Divination and Rot by Alex P. Berg

Author:Alex P. Berg [Berg, Alex P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Batdog Press

Chapter Twenty-Five

The sun had dipped below the horizon, but a purplish haze lashed with streaks of fading pink still hung in the sky. Far in the distance, the moon glowed a pale yellow, the same color as the streetlights overhead. Cassman’s home sat in the middle of my field of view, an old single story flat with a mottled brick exterior and overgrown bushes in front. Dean, Moss, Justice, and a patrol officer by the name of Hutchison huddled in front of a detached garage one house over, their cars parked a block away. They waited as their clocks ticked toward seven thirty, at which point they would move in, as would the team in position around the back of the home. Meanwhile, I sat in an unmarked car five houses down, watching the whole thing with bated breath as Officer Hutchison’s partner, Loudon, watched over me.

I’d pleaded with Dean to let me come—heck, some might say I’d begged—but he wasn’t swayed by my emotional appeal. He made it clear I wasn’t supposed to be at work at all. It was only because he and the captain went out on a limb for me that I wasn’t stuck at home, missing everything entirely, and even if he wasn’t concerned with breaking protocol, he wouldn’t let me join out of concern for my wellbeing. Though he didn’t come out and state it explicitly, I think he feared the apprehension of Cassman could turn violent, and he didn’t want me in any position where I could hurt myself or others. I suppose I should’ve been happy Dean had acquiesced to me waiting in a car under supervision while the others moved in, but it was hard to feel as if I wasn’t being chastised, even if I understood his point of view.

I stared intently at Dean’s squad, only looking away to glance at my watch. We’d all synchronized our timepieces before leaving the station, so when my minute hand pointed straight down, Dean, Moss, Justice, and Officer Hutchison moved in. They moved quickly but deliberately, their pistols drawn and held at their sides. They hopped the low chainlink fence by the sidewalk and surged up the steps to the front door. No one knocked, nor did they announce themselves, as the judge had granted Dean’s request for a no-knock warrant. Justice merely kicked the door open with a powerful blast of his foot and they all poured inside. Beams of lights shot out the windows as the detectives and patrol officers switched on their flashlights. After a couple moments of silence, I heard muffled yelling, perhaps even a crash, but I was too far away to be certain. No shots were fired, of that I was sure.

I sat in the car, literally on the edge of my seat, as I waited for someone to emerge from the home. The flashlight beams died as the home’s lights came on, and shortly after, Moss emerged. She had her pistol holstered, and she walked confidently onto the sidewalk toward our squad car.

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