Chapter Forty-Nine
1220 Words
A knock was heard on Chief Edward’s door, causing Hanna to jump.
“Enter,” the Chief said.
“You wanted to see me,” the door-knocker inquired. It was George who looked relieved to have a break from Roger’s warped mind.
“Correct. It was originally only for one request, but, thanks to Miss Grimm, a second request has come up.” George gave Hanna a strange look of confusion.
“Uh, okay,” George agreed. “What does the second one entail? I have my statement written out already.”
“Any “whoo-whoo” stuff mentioned in it, perchance?” the Chief nudged for some answers.
George could only look at Hanna while scratching the back of his neck, a nervous tick of his. Hanna looks back at George playing with her necklace, her nervous tick.
“Ahem,” George cleared his throat. “Um...”
“Take a seat,” Fenton Edwards commanded. But before he could divulge it further, his phone rang. It was on his personal private line. Only a few were privy to this number.
“Hello,” Fenton Edwards mindlessly spoke, picking up the receiver. There were pauses and breaks in between the “uh-huh's” and “hmm’s”. It was a private conversation after all.
“That’s great news, honey,” the Chief stated loudly. “I’ll let everyone in the department know. Thanks for calling, and I’ll get Hanna to send over your things. Bye love.”
George and Hanna tried to hide their embarrassment from hearing the conversation. It didn’t work. They acted like a couple of teenagers, snickering and smiling away. To be honest, if I was on their end, I’d probably act the same. His sign-off was on the cute side.
“Okay, you two didn’t hear that,” Fenton sternly warned them, giving them a stink-eye, then winked. George and Hanna couldn’t contain their laughter anymore, and just let it out.
“Okay, okay, settle down. If you couldn’t tell, that was Tiffeny on the other end,” he went on to explain. George and Hanna did their best to muffle their giggles. “She called to inform me that Sergeant Micah Black has regained consciousness and is slowly being taken off of the ventilator.”
“Yes!” George exclaimed, giving Hanna a high-five and the Chief one as well.
“Okay, on a more serious note, back to the whoo-whoo,” the Chief stated, not missing a beat. Both George and Fenton arched an eyebrow in Hanna’s direction.
“Whoo-whoo?” George asked Hanna, looking for clarification on the matter.
“How else was I supposed to describe it?” she shrugged in her innocence.
“No, you’re right. Whoo-whoo would be the best way,” George mumbled in agreement. “He was definitely “out there”.
Yeah, I was. I don’t care to go back there either, for that matter. No more “whoo-whoo-whooing” for me!
“Care to elaborate?” the Chief asked, settling into his chair. He prepared himself for a doozy of a tale.
Professor Bryant’s office, Wolfdale City University...
“Where’s Hanna?!” Mitch continued to yell at his roommate. Patrick sat back in his chair letting Mitch vent. He watched his friend slowly wear a hole in the carpeted floor with his pacing.
“She’s doing more consulting for the Police Department,” Patrick reluctantly answered.
“Hasn’t she done enough consulting already?” Mitch huffed. “Doesn’t it seem like her consulting hasn't helped the police find your brother’s murderer? She should be here instead.”
Mitch knew exactly which button to push. Patrick quickly stood at his feet and glared at his friend, his nostrils flaring, muscles twitching. His fist clenched and within seconds landed squarely onto Mitch’s nose, sending him flying across the room. Blood trickled down Mitch’s face and onto his lips. His eyes went from a look of surprise to a look of frenzy. Mitch stood up and made a mad dash out of Patrick’s office. Weird.
Chief Edward’s office...
“So, do you still have this package?” the Chief asked George.
“I have it hidden at my home,” he confessed. “Considering the nature of it and all.”
“It should be analyzed, forensically speaking,” Hanna put forth.
“And how would you suggest that gets done?” Fenton asked his niece.
“Aunt Lila?” Hanna suggested.
“Lila Montgomery?” the Chief retorted. George just raised an eyebrow at the suggestion.
“What? She does have expertise in other areas besides botany,” Hanna explained.
“Okay,” the Chief said, letting out a hard sigh. “Make the arrangements. I trust that you and George can handle this item with the most discretion.”
“Uh-ha,” George and Hanna nodded together.
“I just have to find it,” George sheepishly confessed.
“Try washing some clothes,” Hanna suggested to him. She’s still a smart-ass.
“George, would you be able to take Hanna to pick up some things for Tiffeny?” the Chief strongly suggested to his officer, instead of asking him.
“Sure, Chief,” George smartly answered.
Later that night at an undisclosed location...
The waxing gibbous moon cast its glow onto the canopy below. The usual sounds of the night are nowhere to be found, giving off the eeriest creepy ambiance. It was so eerie that it could stand one’s hair on end. To cliché, I know. Work with me here. The shadows of the trees pointed the way to the destination on the uneven dirt path. On this narrow path, overgrown with various flowering plants and fallen trees, the mysterious creature dragged its reluctant prey. Its prey put up a fight, refusing to give this thing the satisfaction of reward.
Onward and forward they both went, following the almost hidden path to a small clearing deep within the depths of the forest. Within this clearing stood a sad, lonely, broken-down house, waiting for the monstrous occupant to bring its newest victim into its bowels. What was originally built to hold love, now holds the gravest fears for all who dare enter. The windows wept for what would transpire inside, yet again.
The next day, Wolfdale City Police Department...
Detective Barton and the unnamed uniformed officers gathered in a small office area to discuss their findings.
“Any luck?” Barton asked the officers.
“Not really,” one of them answered. “Are you sure that it’s not a goose feather?”
“Why? You think this is a wild goose chase we’re on?” Barton retorted, catching the reference.
“I may have found something,” the other officer spoke up.
“Continue,” Barton said, giving him the floor.
“There are two possible costumes that it could have fallen off from. The first belonging to a feather boa accessory, and the second belonging to a fancy hat,” he rambled out.
“But taking into account that there were also boot prints with the feathers, I think I know which specific costume it can be narrowed down to.”
“Okay, spill it,” Detective Barton blurted, quite impressed and intrigued at this finding.
“A Musketeer costume.”
- Writer
