Chain of evidence

By the time I got back to the house, there was a patrol car waiting. A uniform stepped out of the passenger side and, confirming my ID, asked for my car keys. I prised them apart from my extensive collection and handed them over. As the patrolman drove off in my car, his buddy following him, a third car screeched to a halt outside.

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The driver's door swung open and Stevie stepped out. Slamming the door behind her, she leapt towards me as if she was going to swing a right. In some ways I wish she had. I deserved it, and some.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing, John? Leaving a crime scene like that? And taking your damn car too!

"Yeah, sorry Stevie," I lied. I'm just all over the place at the moment. You know what it’s like when I’m first on scene like that."

"Sure, I know. You can't handle it, maybe? Ever considered applying for a transfer to Community Outreach section?"

We both laughed at that, breaking the tension. I was glad she agreed to come inside for a coffee.

She took her coffee short and black. Mine was in a big mug with too much sugar and cream.

As she perched on the armchair, she followed my gaze to the framed photo above the fireplace.

“Your brother?”

“Yep.”

I wasn’t in the mood to encourage that kind of conversation.

She looked straight at me, and for just a moment too long.

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What next?

Has Stevie thought of something? Has John slipped up? How come the patrolmen got there before him? Find out in part five.

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Thanks for reading

Ray