Page 40 of Ground Truth

“First time for everything,” Flint replied as he climbed out of the cabin. “But yeah, life insurance is easier all around. I’m sure there’s a lot more to selling organs than an unsophisticated spouse killer would know. Most of the time, the organs are probably useless. Too much elapsed time between the death and a potential transplant surgery for one thing.”

“Yeah, but I’ll bet there’s more issues than timing. Tissue matching and size of the organs and things like that,” Drake replied as if he were thinking about the odds of any sort of murder-for-organs scheme. “Which would mean premeditated murder for sure.”

They walked together toward the station’s entrance. Flint guessed it must be a satellite services operation. Civilians were coming and going through the double doors and a short line had formed on the sidewalk.

“What’s the holdup?” Drake asked the man at the end of the line.

“Same as always. Security check just inside the door before you can get inside,” the man replied, turning his back to make it clear he wasn’t interested in a longer conversation.

Flint shrugged and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans to wait.

He’d done his share of waiting in government lines of one kind or another. Seeking service from any government office was an endless waiting game. Policing services were stretched just like all the others.

Drake stood behind him and they inched forward as the line moved steadily toward the double doors. After fifteen minutes, they made it inside.

Ten feet ahead was a double set of metal detectors and x-ray screening devices similar to TSA airport security. Each screening line was manned by two officers.

Visitors were required to empty their pockets and place their belongings in a bin to be scanned by x-ray. The visitor then walked through the security scanner and was reunited with his belongings on the other side.

A few people were randomly selected for wanding.

Everybody in the line seemed to know the process and follow the drill.

When Flint and Drake made it through, Drake said quietly with a wink, “That’s the full government employment plan in action right there. Six guys each shift, three shifts a day. Maybe another crew on standby for breaks. Yep, our tax dollars at work.”

“Looks like they’ve got their hands full to me.” Flint gave him a side-eye and scanned the large, overflowing lobby until he located the front desk.

A line had formed, and a lone sergeant was manning the desk.

They joined the end of the line to wait their turn like everyone else.

“The American Way.” Drake grinned. “See a line. Get in it.”

-

Chapter 21

After five minutes, Drake mused, “I wonder why there are so many people in here today.”

The small lobby was full to bursting. The crowd was hot and noisy.

Old, young, males, females. Tough-looking teenagers and frail seniors.

Molded plastic seats were fully occupied. Two dozen more people were standing, alone or in groups, waiting to be called.

Several of them seemed to know each other. Which wasn’t surprising, since this was a community police station.

Flint had been inside police stations before. Some were newer and brighter and not nearly as busy. This one had a compressed, desperate vibe. He sensed barely suppressed anger beneath the defeated torpor.

Two clusters of angry young men were loosely hanging together on opposite sides of the room.

Rivals, probably. Maybe even local gang members. Hard to tell.

Every few seconds a member of one group would shoot a quick stare across to the other group, eliciting menacing stares and trash talk in return.

“Seems like those hoodlums are looking for an excuse to rumble,” Drake said quietly.

“You been watching old movies again?” Flint replied as they shuffled forward with the line. “You think they’re the Jets and the Sharks?”

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