“The orphanage, Ms.Rulan called to report a murder.” I couldn’t believe the words were coming out of my mouth. “What for, I just sat down to eat lunch?” The lettuce fell from his beard onto his lap as he replied. He set down his sandwich as he glanced back. Now.” I quickly motioned and shook my hand in urgency. I sprang from my chair and rushed to my partner’s office. Don’t touch anything.” Heartbeats thudded against my chest as a bead of sweat rode down my brow. “Okay, I’ll grab my partner and we’ll be right down there. “I think I’d know what a dead person would look like.” Ms.Rulan replied, almost snapping. Had I heard that right? A murder, at an orphanage? Sounded rather morbid. “I’d like to report a murder.”Ī cold shrill trickled down my spine. I was thinking about repeating myself just in case she didn’t hear me the first time but then she answered just as I was about to say something. How are you Ms.Rulan? Everything alright?” Hearing it was her though, I picked up the phone. It’s weird, I know, but it gets really annoying if you’re receiving calls from telemarketers trying to sell you something or when someone calls you because their cat went missing again. I usually let my phone ring until it goes to my voicemail. “Jackson? Hello? This is Ms.Rulan from Silver Creek Orphanage are you there?” She said, sounding a bit distressed. So far it’s been pretty good, that was until six months ago when I received a phone call from Ms.Rulan, the orphanage site manager. I don’t argue and I don’t fight, I just obey orders and do my job. Kind of sounded strange to me to have a slogan with an orphanage but it is what it is. We welcome all shapes and sizes, was the slogan. It’s one of the smaller ones in the state of Wyoming, but we have it and it’s kind of our town’s pride. However, in this town with a population of just under a thousand we do have an orphanage. Once we showed up with our guns drawn he soiled himself and dropped the weapon then we sent him to Juvie. I’d been on the force for over ten years and the worst we had to deal with was a sixteen year old trying to rob a liquor store with a twelve inch buck knife. You see, the town of Silver Creek sounds like a pretty boring and generic town and you’d be right. I didn’t mind it, but what I didn’t like about being on the force was the strange or annoying calls I’d have to deal with.
My name is Jackson Glen although most just call me Jax, except by my superiors in the sheriff’s department they always call me Jackson. I regret to inform you of the misfortune you’re about to read, but I suppose I better start with a greeting.