It’s always the waiting that causes everyone to turn. Sometimes it’s the press, I guess, but it is always, in part, the waiting. I haven’t even been working on the Broadchurch case for a month and everything has already gone to hell. This small town is beginning to give up its most prized secrets. The most respectable people have been banished; and those doing the banishing are usually guilty of something far worse. Take Jack for instance, the owner of a little shop in the town square. He is also in charge of the paper route and The Sea Brigade. Everybody loved him. Then suddenly some bloody arrogant reporter decided to do a background check on Jack, and now everyone knows about an affair he had with an underage girl, as well as his conviction for the act. The whole town - along with every newspaper within fifty miles - has been trying to knock down his door for nearly a week. I did my best to protect him, but there was only so much I could do. Graffiti, threats, arson... every time I broke up a fight, another would begin within the hour. And although it seemed impossible, things grew worse as time progressed. Unfortunately, I had not thought on how far the people would be willing to go to put Jack down. Certainly I knew that the riots would continue for a while longer, until the people tired or I was able to get them under control. But murder?
Detective Inspector Alec Hardy dropped the pen he was holding and leaned back against his chair. His breathing quickened exponentially, and his head began to spin as he stared down at that word.
murder
murder
murder
murder
He hadn’t been well for a very long time, and not taking his meds that morning didn’t exactly help. Ellie would know he hadn’t taken them. She always knew. So either he could avoid her for the rest of the day, or he could swallow his pride... and the pills. The former wasn’t an option. Jack had been found dead just a few days earlier, and to skip out on the investigation during such a pivotal time would be frowned upon. He might even be fired.
Alec pulled himself to his feet. Nausea twisted in his stomach, and he could feel the painful taste of vomit reaching up his throat. But he managed to force it back down, focusing on the cabinet in front of him.
And then a knock came at his door.
Detective Inspector Alec Hardy dropped the pen he was holding and leaned back against his chair. His breathing quickened exponentially, and his head began to spin as he stared down at that word.
murder
murder
murder
murder
He hadn’t been well for a very long time, and not taking his meds that morning didn’t exactly help. Ellie would know he hadn’t taken them. She always knew. So either he could avoid her for the rest of the day, or he could swallow his pride... and the pills. The former wasn’t an option. Jack had been found dead just a few days earlier, and to skip out on the investigation during such a pivotal time would be frowned upon. He might even be fired.
Alec pulled himself to his feet. Nausea twisted in his stomach, and he could feel the painful taste of vomit reaching up his throat. But he managed to force it back down, focusing on the cabinet in front of him.
And then a knock came at his door.