Chapter 9

Delbert Dixon hated being on the bottom of the crime scene investigator totem pole. For the last few months, he had been dispatched to crime scenes the other investigators deemed unworthy of their time. He had just finished a 12-hour shift and was on the way to met Margie when his supervisor paged him. Now if you knew Margie, you would understand why Delbert was very irritated at having to drive over sixty miles to a dumpy town when a sweet thing waited for him, probably wearing those slinky pink panties that always got a rise out of him.

Delbert’s partner of late was Ron “Owl-Eyes” Hawkins, whose large unblinking orbs earned him his nickname. Hawkins was too old to work the scenes but too young to retire. The pair made quite a team, a young eager beaver and a rusty old codger. For the most part they had an understanding. Del did most of the evidence gathering, while Owl-Eyes made sure he didn’t screw up.

When they arrived on the scene, Owl-Eyes surprised Delbert with a sharp inhalation. “Dude, are you okay?” He asked, fearing that Hawkins was about to kill over dead.

The McHenry house was just at the point of being dilapidated enough not to have a condemned sign posted on it. But give it a few more years, and the town would have a wrecking crew tearing it down. The paint had peeled, leaving long gray streaks up and down the sides of the house, as if an invisible tiger had clawed it to death. The bushes and grass had grown up to hide much of the underbelly. They would have to be mindful of stepping on fire ants and other hidden non-treasures. Last week, Delbert stepped on a hornet’s nest and had to be rushed to the hospital. The police force always looked down on the lab technicians and never considered their jobs as dangerous as their own.

Owl-Eyes’ unflinching stare was glazed, his glassy eyes watering over the lower rims. “I hate this house. Always reminds me of death and decay. Don’t you smell the rot in the air? Its subtle but there, if you break in deep enough.”

“Don’t get morbid on me. Dude let’s get this over with. I’ve got a hottie in pink panties waiting on me.” Del wasn’t in the mood to delve into the working of Owl-Eyes’ psyche. He made a mental note to inquire about it on the drive home. Any conversation kept the drive from being so damn long. But even if he had the time, it wouldn’t have mattered. The sheriff appeared like magic beside them.

Sheriff Eckle was happy to see them. “You boys got here the fastest I’ve ever seen a team arrive. I bet you broke all the speed limits. Good job though. Maybe you can help us figure out what’s going on here, before the town burns a witch or two.”

Regaining his composure, Owl-Eyes laughed. “My young horny partner took some shortcuts, Sheriff. Leave it to a young stud to drive with his pecker.”

With a flaming face, Delbert retorted, “You’re just jealous that my pecker can stand alone and you can’t even remember what that feels like, old man.”

“Don’t confuse me with my pecker, boy. It may not be alert but that doesn’t mean I’m not. You better be thankful that I’m here to keep your dick from dragging through the crime scene. It’s all you have on your mind 99 % of the time.”

From the looks of it, a long debate of appendages was about to begin. Sheriff Eckle cleared his throat, breaking into Delbert’s snappy comeback before it left his lips. “Now boys, I’m not concerned about whose pecker is at attention. My concern is that both of you give this crime scene your complete attention right now.”

Both men laughed. Owl-Eyes smiled. “Lead the way, Sheriff.” Given a little time, Sheriff Eckle just might move out from under the old sheriff’s shadow and into his own light. As the men gathered their equipment, the crowd seemed to grow a shadow that loomed over them. It wasn’t menacing but it did hold potential.