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I, Julia Bradford, write this story to you the readers to tell you of the happenings of my life when my first big mystery was upon me. I was in my early twenties, a widow with a son. At least I thought I was a widow. It seemed that I was all alone in the world after my husband’s death was announced. I was eighteen then and about to have a baby. I had my son three months after the wreck that took my husband away. Later on he came back; it was about three years after the wreck occurred. I was at the wedding of a friend. Several months after my friend’s marriage, I discovered that it had happened again-I was going to have a baby. I had a girl-Cynthia Darlene. Both my children have grown up. Jeff is a surgeon like his late father. Cindy was murdered one evening at her home; she left in the world a baby and her husband. I shall tell you a small portion about my daughter’s death. It was a dark, stormy night; she was sitting on the lounge in the sitting room. She heard a noise and went into the kitchen to investigate, where she was murdered in cold blood. When she saw the thief, she screamed and the baby started crying. A neighbor heard the baby and came over to the house to find the back door open and Cindy lying on the floor dead. She called Cindy’s husband and he came home from work. I will tell you more about her death later on in the future. Right now I shall indulge to tell you about the past-my past as I solved this and many other mysteries in my hometown.
