The Whiteboard, Part Ten

The Whiteboard, Part Ten

Hey everyone! It’s part ten!

 Here is another installment on the continuing saga of Anne and her whiteboard. I am coming to the end of the story now, and I hope you haven’t figured out who the “writer” is. If so, don’t tell anyone! It’s been fun writing this weird tale. It’s also been a means to my getting some writing in each week. As my time gets squashed again with personal life stuff, I may not have time to do this for a while.  Thanks for reading along! Be sure to check out my interesting tidbit at the end of this post.

ten

So enjoy!

The Whiteboard, part ten by ©Kim Smith

The cop who showed up at Anne’s door was bald, bespecled, and burly, and his name was Person, Officer Person. He was also accompanied by his partner, who was female and friendly. She had the kind of hair that frizzed easily and it was sprinkled with gray. Officer Lang, her nametag said.

“Do come in,” Anne said as she stepped aside to admit them.

Officer Person’s entrance into Anne’s living room seemed to dwarf it. He towered over her for a moment, then got right down to business. He examined her throat and asked Lang to have a look as well. Then they both sat down and asked a few questions.

“You didn’t feel anything?” Person asked.

She self-consciously touched her throat. “No.”

He raised his eyebrows and glanced at Lang. They took out notepads and started writing.

“Tell us what happened,” he said.

She explained her week to them. “This writer whoever they are has really given me a horrible week.”

“Is there any of that writing left anywhere that we can see?” Officer Lang asked.

Anne told them what she’d seen when she got up that morning, and how she’d tried to remove the marks from her throat but how she’d left the writing.

“We’ll need to see that in a moment, but first, is there anyone you know who would do such a thing?” Officer Person asked. He stared at her with his green cat eyes and Anne shrank back into her seat. No one. How on earth could there be no one who came to mind?

“I’ve tried to consider that, of course. No one comes to mind.”

“No one? You haven’t made anyone at the office mad? Got into any arguments?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Okay, show me where the break-in occurred.”

She could only stare at him in exasperation. “I don’t know how they got in.”

“Is there any damage, ma’am?” Lang asked.

Her polite manner made Anne bristle. “I haven’t found anything.”

The two cops stared at her and glanced at each other.

“No broken glass?” Person asked.

“No. And the door was locked. And no window was lifted or broken,” Anne told them. She hated how their body posture was changing.

“Do you mind if we look around? Maybe you missed something?”

“Please be my guest.”

They both rose from their seats and began searching her small abode. Lang went to the kitchen and dining area and Person strolled through the rest. When he got to the bathroom, he called out for Lang to join him.

_________________________________

Interestingly, I got the name for Officer Lang from a local story.

Back in 2012, our local Officer Lang and other officers were serving a drug warrant, when the suspect allegedly opened fire. Two officers were shot.Lang later died of her injuries. So you could call this a nod to that fine woman officer who lost her life. Rest in peace, Martoiya.

Okay, hope you have a good weekend. Let me know how you liked this little bit of our story by leaving a comment below.

 

 

About master

Kim Smith is the author of Disk of Death, The Dread Room, Love Inn, and An Unexpected Performance.

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