Chapter 2: The Messenger pt 3
“How’d you two sleep this morning? I slept horrible,” I chuckled.
Ragdale flew into a fit, bawled up his fists. “I ought to beat you to a pulp! You punk—”
“Ragdale!” Hemlock squealed. “Heel, boy!”
“You know what he was implying—”
“A joke, yes, Ragdale, no matter how much in bad taste it was. Just a joke. What do you make of this, Chambers?” Hemlock pointed to the unusual corpse. Just as I had been informed.
The messenger was laying on a slab of concrete in a white room, colder than hell. There was a huge gash in its chest cavity, the feather buried deep inside. The body couldn’t decide to stay solid or change over to shadow. Whenever it did the lights would flicker. Sulfur was in the air, which burned my nose. I explained to them what happened to me this morning. Hemlock just smiled, nodded. Ragsdale showed his disbelief by frowning and sputtering words not meant to be understood by actual human beings.
“So this is what disturbed you and gave you the unusual tattoo? I see.” Hemlock said.
“You don’t believe him, do you?” Ragdale railed out.
“It doesn’t matter what I believe, you bozo! I want this resolved and now! You get help from us, okay, Chambers. Just name it. Solve this problem. No bloodshed of any citizens or my Officers. Understood?”
“Very nice of you, Hemlock. I need Hopps to find out who Romy Berline is and where I can find this person.”