122 (10)
June 30, 2008
“I have a question Justin. How is it every call we get to an apartment building involves stairs?” Mike’s face tried to hide the hint of a grimace as he trudged up the stairs.
“I thought you were just complaining about sitting in the car for the past four hours?” Justin was already to the top of the steps while Mike made his way up.
“The squad car seats aren’t good for my old coccyx injury. The stairs aggravate my knee injuries.”
“Well, maybe high school football was a bad choice. How many injuries did you suffer?”
“Enough to help our team win state.”
“And enough to give me a cranky partner.”
“Say, did you ever work with Laura Black?”
Justin glanced over his shoulder as he spoke. “Well, one time we were both at a domestic call. Another time she was helping with a sobriety checkpoint. You?”
Mike shrugged his shoulders. “I just saw her around the office a lot. I don’t think I ever spoke to her.”
“Do you think she went nuts, or what?”
“I have no idea man. No idea. I mean, a scream rings out and she falls forward and takes a hostage?”
“I heard she was pushed.”
“Jenkins was telling me the F.B.I. agent shot her gun out of her hand.”
“Pah. No way. No way that happened. Jenkins likes to exaggerate.”
“You’re probably right. Well, 207 is right here. Do we knock?”
“Knock? Are you mental? We’ve been here watching for the past four hours. She’s not in there. They told us the warrant was in, and we’re supposed to check for evidence before the detectives get here. “ Mike pulled out the key the apartment manager had given them, and unlocked the door. The door swung open, and Mike was greeted by a cool breeze. Justin saw the shattered patio door, sighed, and reached for his radio.
***
“Hi mom.” Michelle let go of the phone and did her best to keep it jammed between her shoulder and ear.
“Michelle, you should pull over. I know you’re driving.”
“Mom, please. I’ve done this a few times.”
“Well you don’t want to drive off the road like your Aunt Mildred.”
“I’ll be fine. How are things in Wahpeton?”
“Things are fine. You father is putting off his retirement again this year. I swear he spends more and more time managing that Pamida than at home. Are you liking Aberdeen?”
“Yes.”
“I can get you in to N.D.S.C.S. if you want to come up for culinary studies.”
“Mom, I’m not coming home to become a chef. Why do you always want me to do that?”
“Honey, I miss you so much. Can’t a mother want to keep her daughter around a bit, especially with a workaholic husband?”
“Mom…do you think dad takes you for granted?”
“What?”
“Does dad take you for granted?”
“I know it might seem that way, but sometimes I take him for granted too. He’s not perfect by any means, but he makes me laugh, he’s a good provider, and I’ve loved him for thirty years. Are you thinking about that Phil fellow?”
“Maybe.”
“He hasn’t called in a long time. I thought you were done with him?”
“I’m starting to wonder…anyway, I’ve gotta go. Suppertime.”
“Well don’t be a stranger honey. We love you.”
“Love you too mom.” Michelle closed the phone, then turned her blinker on. The Millstone waited to her right.
121 (9)
June 29, 2008
“Will…what…happened?” Tina’s words were slow in coming, and they were barely audible over the sounds of monitors in the room.
“There was an explosion” Will said, in a voice that was soft and soothing, yet loud enough to be heard over the sounds of the machines hooked up to Tina’s body.
“You can speak up” Tina said, while trying to nod. “My ears still work.”
Will allowed himself to smile ever so slightly. “The car we were checking out exploded. Forensics are still trying to figure out why. It shattered most of the windows on that side of the station. You and I were hit with shrapnel…”
Tina noticed Bob’s smile vanish entirely. “What…what’s wrong?”
“Tina…” Will stopped for a moment, and took a deep breath. “I…I spun you around to ask…the explosion…your back was to it…”
“Will…there’s no way you could have known…”
“It should have been me Tina…I’m so sorry…” Will’s words trailed off as tears started flowing down his weary face. He looked down and started taking deep breaths. His shoulders rose slowly and fell quickly, like a heavy weight kept pressing them down.
