|
Drancy stood among the horror-struck onlookers staring at Reverend Bor’s Body. Everyone in town liked the reverend; he had been friend to all despite one’s social status or circumstances. She had seen things like this before, but never quite as gruesome. Tying the sides of her brown hair back so the winter wind would quit whipping it in her face, she pulled out her investigative journal and a charcoal stick.
“Pardon me, Ma’am?” She asked a woman sobbing next to her. “You’re Cherrie Le’Blanc, yes?”
The petite, well-dressed woman turned toward her blotting at her eyes with a lacy edged kerchief. “That’s right.” She responded with a slight upper class tone.
Drancy ignored the superiority in the woman’s voice and continued with her questioning. “You and your husband own the Vallaki inn?” She pointed across the street to the wooden structure.
“Yes, we do.”
“I see, so did you or any of your guests see or hear anything strange throughout the night? Anything at all could turn out to be helpful. Rule nothing out.” Drancy leaned in eagerly, ready to jot down every bit of information the woman could give her when a gruff voice rang through the street.
“Drancy New! What exactly do you think you’re doing?”
Drancy stiffened immediately recognizing the voice of the Town’s sheriff. “Arriving first on the scene, as usual and gathering as much information as I can.”
The law official walked up to her glancing unemotionally at the dead body of the reverend. “Drancy, you’re a woman, for Pete’s sake. The day a woman is allowed to be in law enforcement is the day I’ll eat my badge.”
Several snickers rose up from the crowd and Drancy snapped her journal closed. “You just wait, I’ll solve this case before you do and then you’ll be FORCED to recognize me as the best person for this job.
He rolled his eyes at her and turned back towards the body. “Go home, Drancy. Let us do our job.”
|