ACT ONE: The Coldest Case

It was one of the most boring weeks at X Middle School, since well, ever. The lack of cases for the Safety Patrol to handle was becoming unbearable, bordering on suspicious. It might have been good for Vallejo's stress since Principal Folsom wasn't threatening him to have the HQ turned into a pizzeria or bagel shop every other day, but it was absolute agony for Fillmore and he was sure his partner, Ingrid Third, felt the same way as well.

At least it was nearing Halloween, somebody always had to commit some kind of crime during the holiday. Whether it was catching the perp who decided it'd be fun to pass out rotten candy before they did such an act or catching whoever was behind the school TPing, Fillmore and Ingrid were on it.

On this particularly boring day, Fillmore was sitting at the cafeteria, eating his lunch, as usual. As he finished up his soda, he saw Ingrid running up beside him, carrying a small fill in her arms. Finally, another case, something to do around here.

"We finally got another case?" He asked, twirling the empty can in his hand before launching it over his shoulder and into the recycling bin. "I knew this little break for us had to end sooner or later."

"Well, yes, we've been issued another case, but it's not what you think."

"Lemme guess, Jimmy Horton's placing robot tarantulas in the locker rooms again?" Fillmore stretched, preparing to save the day once again. That was his job as a safety patroller, after all.

"That would be much less of a headache to solve than what we got. Just take a look." She slid him the file, sitting down beside him. He opened it up without hesitation, but he could never prepare himself for the bizarreness of the contents inside of the small folder.

Inside, there was a photo of a tiny kid with brown hair and sharp blue eyes who was smiling in a rather adorkable fashion, showing off a missing tooth. That wasn't the most concerning part, however. Beside the photo, there was a sheet detailing the case, with the words BARTHOLOMEW WINSTON, AGE 12, MISSING SINCE 1/12/1992.

"A cold case," Fillmore replied, brows furrowing. "Why would Principal Folsom want to make us solve these? This kid's been missing for almost a decade! This is a new low for her, man."

"It wasn't Mrs. Folsom," Ingrid replied, looking away. "It was Vallejo."

"Wait, wait, wait. Run that by me again?" Why was Vallejo of all people wanting his team to investigate these probably unsolvable cases? Wasn't he supposed to enjoy this period of no rule-breaking?

"I know that you were busy with overseeing football tryouts this morning, but Vallejo's been acting weird. He's been way more nervous than normal and earlier, he pretty was determined to get this case solved. But not in the old 'Do this or so help me' Vallejo way, but in a rather meek and 'Do this… if you want to, that is.' way."

"That is weird," Fillmore muttered, thinking deeply. "Maybe he's finally lost his mind due to the stress of Mrs. Folsom and her threats to turn the HQ into a school bank. That or the cocoa addiction has finally begun to take his toll on him."

"Maybe, but I don't think cocoa would harm him that bad."

" Or, he's putting these cases on us so we have something to do, you know? So Mrs. Folsom doesn't go on him because we've all been sitting around and twiddling our thumbs with nothing to do. Either way, he doesn't actually expect us to solve any of them. Besides, aren't actually missing people out of our jurisdiction?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, Fillmore."

The boy got up, grabbing the case file. "Anyways, we better get back to HQ and see what the fuss is all about. I can tell you one thing right now, though, I'd go missing if my parents named me Bartholomew."

Ingrid smirked. "And I suppose Cornelius is a better first name."

"Listen, Ingrid, Cornelius has spunk, it clearly says 'Don't mess with me, I'm part of the Safety Patrol.'. Bartholomew just sounds like some kind of rich upper-cut name you'd hear on the honor roll." Fillmore opened up the file once more, looking at the photo. "But he doesn't look like honor roll material, either. I'm sure we'll figure it out, let's roll."

Back at the Safety Patrol Headquarters, the two investigators met up with Tehama and Anza, studying some kind of 'evidence.' Ingrid rested on one of the desks, bored and slightly confused. "You find anything yet?"

Tehama scoffed, pushing her microscope to the side. "This is, by all means, a wild goose chase! All the evidence we've managed to gather from their apparent 'last known location' is recent and totally and utterly useless! It's not like we can find witnesses and ask them about it, considering this is from nineteen-ninety-two!"

Fillmore nodded. "I'll just go and ask the chief what exactly it is that we're supposed to be doing."

Anza was the next one to speak up. "You sure you wanna do that? The guy hasn't exactly been in his right mind, so to say."

"I don't know what any of you guys are talking about, okay? Let me just speak to the boss and figure out what's going on. He can't be acting that weird." Fillmore looked around, locating Vallejo standing against the wall, looking rather anxious, and started to walk towards them.

"I should go too," Ingrid pulled herself off the desk, following her partner and friend. "Good luck with the evidence, you guys."

"Thanks," Tehama muttered. "We're going to need it."

Fillmore walked over to the Junior Commissioner, Ingrid close behind him. "Hey, Vallejo, what's up?"

"Oh, uh, If it isn't my uh… best patroller, Hillmore. Oh, and… and… the girl." Vallejo nervously glanced around as if he knew those weren't the right names, but he simply couldn't remember the right ones.

"Third, Ingrid Third,' Ingrid replied, unamused at being called simply 'The Girl'. "And that's Fillmore."

