No Solid Evidence

“We need to dispatch a group of police and paramedics to 7394, Rover Street. There has been a report of gunshots inside the residence. I repeat-”

I go put on my jacket and my belt, hat and boots. I hop in the passenger side of my police cruiser, and my coworker gets in the driver side. We pull out of the station and turn on the lights and sirens. We follow another car through the streets. My adrenaline is going nuts, but I force myself to stay calm. It is currently 1:32 in the morning, so there aren’t many cars on the road anyways, but the ones that are make the motion to move over quickly.

“I hate the night shift.” My driver says. Mason has almost always had the same shifts as me, so we have formed quite a bond, laughing in the break room to each others bad jokes makes the time go by faster. “I want to be home sleeping, but no. I have to go out to a report of a gun and 1:30 in the morning. What about you, Wynne?”

I shrug. “I would prefer a 9 to 5 during the day and not 9 to 5 at night, but I don’t really do anything all day anyways.”

We pull onto Rover Street and drive slower to find the house. My job is to scan the perimeter of the house and make sure everyone outside the house is safe, and I sometimes get some information from nearby civilians.

We pull into stop, and we both hop out, as well as all the other people from the other cruisers and the ambulance. A couple police go up to the house and start ordering to be let in. From what little things I’ve been told by the station and by other cops, I’m not allowed to go do that with them because of two factors. 1 is that I’m new, and I respect that, but 2 is that they dont trust a woman with that task. They ‘don’t want me to get injured doing that,’ but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to at least have a bigger role.

I take a quick sweep around the house and find nothing. All the windows are closed, and there were no footprints, so the only way out, if they did get out, was through the front door. I go around to see if there is anyone to talk to, or the one who made the call. A small group had formed outside, so I went to ask them questions.

One was obviously a family of two parents and three kids. “Hello. This is officer Wynne. Do you know anything about what’s happening? Did you or your family hear anything weird?” It’s the phrase that starts every conversation.

“No, officer.” The father states. “We just came out when we heard the sirens. What is going on? ”

“I’m not sure.” That is something I have to say. There is no solid evidence yet, so I can’t give any sort of answer. “You may as well go back inside. Can I get your address in case I need you?” They give it to me and leave.

As soon as they cross the street, Mason comes out of the house and walks towards the car, most likely for some kind of supply, so I go over to him. “Hey, what’s going on the there?” I ask as he sticks his head in the glove box for things. “Did you find anything?”

“No ones inside. We are looking in all the little places, but we can’t find anyone. There is no car in the garage.” He gets out of the car and looks at me. “Did you find anything?”

I point my thumb at the house the family went into just across the street. “They didn’t hear anything at all, and the house is secure, no way out but the front door.”

A yell came from inside the house calling Masons name, so he went back inside to keep looking. I checked the tracing of the call, and saw that the house beside it was where it had come from, so I went over there, but because I’m not allowed to go alone, I got a fellow cop named Eric to come with me.

We went up to the door and knocked. A few seconds later, it swung open, and a lady was standing there. She looked us up and down before Eric started us off with something.

“This is officers Eric and Wynne. Did you call 911?” He has a deep voice that is startling the first time you hear it. It is also louder than you would think. He scares a lot of people just by talking it’s kind of funny.

She had a look of worry on her face when she answered. “Yes, I did. I heard a lot of yelling from my neighbours around 11:00. It went on for a long time before I heard a loud noise that I can only assume is a gun-”

I cut her off before she could keep talking. “We have seven police in the building now, and they all can’t find anyone inside. There are no cars in the driveway or garage, and the neighbours across the street say they didn’t hear anything. Are you sure you heard correctly?”

“I know what I heard, and I saw someone flee the house soon after I called 911.”

“Ok” Eric said. “Did you see anything about them? Did you know who they were?”

She looked like she was about to break into tears now. “I think it was my neighbour, Mike Walker.” She was almost on the floor.

“Calm down, it’s alright.” I tried to comfort her, but I’m not very good at it. “Was he carrying anything? Did you know who was yelling inside the house? Are you sure it’s him?” I still decided to write his name down just in case. Mike Walker. It sounded familiar.

“I don’t think he was carrying anything, I don’t know who he was yelling at, and I am almost positive on what I heard.”

