Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
“Anyways, I suspect you’re here because of all the complaints. I’ll let you be, just wanted to give you my two cents.”
“I appreciate that and will look into it,” I reply.
“Thanks.” He nods, backs away from my vehicle, and I continue my way to the house in question. I hit the button on my two-way. “Sergeant Wild, I’m at the residence,” I radio into dispatch, waiting for a response before I step out of my car. The house in question looks like it’s one of those landlord specials, a quick flip to make a buck, and if what the older gentleman was saying is true, then a rental is easy money.
“10-4,” dispatch responds on the other end. I step out of my car and pocket my keys. I resituate my bulletproof vest. The damn thing likes to sit up high when you’re sitting down. While we’re pretty relaxed at the station, not having to wear the standard uniform like most precincts, we’re still cautious. Out of habit, my hand lands on my hip where the police-issued Glock 43 is in its holster, safety on but at the ready. On the other side of my belt is a Taser and handcuffs. My badge hangs on a chain around my neck. I walk up the driveway toward the house for the welfare check. When I got in my car, powered up my laptop, and read through the report, it was pretty vague. An individual called the station, stating they hadn’t heard from their daughter in a couple of days. They live out of town and weren’t able to come down for another two days. The grass is a bit overgrown, there are a couple of trucks that look like they’ve seen better days, and toys are here and there. A playhouse, a slide, and a wood bench swing hanging from the tree with rope.
I walk up the front steps, sweeping my eyes back and forth. There’s no noise coming from inside, but I knock anyways. “Peach Springs police,” I announce. I’m not expecting a response. I knock one last time, repeating who’s at the door, and still, nothing.
“Dispatch, this is Sergeant Wild,” I speak into my two-way again.
“This is dispatch, go ahead.”
“There’s no answer at the residence.” I’ll make time tomorrow to either come during my shift or see if Chief Taylor wants me to stick around later in order to come back when someone will be home. Either that, or he can assign another deputy to take over. I know Taylor enough, though; once you take on a call, he likes you to see it through.
I’m walking back down the driveway when a neighbor is out walking her dog, or more like the dog is walking her. A small canine, what most would call an ankle biter, whose bark is a lot bigger than his bite. Still, I don’t move until her dog is more secure.
“Batman, that’s enough.” I watch as she brings him in, slowly, until she’s got the miniature Yorkie within reach. The young woman bends down and picks up her wannabe voracious beast. “Sorry about that.” She looks over her shoulder. “You won’t see any activity at that house until the sun goes down. Unless it’s the weekend, then it’s party central.”
“I’ll try back then.”
“The mom and little girl are usually out then, too. The weekdays are hit and miss.” Makes me wonder if someone from out of town really did call it in or if it was one of the neighbors instead. Either way, a wealth of knowledge has been given to me in the short minutes I’ve been here, and I’ll be sure to document it.
“Thanks, I appreciate it. Have a good day,” I tell her, sensing we were at the end of her information dump.
“You’re welcome. You too.” She puts Batman back on the ground and then turns in the opposite direction of where she was walking before. Yeah, I’d bet twenty bucks a neighbor called this is in. Smart, if you think about it. Even with asking to be anonymous, people in small towns talk, word gets around, and if you don’t know these people well enough, who knows what they could do or say. I unlock the doors to my car, hitting the automatic start button once I’m close enough, and while I’d usually stay where I am to write my report, I think I’ll do it once I get to the house, where I’ve got a woman waiting for me at home.
Chapter 13
Fletch
Iturn down the long gravel driveway of the farm, seeing Asher and Madelyn up ahead in the golf cart. I could easily be an asshole, hit my lights and sirens to scare the piss out of them. And I would if Madelyn weren’t with my oldest brother. I’d like to get home to Delilah. The last thing I need is him trying to whoop my ass for scaring the shit out of Madelyn. It’s not like I wouldn’t do the exact same thing if Asher did similar to Delilah.