“Will…don’t blame yourself…how…many…cars explode…in this town?” Tina waited for a moment while she watched Will’s shoulders gradually cease their piston like regularity. “Will…look at me…” Will’s head slowly rose, as did his eyes. They were bloodshot and squinted. He never once raised his hands to wipe away tears. “You can’t…blame yourself. It could have been you…or…anybody out there.” Will’s eyes closed and he was visibly biting his lip. Tina smiled and closed her left hand slightly. Will’s eyes shot open as he felt Tina’s hand tighten.
“I…I shouldn’t have…”
“Shhhh…It’s okay…it’s…nice. You can hold it until they kick you out.”
Will smiled and gripped a bit tighter.
***
Phil sat down his empty water glass. “That’s the one thing I don’t like about Aberdeen…the nasty water.” Bob was engrossed in the menu, and only looked up after a few seconds.
“Huh?”
“What’s wrong man?” Phil bent forward and spoke more quietly. “Your moods are a bit all over the place today. Granted, we are in an unusual situation, but you seem to go between super happy and super zone-out all the time.”
“Unusual?” Bob took a long drink from his water glass, and sat it back down. “Twenty-four hours ago I found out one of my best friends died. I thought seeing his old place would give me some closure for the day, and all I’ve done is get my other best friend almost killed and on the run. Half the time I can’t help but think we’re in some Ben Affleck-Matt Damon vehicle and I choose to go with it. The other half of the time I think about the fact that Jer is dead and I won’t even make it to his funeral because we decided to skip out of town when the going got rough.” Bob grabbed his glass and chugged the rest of his water. Phil watched the glass hit the table, and Bob stared at the glass as well. They both looked up and saw Abbie coming towards them with a pitcher of water.
“You guys look thirsty. Do you want me to leave the pitcher?”
“Yes please” they said in unison.
120 (8)
June 28, 2008
“How many?”
Phil paused for a moment, then turned to see Bob looking through the rack of newspapers. Phil rolled his eyes and said “Two for non-smoking please.” The waitress looked and saw Bob lower his sunglasses after finding a recent copy of the Aberdeen American News. She took them to a booth, and then disappeared. Phil sat with his back straight and his elbows on the table, while Bob eased back in the booth, so his back was too the wall and his feet were kicked up on the rest of the booth. “I wonder how they feel about customers sitting that way.”
“Hey, I won’t eat like this. That would just be rude.”
Phil shook his head as a glass of water appeared in front of him. The waitress handed them each a menu. She had blond hair that was in a rough bun in back, and her name-tag was peeling a bit on all the corners. “My name’s Abbie…would you like to start your meal off with any appetizers or a salad?”
“No thanks Abbie” Bob said while barely looking up from the paper.
“Water is fine, thanks.” Phil said. “We should be ready in a few minutes.” Abbie smiled a half-hearted smile and walked away. Phil leaned towards Bob tried to see what he was looking at. “What is it?’ Phil’s voice was a loud whisper that barely got Bob’s attention.
“Just seeing if we’re news in this town yet. We got a mention but no pictures, thank goodness.”
“I’m sure they get KELO and KSFY up here.”
“Relax. No one is expecting to see us out in public. Hiding in plain sight my friend.”
“You’re just saying that because you want a burger.”
“Your words wound me, both with their bite and their accuracy.”
Phil smirked and started to slouch in his chair. He knew Bob all too well, and he knew that Bob’s mood was not what it seemed.
***
“Anything?” Julio’s eyes were still closed. He was getting closer to sleep every minute.
“Got it! The ATM receipt does go back to one Robert Fulton of Sioux Falls! We know they were on that train! The captain is going to want to hear this.”
“That’s not all he’ll want to hear” came a voice from behind Julio’s ear. Julio opened his eyes and looked up. Another officer was now standing across from Bucholz. The new officer beamed confidence, and he had a grin that a kid gets before telling on someone.
“Felix? I thought you were told to take the rest of the day off.”
