The Gardens of Digby Green: Evidence
Bubba and Joe walked into the police station, and approached the woman at the first desk they saw. Joe cleared his throat. “We want to talk to a detective.”
“Take a seat over there,” she said, tilting her head toward a hard bench along one wall. She picked up the receiver of an outdated phone and spoke into it.
Bubba and Joe proceeded to wait. There was no clock on the wall that they could see from their position, and nothing to divert their attention. Cleaning chemical fumes mingled with the aroma of coffee brewing in at least one unwashed pot.
Officers propelled a guy with sweatpants below his rump through the front door and down a hall.
“I know that one,” Joe muttered.
“Yup,” Bubba agreed. “If he’s in here for longer than twenty minutes, he won’t be causing trouble for my customers tonight.”
Joe stuck his hand in his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone and a memory chip. “Three forty-five,” he said.
They continued to wait.
Bubba sighed and pulled out his phone. 4:10. “C’mon, c’mon. I’ve got to get to work.” He shifted on the bench.
“You backing out on me?”
Bubba shook his head.
Footsteps approached, and Joe looked up into the face of a man in plainclothes.
“I’m Detective Marquez. You wanted to see me?”
“Yeah,” Joe said. “Can Bubba come along?”
Bubba stood as the detective looked him up and down. When the man shrugged, and said “sure,” he relaxed.
Marquez led Joe and Bubba into a side room with a table and two chairs and closed the door. Joe sat, while Bubba leaned against the wall beside the door.
“What’s going on?”
“Last weekend, I bought a drone,” Joe said. I invited Bubba to watch the first flight. We took it to the vacant lot near the railroad tracks, where there used to be a factory. No power lines to hit, ya know?”
Marquez nodded. “Go on.”
“We flew it for maybe twenty minutes, then decided to go to Bubba’s place to see how the footage turned out.” Joe laid the memory chip on the table.
“I invited my wife to watch, too,” Bubba added, “but when we got about four minutes into the video, we saw something weird, and she freaked.”
“When I got home,” Joe went on, “my wife wanted to see what we’d filmed, and she panicked at the same point in the video, so I’m here with my friend.” He pushed the chip toward the detective, who picked it up.
“Wait here,” Marquez said, “while I take this where I can see it.”
“Is that going to take long? I need to get back to my restaurant for the evening rush,” Bubba said.
“It might be wise to phone an employee and say you’ll be late. Depending on what I see, the chip could be entered into evidence.”
The Gardens of Digby Green is a serialized story that posts on Fridays.
Next week, part thirty-seven, Perimeter.
Find a link to purchase Heartland Treasures anthology here.
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