Work at Odds by Shane Chastain

Author:Shane Chastain [Chastain, Shane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-12-12T22:00:00+00:00

10

With a bologna sandwich down, and a spare in my inside jacket pocket, we were let out at Edwards’ address. I’d wondered for a moment how Dave had known it, and he confessed that he had read it, upside down, in the file Scott had. Mystery solved.

Sergeant Edwards’ now former residence was a mostly typical townhouse. The items atypical were subtle, but I was there to work, so picked up on them. On the little front porch, I commented on a few, as Dave rang the bell.

“Between the paint, the drapes, and the neighborhood, you think Mrs. Edwards brings home some change herself?”

Dave considered the items a moment. They weren’t outright extravagant, but beyond what would be typical for a cop of Edwards’ tenure. He gave no opinion, instead leaning over toward the window to take a peek inside, and then straightening suddenly. Someone was at the door. It opened and we found we weren’t the first ones to Edwards’ home base.

“What are you doing, Stevens?” I blurted.

Young Officer Stevens stood in the door, looking grim, but more sure of himself than I was used to.

“Came to inform Tammy of the bad news,” he answered mournfully, then he stepped out with us, pulling the door to behind him. “What’s going on?”

Dave spoke fast.

“Mr. Tucker and Mr. Scott found wisdom in our cooperation on this Barbingola matter. We were told we might find you here, possibly, and to say that they think you should take immediate lead on the case, since you have involvement in all its facets already.”

Stevens blinked a few times at us, and said,

“Well, I’m spending the rest of the day here, with Mrs. Edwards.”

“Tammy?” I clarified.

He gave me an eye that he might have wished lit me on fire, but went on to Dave.

“It’s just I was his partner, and all. She needs some support.”

Dave and I were both laying on some token assurances that he was certainly doing a noble thing, when the front door opened again and a woman came out.

“Is everything alright, Billy?” she asked Stevens, placing a hand delicately on the back of his arm.

Stevens, whose friends must know as Billy, reached over and patted her hand, and told her,

“It’s just some men from work.”

“Tammy Edwards?” Dave jumped in. “David DeGrabber. This is my colleague John Trait.”

Dave had his hand out, and the new widow took it from nearly behind Stevens where she still clung. She looked to be about the same age as Dave and myself, which put her ahead by nearly a decade to the young man in front of her. She was pretty too, and, at least to Stevens, affectionate, so it made me wonder why Edwards had sought foreign fields so frequently.

“Were you working with my husband?” she asked.

“We were indeed, Mrs. Edwards,” Dave chimed. “When was the last time you saw him?”

She furrowed her brow and thought a minute, then turned to Stevens for council.

“When did you start that stake out, Billy?”

The young man stammered for a moment, obviously trying to buy time.

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