“I was told to, but they didn’t make me. I came back in to run a few more checks, and check this out.”
Bucholz looked at the printout. “Big whoop. It’s a list of people who’ve checked into hotels in South Dakota tonight. So what?”
“Check the name I’ve highlighted.”
Bucholz moved his finger along the page until he found the right line. “Super 8 Aberdeen, this afternoon. Eli Elson of Dell Rapids. Big whoop.”
119 (7)
June 27, 2008
Laura crossed her arms. She had washed all of the blood off of her shoulders and legs, and her hair had been conditioned for a good five minutes. She closed her eyes and imagined herself far away from Sioux Falls. She tried to drift far away from her time with the Weatherman. She yearned for a place in her life before the army. Her mind reached back beyond her tomboyish years in high school, her parent’s divorce, and her always stronger kid brother always getting the best of her. She unfolded her arms and shut the water off. She could never go back far enough.
While she was toweling off, she noticed her answering machine blinking. It wasn’t blinking before she had gotten in the shower. She pressed play, then started pulling on her underwear.
“Laura, we need to talk. I believe you know the number to reach me at. You still have that Nokia, right? If not, I may need your number.”
Laura frowned. She knew the voice on the other end. She walked over to her entertainment center, and pulled out a VHS copy of Twister. The videotape slid out of the cardboard box, and she gripped the sides of the tape. It popped apart, and the Nokia inside popped out and landed on the floor. She put the tape back together, and then she found the battery powered phone charger. The phone charged while she fastened her bra and pulled on a black tank-top. She flipped open the phone and found “weather” in her contacts list. After pressing send, she had to only wait for one ring to hear that familiar voice.
“Laura, I’m so glad you beat the storm.”
“It wasn’t easy. I’ll tell you that.”
“I’m afraid more bad weather is heading your way. It’s really a shame. No one in Sioux Falls expected cop on cop violence.”
“Wait…what?” Laura’s tone was much less calm, and the Weatherman took notice.
“Easy, easy. Laura Black is the problem. Laura Blake, on the other hand, has a good opportunity in Houston.”
“Houston?”
“It is a bit near tornado alley, but I think the skies are much calmer there.”
“Listen here, I’ve done everything for you and your group. You’re hanging me out to dry, and you expect me to get out of this town with the F.B.I. and the locals on my tail? I have to take a fall now too? How is that fair? And where is Mokoto right now anyway?”
“She…is off the grid. She’ll turn up when we need her.”
“You…I was with you long before she came aboard. I’ve given over a decade to you. Now you’re letting this rouge make her own hours?”
“She is hard to control. Much like the weather, she is not often easy to predict, but she always has a good extended forecast.”
“Let me guess, I’m more day to day?” Laura’s voice was getting louder every time she spoke.
“Your skills are not in question, but your judgements are like correctly picking the path of a hurricane.”
“Let me guess, I should be glad Jeremiah and Jebediah left me to rot then blew up their damn car?!?”
“Those two are like the thunder and lightning that-”
“AHHH!!!! SCREW YOU AND YOUR DAMN WEATHER METAPHORS!!! TRY AND PREDICT THIS!!!” Laura closed the phone and threw it into the living room. She was huffing and puffing, and she had the urge to take a baseball bat to everything in her apartment. She took a deep breath, then walked to the living room, where the breeze from her broken patio window was quite pleasant. She picked up the phone and played with a few commands. She soon had a map, and a blip that was flashing.
“Well weatherman, your ‘thunder and lighting’ are on my doppler. After them, we’ll see about shortening your extended forecast.”
Laura smiled for the first time in hours.
118 (6)
June 26, 2008
Another day, another regret?
