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John Collins (Herb)
John was in his yard, tending to his flowers, the way he did every day. Since the hex, he'd really taken to gardening as a way to keep his demons at bay. Mrs Davis had been kind enough to lend her expertise and had even gotten him a gardening book, so when he wasn't working, he was in his yard tending to his plants and starting new projects. He was currently taking care of his newly grown (and quite fluffy, if he does say so himself) azaleas. It was raining but he didn't mind it – bad weather meant empty streets and no distractions.
Suddenly he heard Agnes emerging from her home across the street and making her way towards him. "Another beautiful day," she greeted and stopped by the fence. She was wearing a dark blue flannel shirt with a matching jacket and a pair of gray pants with a large stain on the crotch. Her hair was a mess, part of it tied in a ponytail. She was wearing one shoe, laces untied, and the other foot was only clad in a sock which was now wet and covered in dirt. She was holding two rolls of toilet paper, one in each hand.
"Hey, neighbor," he greeted, a little taken aback by her appearance. She was usually pretty well put together, even if she was an odd person. "Surprised to see you out here. Are you—"
She handed him a roll of toilet paper and cut him off. "There I was, sitting on my duff, playing Candy Crush, happy as a clam, enjoying the fruits of my undeserved disciplinary action—"
His neighbor didn't always make sense during her ramblings but this seemed... worse. Worrying.
"Hey Agnes, is... are you alright?"
"Oh, now a convicted felon. I can't be right and wrong at the same time."
"Uh, actually, I think you can."
"When the chief calls and tells me, 'Hibernation's over. Got a case only you can solve.' Direct quote," she shrugged and smiled. "So?"
He sighed. "Come on in, Agnes." He opened the gate and led her into the house. He and the rest of the neighborhood did what they could for Agnes – buying her groceries, checking up on her regularly – and while spending time with Agnes wasn't among his plans today, he couldn't leave her out in the cold with one shoe on.
He took the now wet toilet roll and threw it in the trash. "Can I get you anything? A coffee?"
Agnes mumbled while walking around the house, dragging the dirt from outside onto his clean floors. He decided to make her a cup in hopes of it waking her up a little.
Agnes stormed into the kitchen with a library receipt in hand. "What's this? From a library book?"
"Uh, yeah. Westview branch."
She hummed and looked it over for a moment before storming away again and talking to herself.
Herb finished both of their coffees and went to look for Agnes when she yelled from his bedroom.
"She is dead, though, isn't she, Herb?"
"Oh, she's really, most sincerely dead," he laughed as she emerged. He and Agnes had bonded over musicals at one point, especially The Wizard of Oz.
"You never know," she said and winked.
John tried to hand her a coffee but Agatha bolted off again, this time going back outside. He sighed loudly, rolled his eyes, and threw on shoes and a rain coat before following her. He left the cooling cups of coffee on a table in the hallway.
He found her wandering around in his backyard. She stopped dead in her tracks in front of a rose bush and stared at it in silence with a sad look on her face, and she clutched her chest, seeming anxious. "Get samples from both," she said and walked away.
John stood still for a moment. Should he call someone? A doctor? No, she's probably fine, right? Maybe she watched a true crime documentary and got a little carried away in the fantasy she always seemed to be living in.
Agnes walked slowly around his garden, eying every tree, bush, and flower with scrutiny. She still just had the one shoe on, and her other foot was now so covered in mud you couldn't see the sock anymore.
She stopped in front of a puddle that had formed during the rain. She bent down and picked up a snail, staring at it intently. She was still clutching the toilet paper roll in her other hand.
"Find something interesting?" John asked carefully.
Agnes jumped. "Nah," she said and put the snail in her jacket pocket as she stood up.
"Uh. I was going to do some gardening, if you'd like to join me?" he asked. Maybe he could distract her from pocketing anymore bugs.
"Let's go."
John started talking as he walked towards the front of the house. "My azaleas are growing beautifully. I'm really happy with the way they—Agnes?"
Agnes had stopped at a garden gnome. She was bent down and stared at it with a solemn look on her face. "Who are you?" she whispered. "What happened to you?"
What in the world? "Uh, you okay, Agnes?"
"How do you mean?"
"You don't seem like yourself."
"Oh yeah?" she wiped a tear from her face. "And who is that, exactly?" She stood up and spit in his direction. "I'll try to be more cheerful for you next time, Herb. But right now, this unidentified woman lying dead in a creek has just got me down in the dumps." She angrily threw the soggy toilet paper roll on the ground. "Let me know when the dental records come in."
She stormed off towards her house and slammed the door.
Sarah Proctor (Dottie Jones)
Sarah was in line at the supermarket. It was a saturday morning and the line was unbelievably long because it was a holiday, and a lot of people seemed to also have put up grocery shopping for dinner until the last minute. Fucking hell.
