Angelina's Garden

A little flash fiction…

Officer Snippenberger got the call when he was at Park and King.  He had been sitting idle at a red light, about to finish his shift.  It was Friday afternoon and he needed a cold one.

A voice blasted into his car:  …The suspects are in an apartment… 378 Wedgewood Ave, Building D, unit 2… There are possibly several, armed and dangerous.  Proceed with extreme caution…”
Snippenberger cursed something under his breath, switched on his lights and eased over a curb to proceed.  Wedgewood Ave was three blocks away. “Would Lieutenant Glaze provide backup?” he wondered?

His cruiser sped quickly past the McDonalds and the Race Track.  Grey stucco and 3 stories high, the apartment complex came into view on his right.  He veered into the multi-complex, at 35 mph and drifted slightly to the left. “Glad nobody was in that lane…” he sighed.

Working past Buildings A and B, he checked his vest to make sure it was securely zipped.  With the Glock 19 on his hip and the mace attached to his belt, he felt against his left side for the taser.  “Yes,” he breathed aloud.

Building D was just ahead to the left, a parking space open out front.  No spectators.  “This must be fresh,” he thought.

Snippenberger parked the vehicle in the open space and abruptly stepped out onto the hot pavement.  Trees and shrubs lined the walkway to the first floor apartments.  He could smell a  grill cooking sausages behind Building C.  A television was blaring loudly upstairs.  Unit two was just to the right, its metal door slightly ajar.   He could hear no sound coming from the apartment.  He approached the door carefully, quietly like a blue heron fishing a shallow bar at low tide, neck lumbering forward and still.

He knocked.  Then he pressed himself against the wall next to the door, almost tripping over a fern.  He could hear a small child crying next door.  A muscle near his left bicep twitched uncontrollably.

He waited 30 seconds and no answer.  Sweat trickled down his temple.

He knocked again.

He waited quietly another 20 seconds, then he stepped forward, turned toward the door and kicked it wide.

What he saw there was a total shock.

A light switched on and half the detective staff were present!  Everyone was laughing and and yelling. “Surprise!”  “Happy Birthday, Jim!” “Thought you were gonna bust up a drug deal, huh, Jim?”   Familiar voices surrounded him.  “Armed and dangerous,” somebody said as they poked him in the ribs.

Lieutenant Glaze came from the back of the crowd, “How ’bout a cold one, Jim?  It’s Friday!”