Current mood: bummedToday was supposed to be a good day. I was up early. I did my pilates and had some of my homemade yogurt (thank you Alton Brown). I talked with a girl a the E-Z Stop who seemed very friendly and who could be a great friend. I could use more friends in this town. Other than people in study groups and people I manage at work, I haven’t made many friends. I’ve never been good at making friends, truth be told. I’ve always been the shy girl, the one who raises her hand last, the one who never thought of flirting with a boy, the one who wasn’t just a fan of the Wallflowers, Wallflower-ing was a way of life. I thought things would be different in Aberdeen. Gosh, what was I thinking. Not to sound all emo-ish (emo-esque?), but I just can’t seem to get the hang of being comfortable in who I am. I was only comfortable like that once. We had a great thing. We laughed together, we had fun together being at home, and being out (though home was a more certain bet). He was nice, really nice. At times I thought I couldn’t ask for more. I really couldn’t. So what changed? I started wondering if I should ask for just a bit more. He started getting hung up on work. We were getting too comfortable. I didn’t know if I was making him as happy as he could be anymore. I’ve tried so hard not to think about him, but today at work one of my co-workers tried to set me up on a date. I’ve been on a date or two since I moved here, but nothing that I’d call memorable. I’ve been hit on, but not by any guy I could see myself with.
The real kick in the gut is that I realize now, while my old boyfriend wasn’t good at romantic things, and maybe he did take me for granted, he was a great friend, a great listener, and someone I was comfortable around. I still love him, but I don’t know if I am in love with him. I know it doesn’t sound like it makes any sense. To me, it barely does. I wanted to start over. I had talked to Northern about transferring to Augustana. I even applied and got accepted to Augie and Sioux Falls College. I sent him a long letter. I bared my soul. I said I was sorry. I was ready to try again. I wanted him back, and knowing how bad I hurt him was slowly eating away at me. I realize that now. I still love him. I”ll always love him. The only way to know if I’m still in love with him is to see him again. I was hoping he’d want to meet, to try again, to at least tell me to stay gone. Nothing. Three months later and no letter, no phone call, no word from my mom that he’s been looking for me. His silence is an answer, but not the one I wanted. I had hoped to check a sale at Target today, but instead I came home and cried some, and then looked at old pictures of us. I just put them away. It’s time to move on. He has, and now it’s my turn. I just have to accept what I did to him, and hope someday he can forgive me and we can at least be friends, or at least friends on Facebook or whatever.
I’m off to the Millstone. I’m craving the pancakes like he used to make, and maybe eating them again will be a step in the healing process. Maybe I’ll drive home crankin’ “Breakin’ Up” by Rilo Kiley and I’ll be able to sing “Ohh Yeah Feels good to be free” all the way home.
Michelle read over her entry and posted it to her blog, just before she left for the Millstone.
117 (5)
June 25, 2008
Bob made a break for it.
He had evaluated his options, looked for alternatives, and considered the risks, and in in that order. His overwhelming sense of need commanded him to take action. Phil was left behind, but Bob knew he’d be fine, and would catch up. There were moments where he wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do, but he went for it anyway. Now, he was taking a moment to see what Phil did, and wondering what to do next.
“DUDE! WHY DO YOU DO THAT?”
Bob shrugged his shoulders while Phil waited on the other side of 6th Avenue in Aberdeen. Phil kept to his side of the busy four-lane street, while Bob was already safely across and eying their destination. Bob walked up to a light post and leaned for a moment. While not a perfect metaphor for the two of them, it was mostly accurate. Bob took risks, and Phil didn’t. Bob knew what he wanted and how to get it, but Phil played it safe and got by with what he had. Now, Bob was ready for supper, while Phil was waiting to cross a busy street. A few minutes later, Phil was safely across. “What took you so long?”
“Hey, I know how South Dakotans drive. I wasn’t about to cross until I was good and ready. I can’t believe you darted across when you did.”
“Hey, if I’d known you would take so long I would have waited. So, what are you gonna have?” Bob looked back as he asked. The setting sun was shining bright, and Phil was squinting while he responded.
“I’m thinking pancakes.”
“Pancakes?”
“Sure, why not. Maybe they have a steak and eggs kind of meal.”
“Hey, whatever. I just want a burger. Remember, we can’t burn through all our cash just yet.”
