Tom Euell and Tom Dunne had been friends
in high school and now they were both policemen.
Tall and short, they liked one enough well enough
to socialize with their wives twice a year. Barbecue.
Tom Euell spoke more than Tom Dunne. They were
young. Most of their job involved traffic tickets and alcohol.
They often stopped drunk speeding teenagers.
That was mostly what they did. Tom Euell looked at Hilda
smoking nervously in her aunt’s rocking chair. He asked her a question
and he knew what her answer would be. “Is Ken home?” he said.
His voice shook a little. Hilda, who often looked worried, looked
more worried now. “He’s working,” she said. “Double time on
Saturdays.” “No he isn’t,” said Tom with certainty. “He’s down
at the police station. We can take you there.” “What happened?”
asked Hilda. She could barely speak. “He’ll tell you,” Tom said.