The Federation
Established Nation
The Bradford County Sheriff’s department nineteen ninety eight Arrow Landmaster slowly moved through the fog, it’s headlights unable to pierce the the thick fog that had blown in from the Great White Lake that covered a small portion of Laurel State. The dirt road that Sherriff’s Deputy Jennifer Page drove over was filled with holes and ruts that made driving over it maddening as her body was bounced around in the seat of the SUV. A drive that seemed like forever was soon over as Deputy Page came to stop at a mobile home trailer that sat in a clearing in the woods. The mud clung to her boots as she walked, the wet ground clinging to her as she picked up her feet, followed by a wet sucking sound that echoed though the woods. Guided by the porch light that hung over the door to the trailer she was finally able to see the entrance clearly, the screen door hung open, the entrance like a black hole sucking in the white fog.
“Norman you in here?” Deputy page called into the trailer, her knocks rattled the aluminum walls, drowning out the slight twang in her accent all Sylvanians from the mountainous south west have.
A quiet wordless moan replied to her. “Drinking again, dammit.” She swore in her head. Page removed her boots to avoid tracking mud onto the carpet as she entered, but it was no use, the carpet was already covered in half eaten chicken thighs from the local Chicory Fried Chicken fast food restaurant. Almost slipping on a greasy bucket she made her way to the couch and in the dim light filtering into the room, she ripped open the curtains to find Norman Daggett, the Sheriff of Bradford County, drunkenly splayed out upon the couch still in uniform.
“Dammit, Jen, what are you doing?” He said through a yawn.
“I’m fixin to beat you over the head with a drumstick if you don’t clean yourself up and get back to work, we have leads to follow!” Jennifer said, half smiling at the pathetic display.
Norman sat up on the couch as Jennifer sat down next to him. A copy of the nationally distributed Charleroi City Magazine sat on the floor, opened to an article about the kidnapping of Hailey Quincey. “I didn’t know you read the City Magazine,” Jennifer as she picked it up.
"I don’t,” Norman sharply replied, “I just wanted to see what they wrote about the department. That trash reporter got it all wrong, for one, Tall Trees isn’t a suburb of Twin Echo and clearly they think this whole investigation will be headed up by the Twin Echo County Sheriff’s department. I could only wish that were the case, why what I would do to have 500 officers in my department. I’d be glad if we had 30 on any given day.”
Norman stood up and walked to the bed room in the back of the trailer and closed the door to change into a fresher uniform. “What’s on the agenda for today?” He called through the thin particle board walls.
Jennifer took out her pocket note pad and flipped through the wrinkled well used pages. “Well, last night we got a few promising tips we should follow up on, but first we have to visit Hailey’s parents in the hospital, they are finally stabilized and ready to talk about what happened.”
Ten minutes passed as Jennifer put her boots back on and patiently waited for her boss to get ready, she had left the trailer, the smell of half eaten old chicken left her nose and was replaced with only cold earthy air from outside. The wet air stuck to her skin and clothes and a chill crept up her body as she stood there. Only Norman’s rummaging could be heard, no birds chirped, there was nothing but a deathly silence and the occasional creaking sound as the wind swept through the trees. Winter was setting in and with it the gloomy moods that accompanied it.
The old SUV took only a few minutes to heat up and warm its cold occupants. The Sheriff and Deputy back out on the dirt road to drive to the hospital. With both hands on the wheel Jennifer carefully navigated the ruts and holes before finally finding pavement and the highway to the city fifteen minutes later.
”Did you get any sleep last night? Jennifer asked with a disapproving tone.
“Not much. I can’t get this whole thing off my mind.” Norman glumly replied. “This kinda stuff is only supposed to happen in the big city, I can’t believe these kidnappings have made it out this far. I suppose the city is becoming to dangerous to operate in.”