"Third, Fillmore, right. Sorry. So, what brings you… here?"

Fillmore took this as the opportunity to bring up his question regarding the case. "I was just wondering, how are we supposed to solve this case you gave us? I mean, I'm not saying it's a bad case, Chief, it's just, what makes you think we'll be able to solve it? We're just some kids in orange belts who sometimes stop other kids from doing bad things."

"You… uh… don't have to solve it, exactly. I was just thinking, what if we found enough evidence and got the police to reopen my- I mean, the case?"

Fillmore cocked his head. "You do seem pretty worked up about this whole thing, why's that?"

His partner continued the discussion. "Fillmore's right, Vallejo, what is so special about this case? Is it something personal to you?"

"N-No, no, of course not," Vallejo stuttered, trying to catch his words. "It's just, can you imagine being the parents of these people? Not knowing what happened to your child? One day they go to school, then they're just… g-gone? Terrible, absolutely terrible."

"I understand, Vallejo." Fillmore put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "We'll try to find out what happened, but we can't make any promises. They're called cold cases for a reason."

Vallejo looked like he wanted to smile, but looked too nervous to. "T-Thanks."

Back at Tehama's desk, Fillmore let out a deep sigh, his thoughts troubling him. "You guys were right, he is acting weird. But the reason why he's acting weird is a whole other question entirely."

"Maybe he's sick," Anza responded, watching Tehama work with another strain of hair. "You think we should call the nurse over here or something? This could be pretty serious."

"That might not be a bad ide-

Before Ingrid could finish her sentence, O'Farrell suddenly jumped over to the four, ecstatic and as loud as ever. "I got it!'

Tehama jumped up in shock, before glaring at the rather obnoxious photographer. "That's great, O'Farrell, but can this wait? The professionals are trying to work here. Don't you have, oh, I don't know, pictures of gross and disgusting things to take?"

Fillmore, on the other hand, was less bothered by the interruption. "What you got?"

"You know how the case is about a missing student?"

"Uh-huh."

"And how Vallejo is anxious about this certain case being solved, even though it hasn't been solved for almost a decade?"

"We get it, O'Farrell!" Tehama snapped back, clearly still annoyed by his sudden arrival. "Just spit it out, already!"

"Okay, okay! So prepare yourselves for the earth-shattering truth!"

"We're preparing ourselves." Fillmore mused. He, along with the rest of the safety patrol, wasn't preparing for an 'earth-shattering truth' more they were preparing themselves for the mental facepalm that O'Farrell would create, once again raising the bars on how far naivety and borderline stupidity could go.

"What if Vallejo… is Bartholomew?!" O'Farrell finished, waiting for everyone to start gasping and questioning why they didn't think of that possibility sooner. Instead, it was completely silent, everyone trying to comprehend what he had just said.

"I don't get it," Anza spoke up, confused. "How could Vallejo be Bartholomew? He's at least 7 years younger than him! Unless you're speaking on the topic of reincarnation and Bartholomew is actually dead and he reincarnated into Vallejo, who's now been getting memories or something of his past life. Which is why he wants this case solved, so a part of him can move on in peace?"

O'Farrell nodded, agreeing. "Yes, yes! That's much better than what I was trying to say! My theory was that Vallejo… was possessed by a ghost!"

"O'Farrell, that has to be the most ridiculous thing that I have ever heard from-"

Ingrid put her hand in front of Fillmore. "Wait, let him talk. He might be onto something."

O'Farrell's eyes lit up, happy that someone was finally willing to listen to his crackpot theory. "It's so obvious! Why is Vallejo so worked up about getting a cold case solved, one from over half a decade ago, if he's not the missing student's disembodied spirit? Besides, it is almost Halloween, when spiritual energy is at it's strongest!"

Ingrid let out a small 'Hmm', mulling over what O'Farrell said. "It makes sense. It would explain why he doesn't really remember, or in this case, even know our names. What do you think guys?"

Anza nodded, while Tehama looked a little reluctant to agree with a ghost theory, a ghost theory from O'Farrell, no less. Eventually, she gave in, shrugging. "Well, I guess if you guys are going with it, I'll go with it too. Besides, playing whatever ghost game this is, is a much better way to waste my time than just picking up useless samples in a hopeless attempt to solve an unsolvable case."

"You guys have got to be kidding me." Everyone turned to look at Fillmore. "Everyone knows ghosts don't exist. Besides, what if Vallejo really is sick and we're wasting valuable time we could use to help him because we're doing this ?"

"To be fair, I don't think Vallejo is sick," Ingrid began. "He might be acting weird, but he doesn't look sick. Also, everyone knows ghosts exist, Fillmore, stop kidding yourself."

Fillmore let out a sharp groan, before walking towards the door. "You know what? I'm going for a walk to clear my head out. When I return, everyone better snap out of their ghost theory weirdness and be prepared to actually get down to business."

As he turned the knob, he heard O'Farrell mutter "Who died and made Fillmore Junior Commissioner? Oh, you know, besides the ghost that possessed Vallejo?!"

He quickly rolled his eyes and opened the door, walking out into the hallway. As he shuffled down the corridor aimlessly, he had a thought.

Today was going to be a long day.