“Can we grab you name and number, and we will leave you alone?” Tracy Shaw. The caller was Tracy Shaw. The suspect is Mike Walker. No more evidence was gathered that night.

Slept through the day, back at work at 6 pm. I head over to Masons office and try to talk about what happened last night. We don’t usually get scam calls, and this one didn’t sound like it was one. Tracy sounded very serious and genuine, but we were not told anything, except to go home.

“Did you get anything back yet?” I ask. I can’t shake this case, and the fact the name Mike sounds familiar makes it weirder, but I can’t remember where I know it from.

“Absolutely nothing.” He doesn’t lift his head to talk to me, and keeps it in his papers. “I know, you would think maybe something, but no one heard or saw anything, and we couldn’t find anything, not a body, not gunpowder, not even a hint of anything remotely weird was wrong with that house, so unless we get some names or something-”

“I have names. Eric and I went to the callers house and got a suspect.” I stood there as he lifted his head. “Tracy Shaw, the next door neighbour, thinks she saw a man named Mike Walker running away.

“Thats getting us somewhere. Does she know who or what he may have shot?”

“She heard arguing, so it must have been a person who was shot, but she doesn’t know who. I am going to go check out this name to see exactly who this is, if you want to come.” He didn’t hesitate to get away from his paperwork.

‘Name; Mike Oswald Walker. Address; 7394 Rover Street. Date Of Birth; 6/28/1978. Age; 42. Nationality; America. Relationship; Bachelor’

“That helps a lot.” I said sarcastically. “The address lines up, so we have the right person, he’s 42, and he’s single. That’s all we can use to find this guy.”

“We don’t even know if he did anything though. Remember, we have nothing else to go off of. We don’t even have a missing persons report to guess who may have been killed. This may not have been a murder, it could have just been a dude who had a fight with a friend or something, some pots and pans fell, and they went for a jog to cool off.”

“Ok, but what about how this person left the house? Tracy only saw one person leave. What about how the noise was heard? All the windows were closed.” I decide to try and defend Tracy. She sounded like something actually happened.

Mason looked annoyed now. “Maybe they left when she wasn’t looking, or he called someone on the phone. The bang could have been from a window that was open that they closed before they left. Face it Wynne, we have nothing, and if we don’t find anything soon, it will be a closed case.” And with that, he left.

I was left standing there, flushed out in red. He might be right. Maybe this is just a big misunderstanding, but with all this information about him, I still can’t pinpoint where I know him. I don’t even know what he looks like, but I know that name.

Overwhelmed and tired, I head to a coffee shop in town, mostly because it’s one of the few places open at 5 in the morning. I go inside and order a coffee and a chocolate chip cookie and sit down. taking a sip, I look out the window at the neighbouring stores. Nothing is open, but I still look at who walks by.

While mindlessly watching them come and go, I think on my best friend who came to my apartment about a week ago. She was upset because her boyfriend dumped her, and I knew just by looking at the man that he was awful, but they lasted longer than I expected. He had a group of friends that would go sit in front of stores and get absolutely wasted. There were about six of them altogether, and they would yell things at pedestrians and cars that passed.

That was where I knew Mike. He was one of the friends of my best friends ex-boyfriend. Now that I knew who he was though, It didn’t help the case. He didn’t seem like the type to commit murder, but there was still to little, and I was extremely tired, so I drove myself home.

I don’t bother telling Mason, because I think he’s still mad at me from yesterday. I don’t bother telling anyone. I also didn’t do it the next day, or the day after, or even the day after that. Soon it was the official one week after the call and reported murder, and everyone had gone on without it, only because there was nothing more to do.

I get the job to go and patrol the neighbourhood just a couple streets over from Rover Street, and I pass by the house on my way there.

As I passed it, I saw something in the window. A shine of some kind. I have the windows of the cruiser rolled down, and I slow down to see if I can hear anything. I wait for a second. I don’t hear anything, so I slowly begin to pull away. As I’m picking up some speed to leave, I hear it. A bang that can faintly be heard from the general direction. I sit in my car deciding what to do when I hear it again. It’s not a gun, but it is a loud noise. Screaming can now also be heard.

