"Get down!" the captain yelled from the middle of the dance floor. Instinctively, Randy pulled Sharona to the floor and covered her with his arm. Adrian knelt down and covered his head next to the pile of broken dishes. The shooting appeared to be over, and the Captain, Randy, Sharona, Monk and a few other policemen headed to the hallway to investigate the scene.
Sitting on the floor, in pain, was one of the cooks, who had been shot in the leg. There were several bullet holes in the walls. Fortunately, the shooter had terrible aim.
"Are you okay?" The Captain asked the cook. The cook nodded. "Sharona, can you help him?"
"Sure," she replied. She knelt down next to the cook and said "It's okay, I'm a nurse. I can help you."
"What happened here?" The Captain asked as Randy and Monk began to look around.
"I'm not sure," The cook started, wincing as Sharona bandaged his leg. "A man just came in and started shooting. I went outside to see what the commotion was and I got in the way of his fire."
"Let me get this straight," Monk interrupted, "Someone was in here, shooting at absolutely nothing, and you heard it all the way from the kitchen, came all the way around to this hallway, and got shot?" Monk pulled the captain aside, "It just doesn't make sense."
All of a sudden, people started yelling for help inside the banquet hall. "What now?" exclaimed the Captain. He, along with Monk and another officer returned to the hall. They entered to find a crowd of people around where the band was playing. The trumpet player was dead, the cause unknown. There were no wounds and witnesses reported no warning signs- he had just collapsed.
Monk looked around the band area. A half empty glass of water was on the conductor's chair. "How long ago was this refilled?" He asked a trombone player.
"About fifteen minutes before the shooting started," She replied.
Monk pulled the captain aside. "Something's wrong here. I think he was murdered; poisoned by his water glass."
"Take his water to the lab!" The Captain ordered another officer. Monk looked around at the scene as Sharona and Randy entered.
"The paramedics are taking care of the cook," Sharona said. "What happened?"
"The trumpet player is dead." Stottlemeyer replied. "Monk thinks he's been poisoned."
"Are the two connected?" Disher asked.
"I don't know. It doesn't make any sense," replied Monk. "How could a shooter with terrible aim be connected with a poisoning? And why would anyone go after a cook and a trumpet player. What could they possibly have in common?"
Just then, Sharona's cell phone rang. "Hello? What happened? Okay, I'll be right there." She hung up. "That was Benjy's sitter. He got sick. I have to leave."
"I think I'm going to stay here," said Adrian. "Something doesn't add up here, I'm going to look around a little more."
"You can go ahead, Sharona," said the Captain, "I can drive him home."
"I'll walk you to your car," Randy added. "God knows what's out there tonight." They walked through the hallway and out the door. It had gotten colder outside and Sharona shivered, only wearing a thin beaded wrap over her dress. "What am I doing?" Randy exclaimed, "You must be freezing." He quickly took off his jacket and handed it to her.
"Thank you," Sharona said, wrapping it around her shoulders. Randy walked Sharona to her car, and as she opened the door she said, "Thank you for everything." She started to take off the jacket, but Randy stopped her.
"Just keep it for now, I'll get it back tomorrow at the station house." Leaving it at that, he walked away from Sharona's car, wishing he had said more. But, all of a sudden, a twist of fate made Sharona utter ten magical words.
"Randy, my car won't start. Can you drive me home?"
Authors Note: Sorry it took so long for the update! I'm away at college now and I just got my computer! I'll write more often, and hopefully will be done with the story before classes start!
