Past Perfect

“Go home now, Tommy, things will look better in the morning.”

“Sure, you’re right,” the cop said softly as he turned and went into the night.  On the way home, his thoughts turned as sour as the greasy, fast food, undigested in his stomach.  He let go with a rumbling belch, and patted his burning gut.  Somehow he knew that it wouldn’t be better in the morning, or any time.  Maybe this time was the right time to hang it up.  When you get so you can’t let go of the pictures in your mind after the days’ work  and good digestion is a fond memory.  When ya start thinkin’ about other stuff instead of what you’re doin’ you could just buy the farm at any moment, then ya get all mushy and start losin’ your nerve, then it’s time to go before someone decides that time for you.

********

She decided that it would be better to be attacked in the light than in the dark.  After stopping in the kitchen for a weapon, she went about flicking on lights as she went through the rooms.  She rejected the idea of a knife, something sooo bloody awful about knives, a vintage iron skillet was too heavy and cumbersome, but, the rolling pin could cause a headache and was easy to handle.

Every light was on as she started up the stairs, calling to her friend, still a sense of fear and dread shook her.  At the top of the stairs, she paused, she heard something but was unable to identify the sound.  She reached in and switched on the lights in the master bedroom, to find it in total disarray.  Clothes in a careless pile on the floor, inside the closet, the lights were on, the carpet was askew and more clothing dangling half off the hangers.  Later made a soft growling sound deep in his throat, Henie looked down to see his hackles up in fear.  The hairs on her arms raised up as a chill coursed through her, sharp and raw as a winters blast, leaving goose pimples.  It was then she identified the sound, running water.  She ran to the bathroom, flipped on the light and was rooted in her tracks.

********

Deputy Bentley Bowman, assigned to the area after his reinstatement, drove up the narrow road, just lookin’ always sniffing figuratively, orienting himself on his own time.  Pretty swell row of houses above the road, must be some real money around.  Lost in speculation, he failed to notice the dead end sign, and took the last turn into Sylvia Blum’s drive.  At about half circle, he slowed to a near stop, thinking to make a “house call,” but decided to postpone it; finished the circle and headed back to Cardena.  Half way back, he encountered the beat up Volks with Henie at the wheel.  As narrow as the road is at this point, they probably could have shaken hands if it were timed properly.  He put his hand to his hat and nodded, so she was assured that he was a peace officer, but also, she could not see his face.