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The Unsolved Case

It was a cold fall afternoon. The trees were swaying in the breeze as Christy stood at her mother�s grave with tears streaming down her beautiful face. She was just staring blankly at the simple tombstone that marked her mother�s grave. On it were five simple words: Loving mother. Gone too soon. Christy missed her so much. She was so confused. How could her mother, the only person that had ever cared for her, loved her, and stood up for her be gone? She tried not to think about it- not to think at all- but it didn�t help. Hopelessness still filled her up.
Staring at her mother�s grave made her think of the time that they had found her mother�s body. She had been shot in the head. A quick, probably painless, death. Christy had been there, talking to the inspector and his assistant. It was lucky that she had been able to.
�It had to have been a murder.� the inspector had said.
Christy had known that it was a murder all along. She knew her mother too well. She knew that her mother had been miserable, but she put up with it to protect Christy. However, the inspector�s assistant, Cal, was surprised at this simple conclusion.
�How do you know that?� he asked, surprised.
Christy had seen him somewhere, but he looked-different somehow. Older maybe.
�Well, that�s easy. The gun is missing.� said the inspector.
�That�s not enough. A person might have set her up to suicide, and once she had killed herself, he/she ran off with the gun.� Cal argued.
�Hmmmm. That�s an interesting scenario, however-� started the inspector.
�However suicide is not a possible explanation.� Christy interrupted . �If I may point out that there is only one circular mark in the head. The one where the bullet went through. I assume that if it had been suicide, there would have been a ring around the bullet hole mark from close-range powder burns.�
�Amazing! But how would a young girl like you know that?� the inspector asked, curiously.
�Her assumptions are correct.� Cal said flatly.
The memory ended and Christy was pulled back into reality. She sobbed, �I will find out who did this to you, mom. I promise.� Then she just stood there for a while, staring down at her mother�s grave.


�You�re late!� Tom, her father, roared as soon as she stepped in the door. �I�ve been sittin� here for hours with nothin� to eat. Now, go make me dinner! And it better be somethin� good!� He growled.
�Shut up and make it yourself.� Christy snarled.
�What did you just say to me?!� Tom said in a dangerous tone.
Now red in the face, Christy replied angrily, �You heard me.�
�You little brat! You�re just like your mother. A stubborn, disobedient, useless woman who didn�t care for anyone but herself!� Tom stormed, his face a deep purple with rage.
�Don�t,� Christy breathed dangerously, �you dare talk about my mother like that!� A second later she found herself being slammed into the wall. Her final thought before she blacked out was, He hit me. Just like he used to hit mom.


When Christy opened her eyes at first, everything was blurry. Once her vision had cleared, the first thing she noticed was that she was not familiar with this place. It was around noon, and the sunlight lit up the room. She was in a small room. She noticed some paintings that hung on the walls, there was a large, wooden desk near the back of the room, and three chairs. The walls and ceiling were white, and the carpeting was light brown. She stood up, but immediately collapsed back onto the flat, shallow bed.
�Glad to see you�re awake I thought we�d lose you for sure. You were out for quite a while.� came a familiar voice from behind her.
She turned her head to see who it was that had spoken, and discovered why the voice was so familiar. Cal was leaning on the doorframe.
�Yes.� she replied. But where am I? How did I get here? she wondered.
Almost as if he had read her thoughts he said, �You are in my office. I found you and brought you here. Can I get you anything? A drink?� Then, almost as an afterthought, �Are you in pain? I heard you took quite a blow to the head.�
�Thanks for your concern, but I�m fine.� she replied, trying not to let the truth show in her face.
Cal looked at her curiously for a moment, his hand nervously playing with something in his pocket, as if he was trying to make a tough decision. The moment passed as quickly as it had come, and he said, � Well, then I guess my work here is done. I came to make sure you were awake and feeling at home.� he turned to leave.
�I�d rather not.� Christy said.
�Excuse me?� Cal asked, turning his head slightly, looking puzzled.
�Feel at home, I mean.�
�I see.� he replied, pausing. �Well, excuse me, I have work to do.�


A few weeks later, they found the gun that had killed Christy�s mother in one of Tom�s dresser drawers. He was tried in court. Christy went against him. She wanted him to be found guilty. Cal was on her side. She thought of her mom�s smiling face- a mask that was worn all the time. A mask worn to hide the defeat in her mother�s eyes. Only Christy had known it was truly a mask. Her mother�s life had been miserable, just as her own was now that the judges had found Tom innocent. Christy hated the thought of her father being innocent almost as much as she hated him. She felt Cal slip something into her hand. It was a slip of paper. Once she had gotten away from everybody, she unfolded it, and read the short note there.


Meet me at the old abandoned warehouse at
9:00 tonight. I have something to tell you.

Cal


I�ll be there, she thought. A final time at me and my mom�s old hideout.


Christy sat in the darkness, wondering why Cal wasn�t there yet. She didn�t have any idea how long she had been waiting for him to show up in this cold, dark place. Then she heard something.
�Who�s there?� she called.
�It�s just me.� came Cal�s reply.
�Oh. You.� Christy said, relaxing.
All of a sudden, Cal�s tone changed. �I did it.� he said in a cold, hard voice.
�Did what?� Christy asked, confused and alarmed.
�Killed her.�
Suddenly Christy understood.
�But why?� she asked.
�Because,� he replied in a hurt voice, �she humiliated me in front of the entire school. Then she dumped me right before the final prom for jerk.�
Christy knew what was coming next even before it began. I�m coming mom. I can finally see you again. she thought. Then came the muffled bang, and she slumped to the ground. As her lifeless body hit the ground, two things fell from her limp hand, unnoticed. A gun and a small scrap of paper.


The next day, Christy�s body and the guns were found laying on the floor of the warehouse, just where they had been left. One was the same gun that Christy�s mother had been killed with, but this time Cal�s fingerprints were found on it. He was sent to court without a chance of being found innocent. He was found guilty of the murder of Christy Cronbaugh. He was sentenced to ten long years in jail, doing heavy work. Though the police found him guilty of murdering Christy Cronbaugh, only three people knew the truth about who murdered Maria Cronbaugh. One person was the murderer himself, and the other two were dead. As for the police, they never could figure out who was behind her death, and they probably never would. It was labeled an unsolved case.

When news got to Cal about the note, he was furious with himself that he had only fulfilled Christy�s last wish. She had planned to kill herself if he hadn�t. No doubt she had known that she was walking right into a trap. He couldn�t believe how stupid he had been for thinking that she could just go on living without the only person that had ever love her, and actually live with that monster that was her father.


Christy�s note was found laying beside her hand, next to the gun. It read:
Beside Mom. Loving and caring daughter. Died too young.


She got her last wish. She was buried right next to her mother. Her tombstone read: Loving and caring daughter. Died too young. Seven simple words. Words that meant everything to Christy. Her last words. crying