Post by Jason on Aug 11, 2011 19:03:14 GMT -8
A ring of squad cars form a red and blue flashing wall around a West Seattle bridge onramp. Smoke drifts in and out of aid workers, firefighters, and police officers milling about the scene. Smells of burnt metal and flesh cling to all who pass by the husk of a car placed at the center of this morbid fairy ring.
In the midst of this churning mass of Seattle’s finest, one simply dressed man stares at what’s left of the car. It’s more as if he was looking through the car, instead of at it. *buzz buzz* Slowly he pulls his phone out and checks the text message. It was from the desk Sargent. “I ran the plates like you asked. The car belongs to Mr. and Mrs. DuMond.” Also attached was contact info for the immediate family members. He shakes his head. I remember them from the last fund raiser. . . Good people.
With a sigh he makes a call. “Hello Miss DuMond? This is Detective Trace. I need to speak to you. . .”
In the midst of this churning mass of Seattle’s finest, one simply dressed man stares at what’s left of the car. It’s more as if he was looking through the car, instead of at it. *buzz buzz* Slowly he pulls his phone out and checks the text message. It was from the desk Sargent. “I ran the plates like you asked. The car belongs to Mr. and Mrs. DuMond.” Also attached was contact info for the immediate family members. He shakes his head. I remember them from the last fund raiser. . . Good people.
With a sigh he makes a call. “Hello Miss DuMond? This is Detective Trace. I need to speak to you. . .”