Don't Be a Wuss!

(okay, this was an excerpt I was going to submit to Canada Writes, but I just found out its now closed! this is supposed to be a crime page turner piece-don't really know how effective this is, but I thought I would give it a try.)

By: Christine McFarlane

The scene around him is chaotic. There are a handful of people, maybe 20 gathered at the crime scene. It’s the second scene in less than two weeks. There are people yelling, and numerous others crying, shaking their heads and saying,

“I can’t believe this has happened again!”

It doesn’t help that the local media was tipped off before the police could get there. Cameras are flashing as Richard looks down at the body spread out on the pavement before him. No witnesses surrounding the cordoned off area know that this is only his second death scene, and that he is struggling to keep his composure.

When he first arrived, in his crisp, clean blue uniform, with his cap knocked a bit askew from the rush to get there, he had knelt down to take a closer look.  He didn’t want to believe that the face staring back up at him was a friend of his sister’s-a young 25-year-old woman, who until her death had had the world in her hands.  Not anymore.

“What am I going to tell my sister?” Richard thinks.

One of only two First Nations police officers on the force in the small city of Windsor, he has only been on the force for six months. His partner, an older, crusty kind of guy has his notebook out and pen in hand. When they first got the call, Earl had snickered and said

“Don’t lose your stomach, like you did the last time, you wuss!”

(work in progress)