Bullet Hole

Eli Gentry and Tom Barber went to the police academy together. This story took place when they were rookie patrolmen.

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The first thing I noticed was a hole through a thick pane window at the front of the house. 

“Bullet hole.” I said to Eli. 

He had rolled up to the house right after I responded to the call from dispatch of shots fired. The domicile was one of the places where the feds stash snitches for witness protection. Looks like somebody forgot the protecting bit. 

“Should we say something to announce ourselves?” 

“Nope, let’s take a look first. Backup should get here pretty quick.” 

Eli wasn’t one much for tact. He headed straight for the front door, while I started to angle to a side window. Looked inside and I could see into the front room. 

A pile of recently bought groceries was on the floor. Cans of soup, a bag of frozen peas bleeding frost and a bunch of apples strewn around like whoever carrying them was rudely interrupted.

Eli pushed open the door and called out, 

“Police! Anybody in here?” 

Throws caution into the wind and blows our cover. Might as well had lit a flare and yelled through a bullhorn. Eli Gentry is his own worst enemy. Impatience is either gonna get beaten out of him or worse. 

“Going to the rear, partner!” I yell, tinted with anger. 

If there is anyone in the house they may bolt out a back entrance. I went to cut them off. 

Circled around back. Nobody there. Eli yells from inside, 

“Got a body, Tom.” 

Tried to open the sliding glass door. Locked. So I peered into it and through the vertical blinds I could see what looked like a figure of a woman marinating in a pool of blood in a hallway. Eli was standing over her. 

Taking off in a sprint, I reached the front as another black and white pulled up. 

Went inside and it looked like she was preparing something in the kitchen. A half chopped onion and a dropped knife on the floor. Whoever it was surprised her and put one in the back of her head execution style while she was hightailing to get away. First look said surprise attack. No knock. No time to scream. 

Called it in. The cavalry arrived about thirty minutes later. Body wasn’t going anywhere. Took their time. Detective sauntered up to the house, crumbs on his tie, after apparently making a stop to get a pastry. 

Word had it that a Jersey snitch had just settled in a few days before. Surveillance had stopped shortly after. I bet the department’ll blame budget cuts. 

Story goes he was out getting groceries when some goon bursted in and found his lady friend and took care of her, then sat tight and waited for his return. 

When the snitch got there he must’ve took one look, smelled gunpowder, turned and flew out of there zig zagging like a jackrabbit before the goon could get a bead on him. That explains the shot through the front window. Goon got exasperated.