Testify

Summer’s End

September 22

The pulsating lights caught his attention from miles away under the black starry sky. He kept this focus, watching the ever winding road as it sloped and curved in precarious ways. Over the radio he could hear chatter from a familiar Detective’s voice requesting his location. He frowned and picked up the radio mic, looked at it cupped in his hand and tossed the wired handheld into the passenger seat.

“I’ll be there when I be there Barley, you fat POS.”

Then a distinct voice came over the radio.

“Young, what’s your location?” The voice asked simply.

His eyes flared as he quickly reached for the microphone, fumbling it in his hand and managing the wheel with keen precision.

“Yeah Captain,” He urgently responded. “I’m about half a mile out. I can see the lights,” he said with a forced nonchalance.

“Copy that. Keep me updated.”

It was minutes later when the bloom of blue and red lights enveloped the cabin of his cruiser. As he pulled up he counted five vehicles, three of them Utah Highway Patrol, the fourth, an unmarked cruiser just like his own and one large black Econoline van tagged Sheriffs Departments Evidence and Forensic Crimes Lab Division along the side.

The geek squad is here.

The fifth car was the one he drove nearly four hours to see, a first for him in many ways.

Young took a deep break and checked his pockets and surroundings to make sure he had everything he needed. Then another deep breath, controlling the exhale hoping to calm his rapidly beating heart.

“Keep it together Isaac. Your ready for this. You were born for this. You’re the best at it,” he said with a fluttering certainty.

Just as he reached for the door handle, a loud abrupt bang alerted him and he jerked just as he caught sight of a figure looming next to his door.

“Come on rook! I don’t have all day. Stop quaking in your pants and get on out here. There’s a crime waiting for you,” Barley huffed as he stepped back.

Young gritted his teeth and reluctantly obeyed. As he stepped out, a noticeably young African American appeared on a crime scene, not for the first time, but the first time as Lead Detective.

“Is that you’re professional conclusion, or are you just spinning the theory wheel Barley,” he said with satisfaction in his retort.

“Stick it Young! I had to drive four hours out here just to man the scene while you had your afternoon bottle.”

The sound of his voice was enough to send Isaac up the nearest telephone pole, or in this case the closest rock formation, and the constant insult of Barley’s disrepct made him want to drop boulders down from the top.

Right on his head. That would shut them up quick.

“I was at a funeral you prick,” he said with a low directed mumble.

Barley said nothing as he handed him his flashlight.

“You probably forgot yours. Good luck,” he said with as much kindness as he could muster. “This a dead end case anyway, perfect way to show them what you got, Rook. Too bad Halbert took you off the double homicide and put me on it instead.”

Dammit! That was my case.

Young watched Barley wobble back to his cruiser, slide in and take off in a dirt spiraling grind.

“You did forget your flashlight didn’t you?”

Young turned around and his eyes had to follow the soft accented voice down below his shoulders.

“How you doing Young?”

Well I don’t need the sympathy that’s for sure.

“Sorry about…”

“Well!” he said abruptly. “If its not my favorite Puerto Rican Crime Scene Investigator,” He joked with a gleaming smile.

“Pendejo, how many times do I have to tell you that I’m from Guatemala.”

The two began towards a grouping of flood lights sprawling over the abandon car Young had ventured so far to see.

“Well chica you make a mean Puerto Rican rice for a… where was it again?”

“Forget you man!”

Young laughed loudly. “Come on Chris you know I’m just playing,” he said as she turned and walked ahead. “Where ever you’re from, from this angle you’re all angel girl,” He said as he cocked his head far down to the right.

“Stop looking at my butt and get over her to do your job,” She said with a cheerful smile. “You know I don’t play that Isaac. I got a loving, real good looking man at home waiting for me. So get this done and get us out of here.”

Suddenly a brilliant flash blinded him and made him step back. “Whoa there Tiger Woods.”

The light quickly faded to a young Korean man before him. “Real funny. You’re kill’in me Young. I’d like to get outta here too. I have a date tomorrow and I don’t want to be chugging coffee to stay awake for it.”

[ Do I need to add a description of Tommy here?]“Alright, alright you two. Whadaya you got Tommy.”

Tommy put down the camera on a foldable table just next to him. “Well we got nothing. No hair fiber, no blood or bodily fluids. Just a broken window and a bunch of random items that probably belonged to the owner,” he pointed to the table.

Young glanced over the items and patted his shoulder.

“Good work as always you too,” His voice was more serious now and it showed in his observing eyes that washed over the table quickly.

He moved to the open drivers side door and crouched down scanning the floor around the area, then the door and its broken window, the glass scattered along the seats and floor. He combed every detail from the fabric of the seats to its position and the angle of the steering wheel.

With a sigh he stood up as Tommy and Chris continued marking the area with yellow cones as points of interest.

Dammit. He thought as he looked up in the sky.

“Barley’s probably right. This is a dead end case.”