Dylan rang the door bell, and the door open instantly. The person on the other side had been watching him go from door to door. She had already gotten a call from Gladys, her Sunday school seat mate two hours ago. Gladys had called her after mentioning to the officer she spoke with that her friend had woke her up because of something ‘funny’ going on at the hospital last night. Betty waited patiently until he arrived at her house.
“Ma’am, was anyone in the house awake at any time last night?”
“You talked to Gladys?”
“Yes ma’am. Your name is?
“Betty Malone. Would you care to come in for some coffee?”
“Would you care to answer some questions?”
“Well, I’d call that a unanimous yes.”
Betty let Dylan into the kitchen. She motioned for him to set at the kitchen table, went to the counter to grab two cups and the coffee pot. She set both on the table and told him she would be right back.
Dylan was hesitant to sit himself down at the table until he knew where she was going, or what she might be getting. A self survival instinct that over time most good officers develop. He stayed standing, his back against a solid wall, and facing the doorway into the room. He could her Betty holler down the home.
“You will have to excuse me. I had just finished watching a movie and headlights flashed in the living room window, which is unusual late at night anymore since they moved the ER entrance. I looked out to see what was going on. There isn’t much to tell, but I wrote down what I saw just incase it was more than it seemed. You never know these days.”
Betty returned with a note pad. Scrawled notes across. Betty settled herself and her pad down, and poured coffee in both cups, reaching to the center of the table for sugar and cream containers and a spoon.
“Do you take yours black?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Dylan pulled out the chair opposite, set his clipboard down with a fresh blank page. Sitting down, and taking a sip of the hot black coffee, prepared to take notes and ask questions that he hoped would aid in the investigation.


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