Tag Archives: Detective Bradley

Duck, Duck, Dead Duck; chapter fifteen, part one

“How was your day?”  My mother asked when I walked into the house.  One look at my face, though, told her all she needed to know.

“How’s Dad?”  I asked instead of answering her.  I had thought about my father all day, and I wanted to make sure he was ok.

“I’m fine,” Dad said as he emerged from the living room into the hallway.  “You should see the fix-up job they did on our window.”

“I saw it from outside,” I replied, hanging up my coat.  “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“That’s what I’ve been doing all day,” Dad grumbled, pushing fretfully at his sling.  I could sympathize after so recently being in one of my own.  I was about to say something when my cell phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Chen?  It’s Detective Bradley.  Ms. Drake still won’t talk.  We’ve been interrogating her on and off for most of the morning, but she hasn’t said a thing.”

“Her lawyer allowed you to do that?”  I asked in surprise.  From what I’ve seen on Law & Order, the lawyer wouldn’t allow the cops to ask much of anything.

“She didn’t lawyer up after all,” Detective Bradley said, sighing deeply.  “We started on her early in the morning, but she won’t say a word.  I just wanted to let you know.”  He hesitated before adding, “I shouldn’t be saying this, but I’m pretty sure she’s the one.  When they won’t talk, it’s because they have something to hide.  Most cons are eager to tell everyone how innocent they are and how they were set up.  Her not saying a word is pretty damning.”

“She did get caught red-handed,” I pointed out.  “There wasn’t much she could do about that.”

“Well, we’re pretty certain that we have our killer.  I’ll call you as soon as we get her to confess.”  I didn’t like the way he phrased that, but I couldn’t help but be grateful for his persistence.  Idly, I wondered what it was that changed his mind about me, but I didn’t much care as long as it worked to my advantage.

“What did they have to say?”  My dad said, his face looking drawn.

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Duck, Duck, Dead Duck; chapter fourteen, part two

Amidst her ranting and raving, the sound of sirens were heard.  I couldn’t tell if they were coming from the phone or directly from outside, but it really didn’t matter.  The cops were here which meant they’d put a stop to the insanity.  Through my phone, I heard the voice of Detective Bradley shouting for Shannon to put down her weapon.  Shannon screamed, but did not indicate whether or not she was going to comply.  Her phone cut off, so hopefully the detectives had winged the bitch.  I poked my head around the corner into the living room and was relieved when no shots flew by—or at my head.  After ascertaining that she wasn’t shooting any longer, I glanced down and saw my father on the floor, slumped against the couch, holding his arm.  Blood was flowing freely, and his face was white.

“Shit,” I cursed, flying to his side, trying to stay low as I did.  I hung up my cell and called 911, ordering them to send an ambulance.  “Dad, hang on,” I said, after explaining the crisis to the operator.  I was still on the line, but I wanted to reassure my father that help was on the way.

“Someone shot me,” Dad said, his eyes dulled with shock.  “Trish, someone shot me.”  There was knocking at the door, but I ignored it.  Someone else would have to answer as I was not leaving my father.

“Oh my God!  Bob!”  My mother cried from the entryway of the living room.  Heedless of possible danger to herself, she ran to my father.  “You’re hurt.  I shouldn’t have left without you.  What was I thinking?”  She started crying as she stared at the blood running down Dad’s arm.  “I have to get you help.”  She jumped to her feet, but I stopped her.

“I called 911, Mom,” I said, indicating the phone.  “Did someone get the door?  I think it was the cops.”

“Ramona did,” Mom said distractedly, checking Dad over.  By now, the others were filtering back into the room, expressing their dismay at my father being shot.  The guys looked ashamed that they had run without ensuring his safety.  Beth and Sidney looked as if they didn’t quite know what hit them, while Michele was missing from the happy crowd.  She must be with Mona and the cops.  Speaking of which, they entered the living room.  Detective Bradley looked tired but triumphant.

“We got her,” he said, nodding at us.  “You’re lucky we were close by.  We’re going to need to take your statements.”

“Later,” my mother said firmly.  “My husband is hurt.”

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Duck, Duck, Dead Duck; chapter twelve, part three

“The first time I met Brian, something zinged through me.  I could tell by the look in his eyes that he felt the same way.”  A faraway look came into her eyes and despite the serious circumstances, a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.  “After that, we made excuses not to spend time together, but Linda insisted.  She wanted me and Brian to get to know each other, so we gave in for her sake.  Every time I saw him, I felt the same pull.”  Mrs. Rodriguez stopped.

“This is starting to sound like a romance novel,” I muttered under my breath.  Even though I wasn’t as pissed at her, I had to keep up my role.  “Can you fast-forward to the sex part?”

“One time, he came over because Linda knew that my furnace wasn’t working right.  He’s a whiz at those kind of things, and Linda insisted that he see to it.  I have no sons, you see, to do that kind of thing for me.  She thought she was doing me a favor.”  This time, the smile Mrs. Rodriguez produced was mirthless.

“When was this?”  I interrupted, wanting a timeline.

“Four months ago,” Mrs. Rodriguez said, clearly irritated that I kept interrupting.

“Can I take it that your furnace remained broken?”  I asked archly, baring my teeth.  It was amazing how easy it was to rile this woman, and I watched in amusement as she flushed.

“It got fixed,” Mrs. Rodriguez said through gritted teeth.

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Duck Duck Dead Duck; chapter eleven, part two

“Let’s go through it one more time,” Detective Bradley said, sounding bored.  We were running through what had happened when I went out to the car and almost got shot, and this was the fourth time I had told the tale.  I didn’t know what else he wanted me to say because it wasn’t that dramatic.  At least Detective Sands hadn’t come, which made me happy.

“I opened the door and stepped outside,” I said snidely, not bothering to check my tone.  I was tired and achy and hungry as Detective Bradley had interrupted my breakfast which did not endear him to me.  “Just as I was closing the door, I heard something whiz by my head.  When I realized it was a bullet, I hurried back inside, but not before a second shot was fired.”

“Why were you going outside?”  Detective Bradley asked, as if he hadn’t already asked a hundred times before.

“I had bought my boyfriend some birthday presents, but left them in the car.  I went to go get them so I could wrap them.”

“Where is your boyfriend?”  Detective Bradley asked, taking a new tack.  He caught me off-guard with the question so it took me a minute to respond.

“We don’t live together, Detective.  He was, is, at his apartment.”  I hope, I added in my mind.

“Where was he last night?”  Detective Bradley continue, ignoring my tone.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged, careful not to dislodge my arm from the sling.  “Not here.”

“Any problems between the two of you?”

“Nope,” I said.  “Except that he doesn’t think I should be traipsing off on my own.”

“I would agree with that, Ms. Chen,” Detective Bradley said, scratching his jowl.  “So, you had words?”

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