Wednesday, May 9, 2007

One Day in a Small-Town Desert, chapter 6, page 1

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PART II: THE SECRET CHAPEL

Chapter 6: Divine Inspiration



Lawperson Séara Nulıpésha of the Pívo County Constabulary looked at her wristwatch. Her shift was supposed to end in fifteen minutes, at midnight, but that schedule was out the window. A Colonial Enforcer had been murdered.

Séara had been the first on the scene and was still the only police officer around. She’d reported the location, cordoned off the area with yellow plastic tape and orange pylons from her cruiser’s trunk, and searched the immediate area. But her main purpose now was just waiting for the detective to show up.

He’d been woken up a half hour ago when Séara found the body. He didn’t live that far away; he should be there by now.

The murderer was on the loose, last seen out by the Kılímos’ house. Séara should be over there, hunting him down in the desert. She’d seen the Kılímos just that morning, at the Temple of Névazhíno. Mrs. Kılímí had been as exuberant as always; Mr. Kılímo had been his wonderful, gruff self. If this you-know-what murderer had hurt the old couple in any way, Séara would certainly be shooting at him without much provocation.

If she got the chance to hunt him, that was.

A cool breeze danced across her face and Séara imagined herself riding a horse down a dusty trail, following hasty footprints of a fugitive criminal. But no, here she stood on a quiet city street with nobody but a dead Enforcer for company.

Two more years. In two years, she’d have the seniority needed to apply for the equestrian squad. She’d survived her first year on the force, and they say if you don’t quit in the first year, you probably won’t quit anytime soon.

Séara stared up at the stars, barely visible thanks to the nearby street lamp and her cruiser’s flashing red and green lights. Well, if I don’t get on the equestrian squad in two years, I will quit. I can always go be a schoolteacher like Mom wants.

Her mother was always complaining that policework was too dangerous, but Séara had never even drawn her gun yet, in the line of duty. Plenty of time on the shooting range, which was fun and all, but she’d never been forced to test herself in a real-life situation. Maybe, just maybe, if Detective Sétıpímo arrived anytime soon, Séara would be able to join the hunt for the murderer and test her marksmanship in the open field.

Séara looked over the crime scene once again. A yellow racer auto had its door ajar, the window behind it smashed in. The murderer must have been trying to steal it when the Enforcer showed up. Why would anyone kill a policeman over a stolen auto? It just doesn’t make any sense. Maybe she was reading the scene wrong. Maybe there was something else going on. Her opinion didn’t matter anyhow. That’s what Detective Sétıpímo was for.

The sound of an approaching siren forced Séara to look up. It wasn’t a police siren, however, but an ambulance. Tuhanı didn’t have a hospital, so that meant the ambulance had to come from all the way up in Sémı’aréíso. And they still beat the detective there.

The driver turned off the siren as the ambulance pulled to a stop, but left his red strobe on. Mixed with her cruiser’s lights, the street resembled one of the nightclubs in Éíkızo that Séara hoped to be at tomorrow night.

The driver and another medic hopped out of the ambulance, running up to Séara.

“We need to check the victim,” stated the driver, his eyes already on the dead Enforcer.

“Go ahead,” replied Séara with a hand to the corpse. “He was shot in the face.”

The medics ducked under the yellow tape and scurried to the body.

Séara didn’t know why the medics bothered to stop here. Did they not believe her original report when she said the man was dead? She’d heard on the police radio that the murderer had run over a foreign civilian with the stolen cruiser. Surely these medics needed to go save him.

The medics straightened up. “He’s dead,” one of them sighed.

Séara bit her lower lip.

As they ducked under the tape again, one of the medics asked, “You’ll stay here, right?”

Séara nodded. “I’ll be right here. Don’t you worry.”
“Don’t let anything happen to his body,” the driver commanded over his shoulder as he hurried to the ambulance.

Before Séara responded, their doors slammed and the ambulance accelerated eastward down the street, siren blaring. And Lawperson Séara Nulıpésha was once again alone with the dead man.

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