“That seems doable, sir. If there’s nothing else, I’ll see to your requests. Enjoy your stay here in Potluck County.”
By now, everyone’s appetite is satisfied, and they seem ready to return to the motel and rest. Deputy Peterson takes care of the bill while they ready to leave. After leaving a tip and thanking Sarah, they step into the bitter cold to walk back to their rooms. There’s a sense of excitement through their tiredness, the group is ready to hit the ground running in the morning.
CHAPTER THREE– Wendy
“On the way back to the motel, we need to stop at a store to pick up some tortillas. The breakfast casserole this morning was great, but I think it will be even better as a wrap or burrito. I prefer flour for that, but corn tortillas will do in a pinch. They have that stuff up here, right Tiko?”
“Yes, Wendy. Both kinds of tortillas are available up here, if I recall correctly. We tended to grow our own food and hunt for meat, but I saw tortillas in our small community grocery store before moving to SWACon. And I grew up in an even more rural area, so they should have it here.”
Monday morning sees Wendy’s group on their way to the ME’s office while Tewow’s group heads to the forest. Vito is in the driver’s seat with Sepulveda riding shotgun. In the back seat, Tiko sits behind Sepulveda and Libby behind Vito, while as the shortest, Wendy’s stuck in the middle. The MacGillivrays are tall, Tiko three inches above six feet while Libby is five inches taller than Wendy. Even their two sisters back home in ABQ are about Libby’s height. With their height, light blond hair and ice blue eyes, they look like Viking descendants of Norse gods or something. Wendy knows she’s no slouch either and has the dating history to prove it. Lord, they better arrive soon before she continues this ridiculous tangent.
She must be in His good grace as Vito soon turns into a parking lot adjacent to a large single-story building. He pulls into a space near a Potluck County Sheriff’s vehicle, then they walk to the main entrance. Just inside the doors is a long counter reception desk spanning twelve feet and divided into two sections. It’s shaped like a sideways H, one of the long sides faces the entrance with a single long granite top counter, a short perpendicular barrier divides the two sides into cubicles, and the parallel rear long desk serves as a storage and filing area abutting the wall behind the reception desk. Only one of the U-shaped cubicles is occupied with a receptionist speaking with a law enforcement official. Their entrance catches the attention of the clerk who alerts the police officer who then turns towards their group. The police woman is dressed in a khaki long-sleeved uniform shirt with a patch on the left upper arm and a 5-point star badge pinned to her upper left chest. Her olive-green uniform pants lead to heavy-duty black ankle lace-up boots. A khaki vaquero hat adorns her ear-length grey and brown hair.
“Welcome to Potluck County, I’m Sheriff Ulate. I’m sorry that the situation escalated when you arrived. Not that I am suggesting causation, merely commenting on the correlation. I believe I spoke with everyone briefly last night, correct? You didn’t request much additional supplies and I have them all here with me. Please follow me to the ME office area.” As they walk with the sheriff, Wendy confirms reintroductions are not needed. Sheriff Ulate can match names with faces and she recalls the basics of their abilities.
“Has there been any updates regarding the body that you can discuss, or do you wish for this to come from the ME?” Sepulveda asks.
“The ME will talk more about the condition of the body and other medical stuff, he’s much better at explaining that. He isn’t willing to sign off on cause of death until the toxicology results are returned, which can take more than a month. This will remain our case unless he rules it murder. If that happens, I’ll call the Pennsylvania State Police to investigate as I have limited resources. We’re a small county of less than 20,000 residents and I have only one deputy detective who deals mainly with robbery and narcotics plus five deputies who patrol and handle traffic collisions. There are a couple of municipalities in my county that have their own small police department, but otherwise me and my deputies provide the bulk of police service for the county.”
Their group walks into a neutral colored room with a medium-sized oak paneled oval conference table with ten chairs placed around the perimeter. In one of the chairs, a gruff-looking older man sits with several closed folders spread out before him.
“Everyone, this is Dr. Rademacher, the medical examiner for six counties, including Potluck. Rade, this is the Psycept group from Albuquerque, down in the Southwest Alliance Conservatorship. Why don’t you folks have a seat and I’ll introduce you?” The sheriff provides Dr. Rademacher with their names and abilities as they take off their heavy coats and settle in the chairs.
“Dr. Rademacher, first, thank you for meeting with us,” Wendy begins. “Second, feel free to call us by our first names, we’re not very formal. Finally, what can you tell us about the deceased individual found in the river yesterday and do you mind if we voice record what you say?” Sepulveda has her digital voice recorder out and ready to record as soon as permission is given. Taking Dr. Rademacher’s nod as approval, Sepulveda taps