Phil kept pace, but Bob’s pace was quickening. He was hungry, and he knew what he wanted. Phil usually didn’t know what he wanted until he saw a menu, which had Bob wondering about where Phil’s head was.
***
Black was the only color visible, but slowly it gave way to an dark, pale gray. Slowly and deliberately, the gray became lighter and lighter until it was white. The white became more defined with a bit of squinting. It was a fluorescent light, and some very ordinary ceiling tile. Tina’s ears started listening for sounds. She heard a beeping, then another kind of beeping, and then some other noises she couldn’t quite make out. She tried to move, but her body was numb almost all over. Her head could barely move, but she saw a fuzzy figure sitting next to her bed, which she was now sure was a hospital bed. She tried to speak, but her voice didn’t sound like her own, and her words didn’t make sense to her. The seated figure moved closer, and Tina squinted harder. “Will?” she croaked out at a barely audible tone. The figure scooted even closer, and she was able to make out Will Hetfield’s face with no problem. The sight of his face was a relief, but the look of concern it was showing troubled her.
116 (4)
June 24, 2008
Phil sighed and grabbed another menu. He had looked through them twice already, but he was in no mood to hear Bob flirting with the front desk girl again. He especially wasn’t in the mood to hear Bob refer to himself as “Eli” on more than one occasion. He took a menu from a place called the Millstone. He flipped open the menu and looked again. He looked over the menu and lingered on the breakfast items. His mind started drifting to omelets, waffles and pancakes. He thought about the early days with Michelle, and how he’d make pancakes every morning after she had spent the night. At least, that’s how he had done it in the early days. Pancakes and eggs gave way to cereal and toast, then orange juice and pop tarts, then coffee, and eventually he didn’t do anything special. He wanted so bad to do it again, to never stop making breakfast. He knew deep down that not making breakfast wasn’t the reason she left, but it would have been something, anything to try differently. He started going over everything in his head that he’d have done differently, when suddenly his world shifted focus back to the present. His hands were empty, and Bob was standing by him. His sunglasses were balanced on his nose, and he was looking at the menu with one hand. In the other hand, he had a Super 8 business card with a number scrawled in pen on the back. “Looks good, and it’s close. Let’s go.” Bob tossed the menu back into the wooden magazine/menu rack on the wall and swung open the door. He pushed his sunglasses up and looked at Phil. “Are ya comin’ or what.”
“Right behind you.”
***
Julio Perez rubbed his eyes and looked across the desk at officer Bucholz. “Do you need something to drink Mr. Perez?”
“No thanks. I’ve had enough coffee today. I just need some sleep eventually.”
“It has been a long day Mr. Perez, but we should hear something from the Minnesota Highway Patrol soon.”
“Do you ever get the feeling something more is going on?”
“Mr. Perez?”
“Please, call me Julio. I’ve heard Mr. Perez more today than I have in the past year.”
“Okay…Julio. What do you mean by something more?”
“This explosion, the boxcars, the officer who was shot, the government agents in your captain’s office. I heard one of your officers looking up something called the N.G.A. on a search engine…did I forget anything?”
“I…I can’t comment…officially. But, yeah, I think that’s most of it, or most of what I know about.”
Bucholz’s mind drifted for a moment, and he jumped slightly when his phone rang. “No more coffee for you either” Julio remarked.
“Bucholz.” Julio watched as Bucholz started scribbling on a notepad. “Uh-huh. Yep. No. Yes. Thanks for the tip, and give Mr. Simon our thanks for his quick action. Okay. Thank you.” Bucholz hung up the phone and started typing with one hand, as he sipped coffee with the other. He noticed Julio staring, and put down the coffee. “They found an old ATM receipt. Once I put in this number, we should know who was in the car.”
“I think we already know who, don’t we?” Julio slouched in his chair, in a vain attempt to get some sleep.