She was shaking her leg and biting her nail, feeling her patience thin and her anxiety rise, when she heard shuffling from behind her. "Oh, hey! Official police business."
Sarah turned to see Agnes coming towards her, looking... a lot more disheveled than she usually did. She had two different types of shoes on. She pushed people out of the way, "excuse me!" she said, way too loudly.
"Do you always cut in line at the supermarket like this, Agnes?"
"Only suckers wait their turn." she was obnoxiously chewing gum with her mouth open. Gross.
Sarah looked behind her. An old man was taking his sweet time at the check-out counter, so she might as well entertain whatever Agnes was up to today. "How can I help you?"
Agnes pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. "Found this on a victim."
"Ooh, a victim?" Agnes handed her the piece of paper. It was empty. "Is she dead?"
"Now, why do you assume it's a woman?"
"I don't know. Sounds more titillating." Sarah had become obsessed with true crime lately. Podcasts, documentaries - she'd consume everything she'd come by.
Agnes grunted. "So, can you help me?"
"I don't think so, Agnes. Sorry." She handed back the paper.
"Well, thanks a bunch for your help, Dottie. You've been an absolute angel," she smiled. "Incidentally, WHERE WERE YOU LAST NIGHT BETWEEN THE HOURS OF ONE AND FOUR AM?" she shouted at the people behind them.
"Jesus, Agnes!" Sarah whispered and grabbed her arm. "Fine. I guess I can.. play along." She took back the piece of paper.
"Oh, can you?" Agnes could be such a bitch.
The line wasn't moving. Sarah bit her lip in frustration and took a deep breath. "Okay, so a woman was found dead with this note on her. What are your theories?"
"Yeah, I'm thinking erotic thriller?"
Sarah scrunched her eyebrows. "Huh. You know, maybe the library could help you. Maybe it's a stolen book," she suggested.
Agnes grunted in agreement.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get on with my day," Sarah said and handed back the piece of paper. The line was finally moving and she wanted to get home as soon as she could.
Agnes eyed her closely. "Yeah, I'll excuse you."
Agnes walked away, still chewing gum with her mouth open. Her neighbor was always strange and seemed a little lost, but this complete 180 from nosy neighbor to, what, pretend detective? That was odd.
Sarah shrugged. Whatever. She had other things to think about.
Real name n/a (Dennis Webber)
The day at the library was slow as usual. He arranged the books, then double checked his work. He took his 20 minute coffee break. He helped a couple of kids find course books. The day was good and uneventful, until Agnes showed up.
She burst through the doors looking like she had gone straight from bed to the library. Hair disheveled, clothes stained. She stopped by some shelves and he followed her. She turned stared at him for an uncomfortably long time.
"Uh... hi Agnes. Can I help you with something?" he smiled cautiously.
She got an intensely frightened look on her face. "Was... everything destroyed?"
He briefly wondered if she was having a psychotic episode. He'd always thought of Agnes as a mentally ill person because she always seemed just a bit off the realm of reality. "Are you alright? Can I call someone for you?"
She didn't answer. Just turned and walked out the door.
Harold Proctor (Phil Jones)
Home alone, Harold was sitting on the couch, watching TV while Sarah was out grocery shopping. Their daughter was at soccer practice so he had the house for himself for a few hours, a rare occurence. He was in a greasy t-shirt and boxers, half watching a WW2 documentary, when someone came in through the door. "Honey?" he called.
No answer.
He muted the TV and called louder, "Sarah? Is that you?"
All he heard were footsteps going from the hallway to the kitchen. He sighed and got up to check.
He found Agnes standing in his kitchen, eating a day old donut that had been left on the counter. "Uh. Hey, Agnes."
She turned to look at him for a second before walking off down the corridor. "Glad to be back chief. And no, I do not accept your apology."
He chuckled nervously. "Yeah, so Anges—"
"Did you hear what happened at the library?"
"Uh, no, I—"
"Somebody torched one of the stacks.
Oh no, really? He always thought of this little town as a safe place, free from these kinds of vandalism. "Oh, no—"
"Like, took a flame thrower to it."
Okay, he was going to have to check that out later. Right now though, Agnes was walking into the bathroom and sitting down on the toilet, thankfully with the lid on and her pants up. He really wanted to get her out before Sarah got back.
"Okay, so listen, Agnes—"
"You got a spot on your shirt."
He looked down on his greasy t-shirt. "Oh."
"And your tie."
He wasn't wearing a tie? "Uh, okay, Agnes—"
"You making breakfast smoothies again, chief? You know you're supposed to put the lid on before you blend it."
