Member
POOPHEAD189
Gunther
amorphical
Fetzen
Bork Lazer
Midnight Player
Kaithe Dame
Gelatinous Cube
Hos
The detective knocked on the door at 170 East End Avenue. She waited for a moment hoping the widow was home; not that she was in a hurry to deliver the news to Mrs. Dunsworth. But that was the case for every death notification, and she had done more than fair share of it. It was mostly always shock, denial, and finally grief. In all her years of running through he same routine, Clare had cried only once. The surviving family that time included children; the mother was locked away and their father had been killed by some thug on the streets. Nice guy apparently, from the few interviews she conducted. But once the children found out and she witnessed their reactions, Clare had to bite her tongue. She eventually went back to her vehicle to cry. The whole thing was extremely sad, and she hadn't had an easy day to begin with prior to meeting them.
Eventually, Mrs. Dunsworth opened the door. The woman appeared to be in her late 40s, possibly early 50s. She wore a black dress with high heels and expensive-looking jewelry. Her hair, an ashy brown, was pulled up into a bun. Clare then introduced herself, displaying her badge.
"Mary Dunsworth? Hi there, I'm Detective Clarissa Lopez. May I come inside?"
"Uh, yeah, sure. Is everything okay?" The woman suddenly became concerned, her face giving it away but she nonetheless stepped aside to let the detective into the apartment.
Clare bit her lip instinctively, her back to Mrs. Dunsworth before she turned to face her as the woman closed the door. "I'm afraid not. Please, have a seat," Clare motioned towards the loveseat positioned beside her and after a moment, she circled around and took a seat across from the widow. "Mrs. Dunsworth, we found your husband in a warehouse--"
"Oh, that cheating bastard! I knew he was up to no good!" She was suddenly worked up, her fist clenched up on the armrest. "Maybe he'll behave now that he's in jail, unless he's gonna fuck those men too...I'm sorry dear," she suddenly apologized with a softer expression on her face, "it's just that it isn't the first time he's caught doing things he shouldn't be doing. He never came home yesterday evening and he's ignoring my calls."
"Mrs. Dunsworth...we found his body. I'm afraid he's dead."
That was all Clare said before Mrs. Dunsworth went pale in the face, her hands starting to tremble. It seemed as though she was trying to get some words out, but she could only make little gasping sounds.
"Please, can I get you something? Maybe some water?" Clare suddenly stood up, rushing to her side. Mrs. Dunsworth looked up at her for a moment before her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her body slumped to one side.
"Shit!" Clare grabbed the radio that was clipped to her belt. "Dispatch, this is Delta-13. I need fire-rescue on a 3 to my location."
"10-4 Delta-13. Fire-rescue on a 3 to your location." the female voice verified.
Clare put the radio down and turned to the unconscious woman. She was the only first responder on scene so she had to take immediate action.
