Sighs of an Unconvinced Detective

By Natalie Roffing

“I’m telling you, someone tried to break into my house!”

Aaron sighed. “Ma’am, you said yourself that nothing was taken. And there are no signs of forced entry. Nothing seems out of the ordinary.”

It was the third time this week Ms. Takkenridge had called about a break-in, but they were always false alarms. Nothing taken; no sign that anyone had even been in the house.

“That’s what’s wrong with you police detectives!” Ms. Takkenridge exclaimed. “If nothing looks wrong, nothing can be wrong. I’m telling you, someone tried to break into my house!”

Aaron rubbed his forehead. “Ma’am, there’s nothing I can do! If you find anything missing, call us, and we’ll look into it. But until then, have a nice day.”

He replaced his hat and left. Ms. Takkenridge huffed and complained, but three imagined break-ins was three too many.

Getting into his cruiser, Aaron pulled the radio extension from its clip and reported, “Another false alarm.”

“Roger,” the voice on the other end came through. “I’m going to send a drive-by later today.”

“Probably for the best,” Aaron said. “However, I think we should also have an ambulance on stand-by, just in case. I fear she suffers from some sort of medical condition!”

***

Late that night, as Aaron prepared to go home, a young deputy came up to his desk.

“Detective Lawson?”

“What is it?” Aaron snapped, tired and ready for the weekend.

“There’s been a disturbance call at a Ms. Takkenridge’s house. The chief thought you should check it out since you spoke to her this morning.”

Aaron sighed. For some reason, he always felt the urge to sigh around Ms. Takkenridge. “I’m on it.” He pulled on his leather jacket and walked out to his cruiser. The weekend would have to wait.

When he pulled up to the house, he could immediately diagnose the source of the DTP call: all the lights were on inside the Takkenridge residence, windows were open, and loud rock music was blaring.

Frown on his face, Aaron walked up the steps and knocked loudly on the front door. As he waited for a response, a shiver ran down his spine as he heard the distinct sound of a shotgun cocking inside.

“Who’s there?” Ms. Takkenridge called suspiciously.

Aaron called back, “It’s Detective Lawson.”

The door swung open almost instantaneously, and he was met by Mateo, Ms. Takkenridge’s Saint Bernard. Though the dog was always drooling, clumsy, and a general goofball, he was big enough to intimidate just about anyone. He was also fiercely protective, which was why Aaron didn’t believe anyone would be brave enough to break into the house.

“Come on in.” Ms. Takkenridge gently pushed Mateo out of the way of the door and Aaron followed her to the kitchen, diving straight into the subject at hand.

“Ms. Takkenridge, are you aware that you’ve been reported for disturbing the peace?”

“What! Oh, that was probably Harris. He hates everyone and everything.” She patted her wispy white hair back down.

“Ma’am, I’m afraid it doesn’t matter who called it in. You’re going to have to turn down your music. This neighborhood has strict rules.”

“But I can’t do that! If the police won’t protect me, I have to take things into my own hands. They’re gonna get what they want tonight if I don’t stop them.”

Aaron squeezed his eyes shut. “Who’s gonna get what?”

“Ermaneers!” She snapped back. “I have to stop them, or the entire world is gonna blow.”

Aaron was about to suggest taking her to the hospital to get her head examined when multiple things happened at once. Mateo began barking his head off, there was a loud crash in the backyard, and Ms. Takkenridge screamed, “They’ve arrived!” while discharging a few rounds from her shotgun toward the back door, sending splinters in all directions.

Aaron drew his own gun, though whether to restrain Ms. Takkenridge or help fight off whomever had arrived, he couldn’t say.

A window shattered, and a cloud of smoke erupted in the kitchen.

“You’d best hold onto your hat, laddie,” Ms. Takkenridge shouted as she cocked her gun again. “Things are about to get serious!”

The back door suddenly flew off its hinges, and three creatures swarmed into the kitchen. As big as cows, their mauve tentacles supported green, praying-mantis-shaped bodies. They shouted in a strange language, like deep cricket clicks mixed with cow lowing.

“Get back, ye foul beasts!” Ms. Takkenridge discharged her gun again, and one of the creatures exploded. The two others looked at the remains of their comrade and then rushed at the old woman.

“Ah! You won’t get me today!” she cried, shooting again.

Aaron emptied his pistol at the fantastical beasts.

And this is why you never underestimate a little old lady’s wacky stories, Aaron!

***

“Gwandpa!”

Aaron sighed as Bianca interrupted the bedtime story.

“Yes, Bianca?”

“Are you saying that aliens invaded the old lady’s house?”

“Yes. At least, I think that’s what they were.”

“Why did they do that?”

“She had something they wanted.”

“But what was it, Grandpa?”

“Sorry, kiddo, but Ms. Takkenridge swore me to secrecy. If I told you, those aliens might come back.”

After contemplating something for a few minutes, Bianca looked up at him again.

“Gwandpa? Did you ever deal with anyone normal when you were a detective?”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Natalie Roffing has been writing for almost half a decade. While her work has (hopefully) improved in that time, she knows that she can still improve in a lot of areas. She focuses more on quantity than quality, preferring to write prodigious amounts over stressing over each and every sentence. When she is not writing, she loves hanging out with friends and family, and cheering on the Kansas City Chiefs.

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