“APB on a Black Cierra Navigator. Last seen turning north on Marsh. The officer has lost sight of the vehicle. A source reports the vehicle was being driven by a suspect Angel Hawkins.”
Brad furrows his brows, punching the name into the laptop. “How do they know who was driving the truck?”
Hunter glances at his watch again, but there is still no text back from Ada. He turns his patrol car down Main again, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of her. Where is she? Was she mad at him for working late? He shakes his head dismissing the idea. That would be out of character for her. Hunter struggles to recall a single instance of her showing signs of frustration, or impatience. Yet an unwelcome sense of unease lingers in his gut. He pushes it aside, chiding himself for his paranoia.
“Stop,” Brad exclaimed unintentionally smacking his forehead against the passenger window. Hunter brings the squad car to a halt. “Back up a little. Look there. See it?”
Hunter peers out the window toward the park. On the sidewalk leading into the wooded walking trail are two distinct black streaks marring the pavement-an unmistakable trace left by the tires of a speeding vehicle. “Skid marks,” He murmurs acknowledging Brad’s observation.
He maneuvers the car up on the sidewalk and slowly makes his way into the park forest. The sidewalk winds through the woods, bending one way and then the other. Broken branches hang limp to the side of the sidewalk, evidence of a reckless turn. They drive past a pair of benches and then reach a long stretch that leads to the duck pond. Hunter stops the car and runs a hand through his neatly combed-back black hair. “That’s blood.” He says as he points to the pool on the sidewalk.
The two officers climb out of the car their eyes fixed on the crimson stain. Brad kneels down and inspects the pool of blood. “There’s a substantial amount here. Whoever they hit didn’t make it.”
“Are you certain it isn’t an animal?”
Brad shakes his head, “they wouldn’t have stopped to clear it off the sidewalk if it was an animal. Besides, there is some hair in it. Looks human to me.”
Hunter presses the button on his shoulder walkie, “Car 2307 to dispatch.”
“Go ahead, 2307.”
“We need CSI at Middletown Park. Possible 187 on the walking trail to Dunsebury Pond. The suspect is believed to be the driver of the Cierra Navigator.”
“10-4, C.S.I in route.”
Hunter surveys the surrounding area, his mind racing with possibilities. Where is Ada? Why hasn’t she responded to his messages? A flicker of panic twists in his gut and he shakes it off again. Right now, he needs to stay focused. Investigate.
As they await the arrival of the crime scene investigation unit, Hunter and Brad comb the vicinity for any additional clues. They follow the trail of broken branches and flattened grass on the ground toward the pond. Rustling leaves and a sudden crack of a branch turns their heads in unison. Through the thick foliage, they catch a glimpse of a figure darting away-a fleeting shadow vanishing into the trees.
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Did you see that?” Brad asks his voice tinged with urgency.
Hunter’s heart races and he places his palm on the grip of his pistol. Without hesitation, they sprint into the woods after the elusive figure. The dim early morning light gives the forest a grey glow. They have to squint their eyes as they run to pick out details.
The chase leads them deep into the dense forest, soon all they can hear is their own footsteps and their breathing. Branches whip their faces. The figure seems to blend seamlessly with the surroundings. They only see sparse glimpses. Then the person is gone. They stop and catch their breath looking all around them. Hunter considers calling it in, but he is uncertain which direction they are facing in the thick undergrowth.
“Think it was Angel?” Hunter asks between ragged breaths.
“Whoever it was they are fast. Bet they were coming back to clean up the scene.” Brad puts both hands on his lower back and sticks his chest out clenching his teeth. “I pulled a muscle.”
“We should head back to the car and wait.” Hunter turns around. “Which way is it?”
Brad scans the woods and then gives Hunter a look that says he has no idea. They walk aimlessly through the woods for half an hour until they finally hear the sound of a car's tires on the sidewalk. Correcting their trajectory, they exit the forest to see two men in suits kneeling before the stain on the sidewalk. One of the men is holding a pair of tweezers with several strands of hair. He drops the hair into a bag and his partner stands up noticing them.
“Detective Holt.” The partner holds out a hand.
Brad reaches him first and shakes his hand. “Brad, and this is my partner, Hunter.”
“Decide to go for a run in the forest?” Holt smiles.
“Thought we saw the suspect in the woods. We gave chase.” Hunter answers.
“Did you call it in?”
“We got turned around.”
“That’s too bad.” Holt shakes his head. “Well, we have it from here you two can head back to the station and make your report.”
Back in the car, Brad punches the dash. “We can’t let them take this from us man.”
“We don’t have a choice.” Hunter carefully brings the car around easing past the black sedan parked behind them. “This is a murder investigation now.”
“We almost had them. Now we get to go back and eat our hat. Explain how we almost had him not once but twice. That sucks man.”
“We don’t have to tell them that we saw him in the forest too,” Hunter suggests.
“Yes, we do. You told the detective. You know how much trouble we would get into for leaving it out of the report now?” Brad looks at the computer screen by his knee on the dash and his eyes light up. “We can go get him. I have his address right here.”
“No, I have to get home. I already am late; Ada is probably worried. I can’t get ahold of her, let’s just get the report filed.”
“I’ll file the report. Just let me slap the cuffs on him first.” Brad begs.
“We don’t even know if he is there, he is probably laying low.”
“It’s not far from here, let's just knock. If he is not there you can go, and I will still file the report.”
Hunter looks at his watch again, but still no message. He grinds his teeth. “Fine.”