The Crime Scene

Here’s our second part of the Goofy Cops series we are working on, still don’t have a working title for this one. But it’ll all come with time.

 

“Has anyone else been inside?” Dave questioned, stepping around a dirty homeless man, laying on the small patch of law outside the house’s chain link fence.

The house was old, in need of a fresh paint job, but the bright flowers lining the sidewalk brightened it up.

The woman shook her head, pointing to her and her pale green partner.

“How about the friend that called it in. Was she inside?”

“No. Umm. Just me.” The wobbling police officer choked out before tipping forward.

“Are you okay, buddy?” Dave asked, as he caught the guy and helped him sit down on the sidewalk.

“Yeah, yes. It’s just this sort of thing don’t really even happen that much around here.” His face gleamed with a light curtain of sweat, the green in his face a shade darker than moments before.

“Just try to relax, okay? Don’t you go fainting on me now.” Dave insisted, leaving him with a pat on the shoulder.

Dave had only briefly had the crime scene described to him. It definitely was horrific if a seasoned officer was getting sick.

“Oh shit…” Was the only word that Dave could mutter. There was blood everywhere, a family completely slaughtered with reckless abandoned. How could something like this happen in what had once been his home? He shook his head, now was not the time to think about it. He had a murder to solve.

“Somebody slashed your throat with a large blade while you were tied up.” Dave muttered to himself, as he glanced at the gaping wound in the man’s neck. His eyes were half closed, turned towards the cages that held three other people.

Three dirty, rusting dog cages held three bodies. Two sets of blood stained children’s feet were sticking out of two cages. Dave circled around the cages, he stared at their feet a little longer with a furrowed brow. The area surrounding the feet was clean of pooled blood, how had they gotten blood on their feet?

The third cage held a young woman propped up against the cage, shot through the side of the head. She looked so delicate and sad as her dead eyes looked at her children’s cages.

Dave followed a trail of blood towards the second bedroom and snapped on a fresh pair of gloves. He gently twisted the doorknob, not wanting to mess up any potential fingerprints. The blood on the wall screamed with hatred and he pulled out his phone.

 

“You will always be my boo.” Usher sang from the tiny speaker of Cory’s phone, causing Cory to bust out into laughter. The ringtone always got him.

“Hehehe. What’s up boo?” He giggled as he answered.

“Are you ever going to change that stupid ringtone?”

“Nope. It’s not broken, don’t fix it. Besides it’s your special ringtone, you can’t have the same one as everyone else.” Cory’s joke received a geunie chuckle out of Dave before Dave took on a more serious tone.

“I know you called off, but I’ve got a scene I need you at.”

“But…” Cory had just popped a tiny piece of A Very Berry Pop Tart into his son’s mouth, he whipped the spit on his jeans.

“Look, you need to be here trust me.” Dave interrupted, the address would be enough to bring him here.

“Okay, I’m on my way but I’ve got Brody. What’s the address?” Cory wipes Brody’s mouth before popping him out of his high chair.

“314 Sycamore.”

“You’re old place on the other end of the redline.” Cory asked shocked, he had never thought that he would ever see that place again.

“Call someone over to watch Brody. I’ll be right there.”

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Their fellow officer Stacey had been more than happy to take care of Brody, he giggled as she bounced him on her knee. By the way woman were drawn to Brody Cory had a feeling like he was going to be a ladies man.

One face stood out to Cory, amidst the police a homeless man named Frank stood dazed as he was being removed from the lawn.

“Morning, Frank.” He greeted the man, he nodded at the police officer. “I’ve got this.”

“Oh, Cory. Thank god you’re here.” Frank paused, glancing over Cory’s shoulder towards Brody with a dopey smile. “Look at him. Getting so big. You shouldn’t have brought him here.”

“I know, I know. Questionable parenting decisions, but I was out of options. His babysitter is coming to get him, she loves the butterball.” Cory spotted Trish’s car pull up, she waved as she got out and made her way towards Brody. Cory waved back with thanks, glad that he could do his job without worrying about his son.

“So, Frank. Do you know what happened here?” Cory wondered, peering around the house to see if Dave had come to find him.

“Ya know, when I went to sleep no one was here. When I woke up to them stomping around no one even noticed me. Just stepped around me like I was nutin’. No one bothered to question the homeless veteran.” He replied, flinging his middle finger towards the other officers.

“I know, I know. You’re still Frank to me, man.” He had known the old man since he was a kid. While the rest of the neighborhood forgot about the war hero when he lost his house and moved to the streets, Cory never did. He always watched out for him, offering him free meals and helping him find places to stay. “But did you see anything last night out of the ordinary?”

“No. No. Yesterday was a rough day, I don’t remember anything but collapsing here. Maybe I remember a dark figure, hell it could have been a dream.” Frank explain, flaring his arms away wildly faking a fall.

“Frank, buddy. You need to take care of yourself, when did you eat last?”

“I dunno. Few days…” Frank rubbed his eyes tiredly, sinking to the ground again.

Cory pulled some water bottles and a pack of cookies out of the ambulance before handing them to Frank. He promised that he’d take him out for lunch when he was done and the old man nodded wistfully, before curling up in the next yard over.

“Cory! Get in here.” Bellowed Dave’s voice from the doorway. “What took you so long?”

 

Our next post will be our winning prompt from our little poll on our Almost Thanksgiving post. If you haven’t voted yet head over here to vote.

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