115 (3)
June 23, 2008
*KREESH*
Glass tumbled to the floor from the shattered patio door. Laura Black walked into the apartment and collapsed onto the couch. She was finally back in her apartment, but the journey was not one she’d duplicate willingly. She had a bump on her head from falling backwards when the police station shook from an explosion that she was assuming was courtesy of Jeremiah and Jebediah. Her left shoulder ached from ramming into Clayton’s midsection when he opened the door to see what had happened. There were blood streaks from her upper arms where she had cut her skin while hooking her shirt sleeves on broken glass and a chain link fence. Knees and ankles were sore from her jump out of a second floor window. Her shirt was ripped across the front where she had ripped her badge off with her teeth. Slowly, she slouched forward and slowly stood up. She walked to her bedroom door which was closed. She opened it with a kick, and proceeded to walk to her nightstand. Her face winced as she dropped to her knees and turned herself around. She bent forward as her handcuffed arms dug in the drawer for her spare handcuff keys. After what seemed like thirty minutes as opposed to thirty seconds, she had found the key and was soon finally able to free her wrists, which were now bruised and bloodied from her four hour trek back here, and her difficult journey to her second floor balcony. At least it will be easier to leave she thought to herself as she tossed the cuffs into the garbage. She tore off what remained of her police uniform and started debating whether or not she should shower before going in search of Jeremiah and Jebediah.
***
“MESSAGE THREE”
“Mabel, this is officer Bucholz from the Sioux Falls police department. We’d like to ask you some questions about earlier this afternoon. We’ve been trying to get a hold of you for a few hours now, so could call us as soon as possible please? Thanks for your time.”
B shook his head, and Mabel closed his phone. “You don’t want me to go back to the station?”
“You heard the news. It’s not safe there. What with cars blowing up and stuff.”
“Seriously, you think that the police station is unsafe?”
“You tell me. You went there to be safe, and saw the two men who had you at gunpoint.”
“What are we going to do?”
B looked down the street. He looked down and saw how tightly he was gripping the wheel of his Pacer. He looked back up as he started the car back up. “We’re going to keep a low profile for now. I have no idea where Bob and Phil got whisked off to. I don’t know how to find them. I…I honestly don’t know what to do Mabel. I don’t know why I’m keeping you out on some damn attempt to be useful again.” B slowed the car as they came to a stoplight, and Mabel put her hand on his shoulder.
“You are a much more complicated man that I gave you credit for Bartholomew, if I may call you that.”
B glanced over at Mabel. “You may, but don’t do it often. Say, would you be up for a short jaunt to Canton?”
114 (2)
June 22, 2008
Will Hetfield’s mind was a mess. It was a jumble of images and sounds, and none of them were helping him relax. He kept flashing back to the black Cadillac, in a moment there, and the next moment gone. He remembered getting up and grabbing his head, and seeing his hands bloody as he looked around. There was broken glass everywhere, and Tina’s body was limp and partially on top of his. He remembered hearing sirens in every direction, and stumbling into the station, only to be hauled out to an ambulance. Now, he was sitting in a waiting room with an ice pack on his head, squinting to see the closed captioning on the KELO newscast.
“Mr. Hetfield?”
Will looked up and to his left. He vaguely recognized the doctor who had worked on him earlier. He was a middle-aged Hispanic man, and his face looked alert and serious. “Yes…I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“I am Doctor Henriquez. I treated you and several others who came in today. Thankfully, there were very few severe injuries.”
“What…what happened to me?”
“You have a mild concussion, and a piece of debris nicked your head. We had to do a few stitches, but you’re free to go.”
“How, how is officer Tina Vig?”
Doctor Henriquez took a deep breath. Will had seen that before, whenever a doctor was telling a family bad news. “She isn’t good. We had to dig several pieces of shrapnel out of her back. She has a concussion, and she lost a lot of blood. She’s still unconscious and in intensive care.”
Will lowered the ice pack from his head and stood up. He teetered for a moment and the doctor quickly caught him. “Can I…whoa…”
“Easy Mr. Hetfield. You do have a slight concussion, and you’ve had a long day. I think you seriously need to get some rest.”
