One Day in a Small-Town Desert, chapter 7, page 3

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Lawperson Séara Nulıpésha leaned against her cruiser. Not a single automobile had passed since the ambulance left. She could see why the constabulary didn’t have a regular patrol after midnight in the Tuhanı precinct. This town is dead.

She cringed at her poor choice of words, consciously not looking at the murdered Enforcer.

Séara began pacing back and forth alongside her cruiser, her hands clasped behind her back. Detective Sétıpímo Marıdaré should have been there long ago.

The radio on her belt burped. “This is Lawman Laparıpasamé. I am en route to address 5430 East Crater Road. Out.”

Wonderful. Séara huffed a short breath. She outranked Tépíto Laparıpasamé by most of a year. He should be the one guarding this crime scene, while she should be joining the hunt for the killer. Surely dispatch could have sent Tépíto over to replace her, but that just wasn’t how the constable’s office thought. No, around here, whatever you get by chance is with you forever.

Séara glanced at her wristwatch. It was already past midnight.

She pointed her face to the dark sky and yelled, “Where are you, Sétıpímo?”

Nobody and nothing responded.

She brought her gaze earthward and found it caught by the yellow racer automobile and its broken window. Séara’d had dispatch call the fix-it shop’s owner to let him know about it, but the dispatcher said he didn’t answer the telephone. Knowing Tamé, it wasn’t because he was asleep. He was probably playing cards with his brothers, drinking beers, and thus just didn’t feel like answering.

Séara sighed, almost a grumble. Tamé was just like any other man: he spent all his time hanging out with his guy friends and ignored the important telephone calls. It had been a long time since she’d met a man who was reliable in that regard--or honest, for that matter.

The distant purr of an engine grabbed Séara’s attention. A couple blocks down the road, a large sedan emerged from a cross street. Even though it didn’t have a siren or flashing lights, Séara recognized it as Detective Marıdaré’s automobile.

Finally.

As the sedan pulled up, Séara walked towards it, her hands tightly together behind her back.

The detective parked his auto alongside the sidewalk, facing the crime scene. Even after he turned off the engine, the auto’s headlights harshly illuminated the dead man and the surrounding pavement.

Sétıpímo stepped out of the sedan with a slight “oof,” pulled a pencil and yellow notebook out of his coat pocket, and walked up to the caution tape. His eyes never left the corpse and the pool of blood around its head.

“Sir?” called Séara from three meters away. “Do you require my assistance? Or shall I join the search for the suspect?”

The old detective looked at Séara for the first time. “Ah. A few questions first.”

Sétıpímo proceeded to quiz Séara about what she did when she found the body, whether she moved it or not, and all sorts of other questions that implied Séara didn’t know the proper protocol. Séara gritted her teeth and answered them succinctly and honestly.

After several agonizing minutes, Detective Marıdaré grunted and said, “That’s all I have for now. Thank you.”

Séara nodded sharply and replied, “Thank you, sir,” as she hopped in her patrol cruiser.

She started the engine, cranked the steering wheel, and gunned the accelerator. As she passed the speed limit, she flipped on the siren.

A smile crept onto her face as she repeatedly tested the release snap on her holster. Finally, she’d get to be a real police officer: protecting the innocent, saving lives, capturing the evildoers--so long as the suspect stayed hidden just awhile longer.

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