(This is a story. It is not true, so do not write, asking for the police to take me away)
Police Lt. Dan Malmon had truly ticked somebody off. Must have. Else why would his brains be sprayed all over the inside of the limousine? Detective Nicki Taylor straightened up, pressing her hands into the small of her back. “Okay, CSI guys, he’s all yours.”
Nicki stepped back as the Crime Scene crew swarmed all over the shiny white car. The blood and brains had dripped through the open doorway, so one of the crew put a specimen bottle in front of the watery flow that tried to head for the drain. He gave up. Too adulterated for use.
The rain spiked down out of the gun-metal dark sky, slicking Nicki’s hair down on her head. She sighed. Nothing screwed up her day like an unexplained killing. She didn’t want to call it a hit yet, but all the signs…She shook her head. Don’t go there, girl, she said to herself.
Lt. Dan Malmon had a reputation for being a loner, for going out on his own, looking for the slimeballs in the gutter; the ones the law and justice never really got. This time, the slimeballs had won.
The flashing blue and red lights, the screaming sirens of an oncoming ambulance, the gleaming rain in oily puddles: this would be a night to forget.
Until one of the CSI guys jumped backwards out of the limo and yelled “BOMB!”
Everybody dropped everything and ran like hell. Especially Nicki. The limo had been parked in a sleazy industrial district, with empty eyed brick warehouses staring down at the scene. The silence of the running crowd surprised her. Until she realized the bomb had already exploded and her eardrums were screaming in pain. Detective Taylor flew through the air right into the side of a pile of reeking garbage bags, losing her breath. Face first into the smothering plastic. Trying to lever herself up and having no luck. Damn shiny shoes… too damn slick for any purchase. A strong arm reached and grabbed, yanked her up and pulled her further down the street. Her eyes swam with the pain in her head, but she kept running. Her benefactor pulled her into an open doorway, breathing hard.
“Detective, sorry I’m late” came the deep voice in her ear. She smirked.
“That’s okay, Detective Jordan. I’ll let you off the hook this time, seeing as you seemed to have saved my life.”
She felt the light squeeze on her shoulder, and looked back toward what was left of the limo. “Guess Lt. Malmon finally stepped in it, Jon.” Sighing, she pulled herself back together. “Now we have to tell his wife.”
Detective Jordan grunted, and they moved back toward the crime scene. Whoever killed Malmon hadn’t wanted any evidence left of their presence. They’d succeeded beyond their wildest dreams.
Later when the melted remains of the kill bullet had been sent to the lab, and the case file closed through lack of any actual physical evidence of the killer, Nicki kicked her feet up onto her home desk and bit into an apple. Grinned.
She thought the bomb had been a pretty good idea. Turned out she’d been right.
Her burn phone rang.
Oh well, on to the next job.