Page 80 of Charmed Forces
“I have no clue but I can head over there and find out.”
“Oh, would you, please?” Alice sniffled, hiding a sob. “I would appreciate that so much. What if Daniel’s there and they arrest him?”
“I’m sure he’s not,” I told her. “I’ll go there now and call you back. How are you holding up?”
“I can’t sleep and every time I switch on my phone, there’re another ten calls from reporters. I had to ask my boss for leave from work and the kids want to know where their dad is and when we can all go home. My parents are helping a lot by keeping them distracted.”
“This will be over soon, I promise,” I said.
“I hope so, because I don’t know what we’ll do if it’s not.”
I drove to Daniel and Alice’s house as fast as I could, parking at the end of the street since I couldn’t get any closer. Three squad cars were convened in front of Daniel and Alice’s house, one blocking the driveway. The reporters had barely been pushed back and now they crowded the sidewalk, jostling for a good view of the officers. Further back were neighbors and passersby, all gawking at the spectacle unfolding before them.
Much as I hated to do it, I hopped out of my car and went to join the wide-eyed throng. I hovered near the back of the small crowd, observing covertly from my position between a tall, baseball-capped man and a teenager who was watching with open-mouthed glee. Several in the crowd held their cellphones up, recording the scene. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to watch this stuff until I remembered a crazy moment when I was videoed and the footage was posted online. I was blown away by the amount of views that short video received. Then I wondered if any of the people recording right now would be happy to have their own personal business broadcast. If these people were Daniel and Alice’s neighbors, would they be able to look them in the eye later? Before I got too judgmental, I slipped further forward to eavesdrop near a pair of women who kept talking when they weren’t casting glances at the house.
“Hey,” I said, leaning in, my eyes wide with faux excitement. “I just got here. What’s going on? It looks pretty intense!”
“We saw the police arrive. They broke through the door with a crowbar!” said the older of the two. “They were knocking and then they shouted they had a warrant. It was just like on TV, wasn’t it, Marcie?”
The blonde woman, Marcie, nodded but couldn’t hide her disappointment. “I thought there was going to be a shoot-out but nothing happened,” she said.
“A warrant? For what?” I asked.
Both shrugged and Marcie said, “No one knows but it’s gotta be bad, right? Maybe there’s a dead body inside?”
Her friend nudged her. “There isn’t a dead body. This house belongs to that cop on the run. The one who killed all those people. Funny place to hide if you ask me,” she said with a knowing look.
“You can never tell who lives next door,” said Marcie, nodding.
“Do you live next door?” I asked.
“Oh, no, we live a few miles away but we had to come down here and see.”
“Oh.”
“If you wait around, I’m sure they’ll bring the guy out in handcuffs. That’ll be exciting.” Marcie rubbed her hands together and grinned expectantly.
I murmured my interested agreement and was about to ask them how long the police had been there when a familiar face caught my eye. Captain Brandt emerged from the house and stood on the porch, speaking to the uniformed officer positioned there. The officer nodded and Captain Brandt returned inside.
“He’s so handsome and rugged,” cooed one of the women. “He must be a detective.”
I edged away from them, feeling sick at the thought of the women having the hots for Captain Brandt, and made my way towards the reporters. Four news crews and a snaggle of newspaper reporters snatched a position just beyond the cordon. Most of them were talking in their small groups, or jabbing fingers at their phone screens. One was doing a piece to the camera, gesticulating at the house beyond her as she spoke in an authoritative voice.
“Any developments?” I asked the guy closest to me. He held a camera with a mic, a pair of headphones slung around his neck.
“You a reporter?” he asked.
“Just a bystander,” I told him. “I saw the commotion and came over to see what’s going on.”
“We’ve been here all day and this is the first time anything newsworthy happened. I thought the family of the dirty cop were holed up inside but I think they left somehow without us knowing.” He shrugged, apparently unconcerned.
“Someone said a warrant was served?” I prompted.
“Yeah. We got good footage of the cops breaking the lock on the door. Thought they might have caught the guy but I guess not... unless he’s cuffed inside. Hopefully, they’ll bring him out soon so we can get the moneyshot and go back to the studio.”
“Hopefully,” I muttered, glad he would be disappointed.
“They’re coming out,” someone called and the cameraman hefted the camera onto his shoulder and moved forwards, his attention zeroing in on the two police officers emerging from the house. Behind them came Captain Brandt, holding a large, black duffel bag. Next was Detective Crump and Detective Hertford. I was surprised to see them, and somewhat relieved to know they hadn’t been following me after all.