[ WP ] You 're a detective who has just arrived at the scene of a murder which you instantly recognize as the handiwork of your nemesis -- who went to the chair five years ago .

`` Agent McInnis, FBI.'' I say as a flash my badge. God, that never gets old. I approach the local sheriff and get the information that they have. The body is at the morgue already, so I'll have to go see it later today. Already I am suspicious, as the crime scene looks oddly familiar. There was a pile of campfire ashes, which would n't have been out of place if we were in the woods, but we were in Wichita. There is only one killer who roasts and eats marshmallows over a dead body, but it ca n't be him. He went to the chair years ago. An imitation killer, maybe? No, they'd have to be FBI to know that. His signature was n't released when he was taken in. 
 
 
 `` Agent, you're going to want to see this.'' The sheriff looked mortified as he walked over to me with a picture. 
 
 
 *No way in hell*, 
 I thought to myself. In the picture was the victim. He had no eyes ( they were burned out ) and engraved rather elegantly on his stomach was a perfect cursive signature: Roger McInnis. My brother was behind this murder. I do n't know how he could have possibly done it. Given, I was n't present at the execution, but I personally identified him right before. I suppose I'll find out in time. The important thing right now is to find Roger. I began to walk to the morgue to see the body myself when my phone rang. 
 
 
 `` Hello?'' 
 
 `` Hey aaa-gent. Next one will be in our hometown.'' 
 
 I hopped in my car and sped off. The hunt was on.
