Detective Pete Cheneigh leaned against the wall in the Police Station talking to his visiting brother, Blair. His jacket was on the coat rack, exposing his gun holster with his semi-automatic
resting in his with no bullets in it. They were in separate pockets on the leather holders waiting to be used one day.
His sleek, black hair tended to get in his eyes consistently, forcing him to shift his head slightly to get them out of the
way. Pete was young, 26 years of age. His birthday was the past April. There were no birthday parties. He was working 24/7, 4/12. His parents and girlfriend had attempted to throw a tiny birthday
bash for him, but he refused, putting the hundreds of dollars they’d spent on him to waste.
He was paranoid and slightly disturbed, but was always joking around with everybody. That didn’t get in the way of his
intelligence though. He had once read “Sherlock Holmes” and feel that quite impressed. The character seemed related to him too much, making him predictable and too easy for Pete to understand.
That’s who he was- a hardcore Sherlock Holmes as dubbed by Sheryl Rearty. Sheryl, the receptionist at the Police Station, always admired his lack of socialism and his personality that seemed like
paranoia to his psychologist. Pete ditched his psychologist over a month ago.
There he stood, sipping his coffee from the mug his younger sister had made for him in the 6th grade. She’s now in 10th grade and lives with her father. He had nearly
spilled his coffee when he heard Jerry and David coming into the station with a sobbing adolescent in their grasp.
“What happened?” Sheryl asked.
“Nothing, that’s it!” Jerry almost yelled. David was behind him, silent but with the same expression on his partner’s
Pete turned to the three, watching the girl cry her eyes out.
“She don’t look alright,” Blair said, watching them leave farther into the station.
“Blair, stop being a dumb-ass. She doesn’t look alright. Where’re you from? The ‘hood’?” They both shared a brief
laugh, holding onto their coffees so they won’t spill. Blair then glanced at his watch.
“Oh man, it’s 9: 56. I gotta go, man.” They shook their hands and Blair went out the door.
“Say hi to Debra for me!” Pete yelled out to Blair as he walked out the door. Blair flipped him off. Debra Jennings was
the woman Blair just couldn’t shut up about that worked at the bar close to his apartment.
Officer Gould came up to Pete and gave him a small bump in the arm.
“Hey man, you might wanna go check out the scene Jerry and David‘ve got there. Pretty weird if you ask me.”
“They’re still together?” Pete asked.
“What, you think they’re some sort of item or couple or something? They were assigned to each other as partners.” Gould’s mustache twitched each time he talked and Pete couldn’t get his eyes off
of it. It was like dancing facial hair.
“I thought they were some sort of couple though. They seemed attached.” he said with a grin on his face, becoming contagious and reaching Gould’s.
“Ha ha. You’re very funny, mister smarty-panties. Now get over there and see what they’re up to.” He gave him another bump in the arm as Pete walked over to the three, putting his coffee cup down
on a random desk.
“What’ve we got here?” Pete said, folding his arms as he came to them. Jerry and David looked up at him.
“We got a call at 8: 27 PM from a man saying that there was an adolescent in the middle of the express way saying that someone killed someone else. She showed us to the place where she claimed it
happened and there was nothing there.”
Pete glanced at the girl, her face soaked with tears and her hair matted with dust and debris. “This her?” he asked pointing his thumb towards her.
“Yes, that’s her. We’re contacting her parents for a fine notification of purposely false emergencies.” The girl’s head bowed down, in a shame that didn’t seem 100 percent real.
Pete glanced at her again, then back to the officers. “Have you tried a lie detector test on her?” Jerry and David looked at him in a sort of disbelief.
“Lie detector test?”
“Yes, a lie detector test. You know, to figure out whether they’re telling the truth or not.”
“Yes, we know what it is, Peter-“
“Don’t call me that.”
“Fine. But we already have the evidence that she couldn’t prove there was a crime of any sort, except for pulling a false alarm on us.”
“I’d do it just incase. She doesn’t look like she’s joking here.”
Jerry gave Pete an annoyed look, then grabbed the girl by the arm and lead her to another room.
“Gentle,” Pete called after him. He turned around and made another annoyed expression on his face as Pete smirked in vain.
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