“This is officer Wynne, I’m on Rover Street, the one from the reported murder. I can hear banging and screams coming from inside in complex.” My radio muffles for a second before someone answers.

“Officer Wynne, you are meant to be on Oliver Street, correct?” The voice is female and I can tell she is quite young.

“That is correct.” I reply. I’ve tried arguing with the operators before. It gets you nowhere. “I will be requesting backup to check it out. Something is going on inside.”

A long period of silence before she answers. “If you really think it is necessary, I can send someone out.”

I get Eric and a few other co-workers and a dog to come to the house. When they arrive, we get ready to enter the house. I can’t describe what I’m feeling right now. It’s a big mix of excitement and fear and nervousness and pure adrenaline. I don’t get to do this type of stuff, and no one has told me I can’t right now, so I am going inside.

“You ready?” Eric’s voice comes from behind me while I’m half in my car grabbing things, and it makes me jump. No matter how many times I hear it, I will never get used to his deep voice.

I stand up and look at him. I’m a little taller than him, and it makes me feel weird. “I think so.”

We go and approach the front door. It has a nice gold handel and an oak door, and it fits nice with the stone house. It has a knocker, but it’s for aesthetic. I know because it has a doorbell nest to the door.

Eric comes up and does three quick knocks on the door with his fist. “This is the police department. We will need for you to open this door, or we may have to break it down.”

Nothing. Pure silence. We all look at each other, and then they all look to me.

“Are you sure someone is in here? It doesn’t sound like anyone’s even home.”

I look him dead in the eyes and with the most calm and serious face I can make, I respond, “I definitely heard something from inside. Someone’s in there, and something’s going on. They must have heard you. Break the door down.”

“But I don’t think anyone’s even in-”

“Break the door down.” I don’t care what they say. They need to care what I say.

They all look at each other, and one pulls out the door breacher and swings it. It hits the door four times before it falls in. I never was able to see one of those things actually work.

We walk in, and the first thing we all notice is the smell. Its awful, like something rotted away.

We walk in and I start looking for things. The dog is looking for the exact spot the smell is coming from. It lifts its ears and looks down the stairs to the basement. I can hear it too. faint screams pleading for help.

Eric opens the door to the basement and starts to go down, and I begin to follow. We creap extremely slow. Eric rounds the corner by the bottom of the stairs. As soon as he does, I hear the other cops upstairs yelling.

“I found It! It’s in the floor! You, come help me with this. Oh my God, it’s a body! Someone’s dead under the floorboards!”

I’m about to run up when I hear an ear piercing bang, followed by a thud. I put two and two together. Tracy wasn’t lying. Tracy was’t lying. Mike is a murderer. He is here. He is in the basement. Mike just shot Eric in the basement. I hear the dog and the other cops upstairs frantic. I begin to run when something catches me and pulls me down.

I can’t catch my breath and I’m trying but I can’t, and the hand pulls me down the stairs and round the corner. The other police can’t get the door to the basement open, and start banging, but someone runs out from behind me and the other person and up the stairs and I hear it lock up. There are two people here.

The person who is holding me shows his face. It’s definitely Mike. His jawline and his dull eyes tell me it’s him. He puts a hand on my mouth so I can’t talk.

The second person comes down the stairs and I get to see who it is. I can’t believe who I’m seeing. I must be hallucinating because it can’t be Mason. It can’t be Mason. He’s my good friend, my best friend. Why would he do this? He said he didn’t believe Mike was a murderer.

He didn’t believe Mike was a murderer. He said he didn’t want to investigate into this. This would be why. He has working for him.

“Hi, Wynne.” He says so calmly. Oh so calmly. I struggle, but can’t break free. “I’m sorry you had to see this.” He gestured to Erics limp body on the floor in a pool of his own blood. His chest wasn’t moving at all.

The dog upstairs is barking and the cops are yelling but I can’t hear them. I focus on Masons face as he pulls a gun from his belt. He loads it and orders Mike to put me in a chair sitting nearby. He does so an pulls a rope across my mouth and tyes it behind the back of my head, and tyes my hands and feet as well, all as Mason watch me. I can’t get free now.

He points the gun at me and says one last thing;

“I’m sorry, Wynne, but maybe you should’ve just minded your own business, and you wouldn’t have ended up here this case with no solid evidence.”

Bang