"Shit, I could have gone fishing." thought a man as he spend down a rain drenched street.
It was now 7am in the morning and the sun had just started to appear over the horizon. Everything, including the mans' car, was completely drenched and still covered with rain drops from the nights storm. An incredibly loud squeal emitted from the tires of the mans black crown vic undercover police car as it took a sharp corner.
"Move you stupid birds!" he yelled as he swerved to miss a group of quail sitting in the middle of the road.
He ran one of his hands through his short brown hair trying to calm himself down. After all, he knew what was awaiting him. After five more minutes of screeching around corners, he finally pulled into a parking lot, which was pretty full, not packed, with ambulances, fire trucks and lots of law enforcement vehicles. Very strange though, he saw a helicopter with "USSS" printed on the side of it.
"Why is the United States Secret Service at Target?"
He pulled up next to a local cop vehicle and quickly got out of his car. He was wearing blue jeans, and a black fleece vest with a red long sleeved under shirt, totally ready to go fishing. He wasn't a skinny guy, nor was he fat. He had an athletic build to him. A women officer ran right towards him and yelled out,
"Sir! This is a crime scence, no civilians allowed! You must leave!"
"Its ok, im with the Special Investigations Department." said the man as he pulled out his badge and flashed it at the officer.
"Hmmm, Mr. Greg P. Please, right this way."
The woman officer lead the man, Greg, through lines of yellow tape and into the store. Everywhere he looked, he saw different law enforcement types taking pictures, and discussing what they should do next. The two of them walked to the back of the store where the paramedics were just lifting up a stretcher with a body bag on it. The fire fighters we all shaking their heads in disbelief. Everyone around acted like the life was drained from them all. For the old man in the body bag, this was especially true.
"Captain sir!" the lady commanded. "This is Detective Greg P. from S.I.D."
A scruffy looking gentleman turned around, definitely a captain from the uniform he was wearing, and reached his hand out.
"Detective, nice to meet you. We have a homicide here."
"What happened?"
"From the information that my unit has acquired, an elderly security guard was found dead obviously."
"What was the cause of death?"
"Shit if I know."
Greg walked over to the body bag and unzipped it. Inside he saw a crusty blood covered man with a gaping hole in his head. A horrible odor wafted up and made Greg gag.
"Captain, you say you don't know what his cause of death was, yet, there is a hole in his head. What the hell happened?"
The captain took off his hat and threw it to the ground.
"We know he died from that! We just cannot find the weapon that did this to him!"
"What do the security tapes show?"
"That is what's weird. The tapes show him falling to the ground and suddenly a hole appears in his head and blood is spilled everywhere! No one ever touched him."
Very confused, Greg zipped the body bag up just in time to see a clean cut man walking towards him. Printed on this mans uniform was U.S.S.S. Needing more answers, Greg walked to intercept the Secret Service man.
"Normally, the S.S. don't come out to crime scenes like these. Who are you and why is Secret Service involved? Inquired Greg as he and the man approached each other.
"I have already submitted my report to the captain here and I am on my way out. If you want to talk, come with me." said the man as he started to walk to the entrance/exit of the store.
Greg quickly followed the man barely catching a glimpse of his badge that had his name on it.
"Leon Kennedy".
To Be Continued…