Free Blood Feud by J.D. Nixon

patrol car. Safely inside, we looked at each other.
    “Weird,” he said simply.
    I nodded. “The weirdest, and that’s really saying something in this town.”
    I drove off, only to have the Sarge phone me again. “Gwen Singh has just reported a petty theft at her house. Do you want to investigate? She said it wasn’t urgent.”
    I sighed. “I’ll leave it until after we visit Miss G, Sarge. Otherwise we’ll never get there.”
    “Okay. How did it go with Mrs Villiers?”
    “She only wants to deal with you from now on.”
    “It went that well, did it?”
    “Also, she wants an update on the mysterious case of the Great Little Town Blanket Theft.”
    His turn to sigh. “Oh, for God’s sake! How are we supposed to find a missing blanket?”
    “No idea, but that’s your problem now,” I laughed. “See you later!”
    And still smiling to myself, I drove back to Miss G’s house, bumping up her pothole rutted driveway. I parked, pulled out my phone and called directory to obtain Bessie’s number.
    It rang for so long I thought it wouldn’t be answered, only to have it picked up at the last second by Bessie’s daughter, breathless from rushing. I chatted for a few inconsequential minutes before I asked about Miss G. Bessie’s daughter assured me that she wasn’t visiting and, in fact, her next visit had been planned for two weeks from now. But my call instantly worried her, and I had to spend another couple of minutes soothing her down, even though I was also filled with anxiety.
    Miss G was ninety-three and living alone with no close relatives. She might have fallen over in the bath or something. I hesitated over asking Kevin to accompany me inside. But I reasoned to myself that he wanted to be a cop and a cop had to be prepared to face any eventuality. It wasn’t as if he was a kid on work experience. If he graduated from the academy, in a few months he’d be out on the streets as a probationary police officer, upholding law and order in the real world. It wasn’t possible – or desirable – to shield someone who’d decided on our line of work from the ugly side of life.
    We traipsed up the sagging steps and I knocked loudly on the front door, calling out her name. No response. I tried again. More nothing.
    I went around the back of the house, Kevin following me. I rapped on the window of the back door, but there was no sound except for the crickets chirping in the overgrown grass. I tried the door and it opened. I didn’t want to make too much of that, although because of the overbearing presence of the Bycraft family, folks didn’t usually leave things unlocked in Little Town. And Miss G was a cautious woman by nature.
    “Miss G? It’s Tess Fuller. Are you here?” I stepped inside the kitchen, Kevin snapping at my heels. “Miss G? It’s Officer Tess. I’ve just come to check on you. Let me know if you’re here.”
    The house was so silent I could hear the ticking of the large grandfather clock from the lounge room down the hall. The kitchen was uncharacteristically messy, a mostly empty bottle of milk left sitting on a bench, surrounded by carelessly discarded plastic wrapping from a packet of ham and a loaf of bread. A couple of unrinsed empty tins of baked beans had been thrown into the sink. Cupboard doors hung open.
    My nose twitched at the faint unpleasant smell permeating the room. It might just be the food scraps , I told myself, noting that the milk in the bottle had curdled and a stray slice of ham curled with dryness on the floor.
    “Kevin, stay here,” I ordered, pulling out my Glock and heading for the hallway. Miss G’s house was similar to my own, though much grander, with a large eat-in kitchen at the back and living areas and bedrooms at the front.
    I held my gun up in front of me as I made my way down the hall.
    “Police!” I yelled in warning, scoping first the bathroom, the formal dining room and the library. Everything seemed to be in order, and my shoulders relaxed