First fanfiction, hope it doesn't suck overly much.
Leroy Brown let the book drop to the floor. The pages of A Psychologist's Guide To A Murderer's Mind fluttered mindlessly before one cover of the book dominated the other and it shut. The sound blended with the quiet closing of a door. Leroy could automatically sense that something was not as it should be. One could owe it to his smarts, the fact that he often picked up on things ordinary people didn't, or just that he knew his father well enough to know how he closed a door. Leroy swung his legs over the side of his bed. The bed had once seemed enormous to him but now, at age sixteen, it was a bit too small for his lanky frame.
Leroy's father never just closed a door. He would slam it, tired from an exhausting day roaming the streets on the lookout for crime, but then would utter a happy,
"I'm home!" Leroy quickly exited his bedroom and made his way to the kitchen where he knew his father would go. His mother stood near the table that held three bowls of soup. It's always soup. Leroy thought somewhat disdainfully. His father was slumped in one of the chairs, looking a mess. He still had his policeman's cap clutched in his hand. His face was pale and he seemed shaken as if he had just seen a ghost. Leroy stood uncertainly in the doorway and nobody spoke for quite some time. After a few minutes, he cleared his throat. His mother turned around and his father jumped, uttering a startled exclamation.
"Oh Leroy," His mother said smiling briefly and not at all convincingly, "The soup will go cold, have a seat." Leroy was smart enough to know that something out of the ordinary had happened and itched to know what but he decided he would let his father calm down before he probed him for information like so many nights before. He sank reluctantly into a chair, picking up the soupspoon as he did so. The metal was unusually cold against his skin and he shivered involuntarily. There was complete and utter silence for a few moments, the clink of their spoons was masked my some unseen and unheard force.
"That's enough!" Leroy snapped, smacking the spoon on the table. "Are you gonna tell us what happened or are you going to just sit there not eating until mom breaks the silence?"
"Leroy-" His mother scolded.
"Just like always?" Leroy finished. His father looked at him for a moment and for the first time Leroy noticed the lines around his father's eyes, the streaks of grey in his hair, the telltale signs of aging. Finally his father looked away and sighed.
"There's been a murder." Leroy's mother gasped and Leroy sat up much straighter in his chair.
"Who?" Leroy asked after the shock had subsided. His father sat back in his chair with a shaky sigh.
"A young man by the name of Wilford Wiggins." He said despondently. The silence that followed was almost immediately broken by a soupspoon clattering to the floor that had fallen from Leroy's hand.