Touch of Darkness by C. T. Adams & Cathy Clamp

Author:C. T. Adams & Cathy Clamp [Adams, C. T. & Clamp, Cathy]
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy
Published: 2009-04-23T23:08:35+00:00

17

At 8:30 sharp I walked through the glass door of the station house. This particular branch of the Denver Police Department was in a smaller brick building. The front area had a tiny reception area. A desk sergeant sat at an old metal desk behind a thick plate of bulletproof glass that had a slot cut out of it. It reminded me more of a theater entrance than a police station. I gave my name. The man behind the counter called to make sure I was expected. When he got confirmation he buzzed me through.

I stepped into a short hallway with four doors. The one behind me swung closed, and I heard the locking mechanism click on. The three other doors were all open. The first, to my right, led into the desk sergeant's area. The door to my left led to a large, open room that had been divided into cubicles, each with its own prefabbed work station. When I peeked inside the officer at the nearest desk looked up and asked if he could help me. He looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place him.

"I'm looking for John Brooks. I have an 8:30 appointment."

"Right," he smiled. "BROOKS! Company." He gave a bellow that would do a drill sergeant proud. In response a familiar head appeared over the walls of the second to last cubicle.

"Come on back, Reilly. The coffee's getting cold."

"Thanks." Now I remembered, his name was Adams. He'd been one of the officers to respond to the Shamrock Inn.

"No problem," he said, his smile broadening. "It's good to see you still up and around."

"You too." I gave him a cheery wave and hurried down the aisle to where Brooks was waiting. True to his word, he had coffee ready for me—and not just coffee, the good stuff: high octane, from one of the expensive chains that grind their own beans fresh. Not only that, he'd picked up pistachio muffins for us to munch on. I'd never had a pistachio muffin before. They were surprisingly good. Of course, I was also ravenously hungry. After all, I'd been up for six hours and had had a metaphysical crisis already. I definitely needed food.

John had been in the middle of a telephone conversation when I'd shown up. He'd gestured silently toward the cup and muffins. I didn't need to be told twice.

"No. I'm sorry. I've decided not to renew the listing. Yes, I know you've been doing your best. No. I don't agree. I think the price is just fine. My wife and I have discussed it. We've made our decision. Thank you for your efforts, but no. We've decided to take the house off of the market for the time being."

My ears perked up. The idea hit me so hard that I inhaled sharply, and promptly choked on a half-chewed bite. I was coughing my head off as he set the telephone receiver back in its cradle.

I finally managed to cough up the offending bite, then washed it back down with coffee.

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