“I’ll rest later. I need to see her.”
***
“Hale, who’s all there?” The police chief’s voice boomed through the speaker phone. Captain Hale leaned forward.
“I’m here sir, along with N.R.O. agent Garrett, N.G.A. agent Lewis, and F.B.I. agent Iron-Horse.”
“What the hell are we going to tell the press? Who do we pin the blame of this cluster on?” The chief’s voice was angry, and the speaker crackled in spots.
“I have a story ready to go about a training exercise with explosives that we can pin back on the explosives manufacturer.” Garrett closed his laptop as he bent towards the phone. The four of them were all bent slightly forward around Hale’s desk.
“Who on Earth is going to buy that malarkey?”
“It’s textbook, but it seems to work most of the time.”
“I want options dammit! The mayor is on my ass to ease the public’s mind about this!”
“Say the matter is under investigation but have the boys in the lab cook up a reason that it was mechanical failure, causing the gas tank to blow.”
“Not bad Hale.”
“Actually, bad. Anyone who’s watched Mythbusters knows that gas tanks don’t explode at the level that car blew.” Clayton finished his statement and felt all eyes shift to him, and few of them looked happy.
“Is that the F.B.I. guy? Well, what’s your bright idea?” The chief’s question echoed for a moment, and Clayton carefully considered his response.
113 (1)
June 21, 2008
“Good evening, I’m Don Jorgensen for KELO Land news at six.”
“Authorities are still not commenting any further on an explosion that occurred earlier today near the Sioux Falls police station. There have been unconfirmed reports that a car exploded near the station, but so far we have not been able to confirm this. There have also been unconfirmed reports that at least one officer is in critical condition at Avera-McKennan. Sioux Falls’ Police Chief would not address the situation, other than saying no one was killed, and it was not an act of terrorism.”
“The explosion comes on the heels of another tragedy, the death of police officer Jeff Stevens sometime yesterday. While his death has not been listed as a homicide, Sioux Falls police are still looking for two men for questioning. Those men are Phillip Anderton and Robert Fulton, both of Sioux Falls. Anderton is a native of Mitchell, and Fulton is originally from Spearfish. Authorities are expanding their search to those areas, and to areas North and South of Sioux Falls. It is still unclear whether those men are being sought for information about the death of officer Stevens, or the multi-car pile-up on interstate 229 Friday evening. Amazingly, no one was killed in the accident, but two people remain in critical condition, including one unnamed member of the South Dakota Highway Patrol. “
“As if Sioux Falls police weren’t busy enough, they are also seeking this woman. Authorities do no know her name, but she is known by the alias Laura Black. She was being held by police earlier today, but escaped during the confusion after the explosion near the police station. Sioux Falls police have an officer named Laura Black on staff, but it is not known at this time if the two Lauras are one in the same.”
“Let’s turn things over to Jay Trobec in the KELO-land storm center, where he’s tracking a storm front moving into South Dakota at this hour.”
“Well, this one is an unstable front that’s moving in, and we could see a lot of atmospheric turb-”
CLICK
Phil’s face was frozen in shock. Bob hung his head after turning off the television. Bob’s mind was all over the place, and now he knew his family would be calling his cell phone non-stop until he got ahold of them. Phil swallowed a mouthful of Pepsi, then spoke. “So…I’m thinking we should turn ourselves in now.”
“Phil, I have no doubt that explosion near the police station has something to do with all this. If they can get a bomb right outside the police station, I don’t feel safe there, and especially at a station in a town like Aberdeen.”
“So…what do we do? Do we keep running? We can’t afford to just run from town to town like this.”
“I don’t know. I really should call my family somehow. My parents are going to worry all night.”
“Well, my mom might get worried” Phil said as he stood up, “but my dad won’t notice for a few days. I think he’s in Vegas for some kind of business seminar. He tends to forget his cell phone.”
“Let’s go get a bite to eat…we’ll decide what we do next after some food.”