“It’s possible they aren’t connected, Norman. The Quincey’s have a lot of money, perhaps they are just waiting for things to die down before they call in a ransom.” It was clear Jennifer didn’t believe that herself.
The talk died down for a minute before Jennifer started the conversation again.
“You can’t be drinking right now Norman, we all need to be strong during this. We can’t let it get us down, this is probably going to happen again and we need to be ready.”
Norman ran his hands down his face deciding not arguing with his friend and coworker. “Yea.” Was all he managed in response.
“Norman you in here?” Deputy page called into the trailer, her knocks rattled the aluminum walls, drowning out the slight twang in her accent all Sylvanians from the mountainous south west have.
A quiet wordless moan replied to her. “Drinking again, dammit.” She swore in her head. Page removed her boots to avoid tracking mud onto the carpet as she entered, but it was no use, the carpet was already covered in half eaten chicken thighs from the local Chicory Fried Chicken fast food restaurant. Almost slipping on a greasy bucket she made her way to the couch and in the dim light filtering into the room, she ripped open the curtains to find Norman Daggett, the Sheriff of Bradford County, drunkenly splayed out upon the couch still in uniform.
“Dammit, Jen, what are you doing?” He said through a yawn.
“I’m fixin to beat you over the head with a drumstick if you don’t clean yourself up and get back to work, we have leads to follow!” Jennifer said, half smiling at the pathetic display.
Norman sat up on the couch as Jennifer sat down next to him. A copy of the nationally distributed Charleroi City Magazine sat on the floor, opened to an article about the kidnapping of Hailey Quincey. “I didn’t know you read the City Magazine,” Jennifer as she picked it up.
"I don’t,” Norman sharply replied, “I just wanted to see what they wrote about the department. That trash reporter got it all wrong, for one, Tall Trees isn’t a suburb of Twin Echo and clearly they think this whole investigation will be headed up by the Twin Echo County Sheriff’s department. I could only wish that were the case, why what I would do to have 500 officers in my department. I’d be glad if we had 30 on any given day.”
Norman stood up and walked to the bed room in the back of the trailer and closed the door to change into a fresher uniform. “What’s on the agenda for today?” He called through the thin particle board walls.
Jennifer took out her pocket note pad and flipped through the wrinkled well used pages. “Well, last night we got a few promising tips we should follow up on, but first we have to visit Hailey’s parents in the hospital, they are finally stabilized and ready to talk about what happened.”
Ten minutes passed as Jennifer put her boots back on and patiently waited for her boss to get ready, she had left the trailer, the smell of half eaten old chicken left her nose and was replaced with only cold earthy air from outside. The wet air stuck to her skin and clothes and a chill crept up her body as she stood there. Only Norman’s rummaging could be heard, no birds chirped, there was nothing but a deathly silence and the occasional creaking sound as the wind swept through the trees. Winter was setting in and with it the gloomy moods that accompanied it.
The old SUV took only a few minutes to heat up and warm its cold occupants. The Sheriff and Deputy back out on the dirt road to drive to the hospital. With both hands on the wheel Jennifer carefully navigated the ruts and holes before finally finding pavement and the highway to the city fifteen minutes later.
”Did you get any sleep last night? Jennifer asked with a disapproving tone.
“Not much. I can’t get this whole thing off my mind.” Norman glumly replied. “This kinda stuff is only supposed to happen in the big city, I can’t believe these kidnappings have made it out this far. I suppose the city is becoming to dangerous to operate in.”
“It’s possible they aren’t connected, Norman. The Quincey’s have a lot of money, perhaps they are just waiting for things to die down before they call in a ransom.” It was clear Jennifer didn’t believe that herself.
The talk died down for a minute before Jennifer started the conversation again.
“You can’t be drinking right now Norman, we all need to be strong during this. We can’t let it get us down, this is probably going to happen again and we need to be ready.”
Norman ran his hands down his face deciding not arguing with his friend and coworker. “Yea.” Was all he managed in response.
Last edited: