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Park & Monroe Mysteries: Confessions

by Jasmine Gage

    There’s been a murder. . . My favorite four words to be joined together in a sentence. Those words brought a bit of excitement into my life and always kept me on my feet for the last four years. Being a detective in Winter Haven always brought some type of mystery, lore, or death in this quiet little town; it is usual around here. 

    I never went more than a week without solving a new murder case, because there’s always someone wanting to cover up their secrets, or someone wanting the thrill of being chased. Right now, it is 7 in the morning, coffee is brewing, birds are chirping, and I have yet to receive a call.

    Something is off . . . I think to myself, as I sit in my chair at the station. 

    The smell of maple syrup and pinecones fill my nose as I glance at the desk across the office. The brown desk sits there with an empty chair and the nameplate, reading Monroe, is standing ever so nicely. Of course, my partner isn’t here. Too lousy to set an alarm and too much of a nuisance when he’s here. I glance at my phone on the desk and nothing. No ding, no vibrations, not even a single text from Savanna, one of my coworkers and closest friends. 

    I know you might think I’m crazy but by now, the phone would’ve rung, telling me someone has died and that it's my job to figure out who did it. My stomach started to feel uneasy as I glanced outside to see the trucks driving down the street with the words “Piper Industries” plastered on the side. Trucks from that company have been rushing around all week long to help set up for the annual Winter Haven Festival.

    Basically to celebrate another year that Winter Haven is still standing and somehow hasn’t been closed down for all the dead people who fertilize the grounds of this place. This is also the time when something weird happens with no explanation. Odd, the festival isn’t happening until next month, so what’s the rush?

    I shook off this unnerving feeling and turned back to my blank computer screen. My phone rang, filling me with a bit of joy to finally go do a bit of work

    “Park speaking.”

    “Please tell me you have weird feelings about today as well,” a concerned voice said into my ear. Savanna. I sighed and fiddled with the pen on my desk. 

    “Weird doesn’t even cover it; it’s like everything is off. No calls, no dead people, no murders. Like the world decided to be normal for once.” 

    Savanna scoffed and I heard a slapping sound, probably slapping her knee as she does when she finds something funny.

    “Normal doesn’t even exist in Winter Haven. In Winter Haven, you either investigate, die, or kill. There’s no way around it.” She had a point; everyone in this town was either a suspect, victim, victim’s family, or a witness for a price. “Well, I know something is wrong, I got a feeling.”

    “And I got a feeling that my paycheck won’t be as much since I’m not examining corpses. Today is going so slow, I think I might go murder someone myself,” Savanna joked.

    I chuckled. “Well let me know how that goes for you. Gonna head over to the break room.” 

    “Catch ya later!” Savanna called out and hung up the phone.

Just as I got up from my seat, my phone went off and a new message came in from the lieutenant. 

    Lieutenant Davis wrote: 


    Detective Gia Park, college kids found a bloody sweater just 10 minutes ago. A woman, Mila Green, found the clothing with her group of friends as they were entering Winter Woods. She’s waiting in I-Room 2 to give her statement.

    Could be a potential murder or just something gone wrong. You know what to do.


Well, it isn’t murder but it's better than nothing. I headed down the hallway to the room and opened the door. A lady sat in the chair with her blonde hair tied back, a bright blue headband on her head. She sat in the chair but was fidgeting with her fingers, seeming to be a bit nervous. I closed the door behind me and sat down in the metal chair. 

    “Before you say anything, Detective. I did it.”

    I was taken aback by her sudden response. “Did what exactly?” 

    “I murdered Connor O’Malley…”

    Just then, my partner walked in and placed his hand on my shoulder. “Excuse me partner, I need you for a few seconds.” I prayed silently and followed Monroe out of the interrogation room.

    “Monroe, this better be important. I’m in the middle of some—”

    “I don’t know about you,” Monroe cut me off, “but I just got a confession to the murder of Connor O’Malley. The guy is literally asking me to throw him in a cell.” 

    I knew today felt off.

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