I need to stop helping people solve their mysteries

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No, I wasn't in the mystery machine either... I was in a locked high-rise somewhere in America. Trust me, I didn't want to get into the elevator but I had very little choice in the matter. You can believe that my behind was sitting in the middle of the massive elevator with my eyes closed, hoping that it successfully dispatched us on the floor we were meant to be on. It did, eventually. I won't go into that though... We ended up in a messy three bedroom apartment. None of us knew exactly what mystery we were supposed to be solving. We had no idea if the inhabitants were still alive, or if we'd find bodies stacked up in the closet. All we knew is that we were meant to live in this apartment while we looked for clues as to what happened there. I won't bore you with all the "in-between". The inhabitants were alive, but were living elsewhere for the time being. It was a family made up of a father, daughter and son. The daughter and son ended up dating people that the father did not approve of, and there was a heated argument over it, hence the mess we had walked into. It wasn't much of a mystery once we learned everything, but we also knew that the father wasn't telling us everything. Then I woke up I left out a lot of the details of this dream because some of the themes were disturbing.