The Interstellar Police Force, Book One: The Historic Mission by Raymond Klein (ebook reader 7 inch txt) 📕

lines and radio transmissions ever since he intercepted the robbery call from the auto parts store. When the call came in earlier that morning about a body found in the playground, they decided to check it out. Jennifer was still sleeping, so Jeff left her a hastily written note and the two got on the road.

Jeff adjusted the binoculars and zoomed in incredibly close, he could see between the tarps. “The brutality fits Prodor,” he said, handing the glasses to Genghis, who quickly looked around. The people who were gathered were concentrating on the police activities, so Genghis took the binoculars between his paws and viewed the scene.

“Yeah, it’s brutal alright,” Genghis said. “Could very well be Prodor. It seems to be something he . . .would . . . do.” He paused for a moment. “Son of a bitch!” He brought the glasses down and surveyed the scene in the distance, then raised them to his eyes again. “Jeff!” He then handed the glasses back to him. “Jeff, the victim? Look at her. Look at her face.”

Jeff did. “Oh, no, Genghis. No. It’s Trisha!”

“We’ll probably have an ID on her by tomorrow, maybe the next,” Frank was saying, as Dawson and he were walking back to their cars after fending off media questions with a couple of 'no comments.' “If she’s in the system, maybe sooner.” Frank stopped and said, “Well, will you look at that?”

“What?” DeLaRue asked, pulling another cigarette out. “Look at what?”

He pointed up the road. “That white T-Bird. My best friend's dad used to buy and restore old cars and sell 'em. He had one of those for a while when we were in high school. He let us drive it to homecoming.”

“Nice condition,” Dawson said, shading his eyes from the morning sun that was trying to break through the cloud cover. “Guy must have put a lot of work into it.”

“Yeah really, I couldn’t have. I don’t have the patience for something like that. I’d just buy one already fixed up. That is, if I had the money.”

“What is that,” DeLaRue asked, “a ‘58?”

“No, ‘59 for sure,” Frank responded. He, too, was shading his eyes, “What’s he got there? A camera?”

“Nah, I think it’s a pair of binoculars,” Dawson said. “Some people just can’t get enough of this sick shit.” He lit the cigarette. “You want to get some breakfast Frank?” he asked as he shook out his match.

“Yeah, let's,” Frank said, realizing how hungry he really was. They both continued to walk to their respective cars. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a long day.”

Chapter Fifty-Six

Jeff and Genghis were driving back to the apartment after surveying the crime scene and contemplating when would be a good time to tell Jennifer. “Let's wait until tonight,” Jeff said. “She’s really excited about looking for a job today, and I don’t want to do anything that will discourage her.”

They stopped at Dave’s and got coffee, along with a cup for Jennifer. Monica was happy to see them, and talked with them for sometime. As Jeff and Genghis turned to leave, Monica stopped them with a big silvery grin and handed Jeff a bag of complementary doughnuts.

The bales of hay and colorful pumpkins were now replaced with decorative strings of lights outlining the buildings of Old Town, with Christmas trees and animated Santa Clauses displayed in store fronts. The sun that tried its best to shine through the cloud cover earlier that morning failed, and the day grew colder. Jeff and Genghis drove back to the apartment with the top of the Thunderbird up and the car’s heater on.

They entered the apartment through the backstairs, where they were met by a beaming Jennifer. She was ready for her job prospects; her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was dressed in a charcoal gray pinstriped pantsuit.

“Whoa,” Genghis said, stopping in his tracks. “Looking great, Twink! I’d hire you.”

“Aw, you're just saying that.”

“No, Twinkie,” Jeff said. “You look smashing!”

“Thank you. I’m so excited! Jeff, if you could drop me off on Eighth Street, I’ll just go from store to store filling out applications and see what happens.”

“Yes, I said I would, but first here’s some coffee.” He handed her a cup. “Monica says good luck and if you go by Dave’s she’ll put in a good word for you.”

“She’s a sweetheart,” she said, taking the cup and reaching into the bag for a doughnut. “I really like her.” She took a bite, being careful not to get powdered sugar on her clothes. “I’m thinking that more than half of the shops will be hiring for the Christmas rush, so I’m a shoe-in!”

“You’ll do great, Twinkie,” Genghis told her. “And when you get back, could you explain this Christmas thing to us again? The lights in town are really pretty.”

“I’ll do even better. How about if I rent some DVD’s for tonight, and we’ll watch a bunch of Christmas movies? That should help explain it all for you.”

Jeff and Genghis shared a look with each other, and Genghis said, “That sounds like a plan, Stan!”

Jennifer donned a knee-length black winter coat, grabbed her purse, and the three of them climbed into the Thunderbird and drove to Eighth Street.

Jeff and Genghis dropped Jennifer in front of Le Pot Au Feu on Eighth Street, her first stop. She said that she would call in a couple of hours when she was finished and would buy dinner to celebrate. They wished her good luck and drove on.

Jeff and Genghis spent a couple of hours going to the different crime scenes where the possible Moffit victims were found. Genghis had all the locations from the Westberry Police Department’s hard drives, and started where Trisha was found. The playground was cleaned up and open to the public, but it seemed to Jeff and Genghis that the playground hadn’t been used in years. There was nothing here – not even the D30 detection unit could find anything for