"Yes, I know. Listen, Agnes—"
"You're about to tell me something I'm not gonna like."
He wasn't sure what to say to get her out. She seemed set on being here and, honestly, pretty confused as to what was happening around her. Did she think she was somewhere else?
Agnes stood up and walked over to the sink, cupping her hand and filling it with water. She drank a sip before spilling the rest on the floor and sitting back down on the toilet.
Uh. "Okay, Agnes. I'm not sure what's going on with you but, uh, you seem a little confused there. Do you want me to walk you home?"
"Get to the part I'm not gonna like."
He suddenly realized he was still in boxers. "You need to go home, Agnes."
She looked at him for a moment before averting her gaze to his left side, looking shocked. He looked around to see what she was looking at but found nothing.
Agnes straightened her back and fixed her shirt. "Fancy dirt always attracts the attention of the feds."
He took a moment to think. Agnes was clearly in a reality of her own, not seeing or listening to him or anything else that was happening. He sighed and decided to give up.
"Okay, you can stay here. I'll, uh, be back to check on you in a—"
She looked at him again. "Eat my ass, chief."
He said nothing and walked away, up to his bedroom to change into proper clothing. Agnes was rude - incredibly rude - today, but harmless, he thought. Probably.
He could hear her talking to herself while upstairs. Was she on something? Agnes didn't seem like the type to do drugs, but apparently Westview had become a place of vandalism now so maybe drugs circulated too?
He met Agnes at the bottom of the stairs. "I don't want you here," she said to no one, it seemed. She went back to the toilet to sit down, now with her head in her hands.
He left her there while he cleaned up the place. Sarah would be making dinner when she came home and he'd made a mess around him in the short time he'd been home alone.
Abilash Tandom (Norm)
"Hey, dude, could I come over and shower real quick? My water isn't running and I have a date tonight."
Abilash had called Harold in a panic. He wasn't usually that friendly with his neighbors but he had a good enough relationship to Harold to ask for a favor, he thought.
"Uh, yes, I uh, I guess."
"Thanks dude, I'll be there in five!"
He collected a plastic bag for his dirty clothes and a fresh pair of socks and underwear as well as his new, expensive suit. He was going to look good for the date he'd set up tonight.
Harold opened the door for him when he got there. "Hey, thanks again. Where's the bathroom?"
"Just down the hall," he pointed. "But, hey, just—"
"Thanks, dude! I'll be done and out of your hair in a few," Abilash said and slapped his back.
He opened the door to the bathroom to find Agnes sitting fully clothed on the toilet. Aw fuck, why?
She pulled out a snail from her jacket pocket. "What is this?"
"Ew, where'd you get that?!"
"Mind your beeswax Norm. Where's it from, how old is it?"
What the fuck? "Look, Agnes, I don't know, I'm just here to shower.
She looked at him, perplexed. "What's a cowrie?"
"Uh, a sea snail, I think? Agnes, could you please get out, I need to use the shower," he pleaded.
"What, no working professional goddess?"
She stared at the snail. "How much you offering, Norm?" she asked.
"For you to get out of here so I can shower? Two hundred."
"Great, now I know where to start the bidding on eBay." She put the snail back in her pocket and walked out.
"Good to see you too, Agnes!" he called out after her.
Harold, again.
Agnes had gotten out of the bathroom when Norm arrived and had since settled in Harold's home office. Sarah had come home a while back and asked him to get rid of her, so he went upstairs.
Agnes was sitting at the desk, writing in his notebook. "Go home, Agnes," he said from the doorway.
She jumped at his voice but didn't move. "I am home, chief." She turned her focus back to his notebook.
He went up to the desk and turned off the light she'd put on. He caught a glimpse of what she'd written down - the whole page was filled with hearts and the name "Rio" in them. "Go home," he said and went downstairs.
"Is she leaving?" Sarah asked.
"I don't know, honey. I hope so." He felt defeated and was beginning to accept that Agnes was going to become a permanent residence in their home.
"She can't stay here, Harold. Get her out, please, before I finish dinner."
He took a deep breath and turned, only to find Agnes sprinting down the stairs and out the door.
---
The neighborhood had a textchain since two years back to chat about Agnes, since she'd never quite seemed to grasp her own needs as a living human being and needed help.
Abilash: Hey, not to alarm anyone, but Agnes was WEIRD today. Like, a lot weirder than normal.
Sarah: Yeah, we just got her out of our house!!! She was here for a couple of hours, muttering to herself and doing real weird shit!!
[Librarian]: She was at the library for a moment. She did not seem well. Should we call a professional?
Harold: Hey, how's the library? I heard there was a fire !!!11
John: I think she watched a true crime documentary or something, like maybe she got the true crime bug?