Odd Prompts: Snippet

This is a snip of something, likely part of the next Amaya Lombard novel, which will be titled Bone Sigh. 

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The only sounds in the room were the ticking of the clock and the odd thumps coming from the empty apartment above. Amaya held very still, breathing through an open mouth, and listened. The thumps didn’t sound like footsteps. They sounded irregular, and as though they were happening in more than one place at a time. Some there, some... 

Her radio crackled, and she jumped and cursed. 

The thumps stopped. 

“Hod.” She pulled the damn thing off her belt and spoke into it, regardless of proper radio etiquette. She knew who it was. “What?” 

“Detective Lombard,” she knew it was trouble as soon as she heard the formal title. Especially as it was the wrong title. “Would you please assist me?” 

Hod had been manning the back door. Mark was at the front. There were, to Amaya’s knowledge, no other ways into the building. Which had been cleared prior to her arrival, and since she trusted both men with her life, the thumps had been concerning her. Now, this? 

“On my way.” She backed carefully out of the silent room with the ticking clock on the mantel. Even with booties, you didn’t want to risk disturbing the least little thing in a crime scene. Like Schrodinger’s cat, a crime scene existed in a solvable state, until you started to look at it too closely. Then, decay began. 

Decay was rapidly overwhelming not only this small apartment building, which had once been a grand house in Victorian style, but the inhabitant of the apartment she’d just left. The house, well, time and tenants hadn’t been kind. The human? Similar causes, only malevolent rather than simple uncaring wear and tear. Human termites, Amaya was thinking as she reached the back door and put her hand on the knob. Burrowing in and eating without any thought of what was going to come of the infrastructure once they consumed it all. 

She opened the door, and a cacophony of voices rolled over her. The outside was as dark as the inside, so her eyes didn’t have to adjust, but the shadowy figures on the other side of a stolid Hod were hard to make out. She stepped out and to his side. 

“Deputy?” She spoke to him, trying to ignore the babble. 

There was something about home, and injustice, and she tuned it out. 

Hod didn’t look away from them. “They came and wanted in. Said we had no right to keep them out.” 

“Hm.” Amaya wondered at this low-toned, side of the mouth offering. “Seems to me we can just say it’s a crime scene. Ask when they last saw their neighbor.” 

Some time ago, from the state of the body. She could make out the mini-mob better, now. Several women, of varying ages. A pair of men, one young, one old. No children. The women were doing much of the shouting. 

“Ma’am.” Hod shifted, and she could see his face clearly enough to make out his discomfort. “Would be better comin’ from you.” 

Small town dynamics. Amaya sighed. She might as well take advantage of her strangeness. It would be a hindrance in other ways, but this time it was useful. She stepped forward to the edge of the stoop, keeping her hands loose and ready. There were rocks lining the feeble attempts at landscaping back here. 

“I’m sorry to tell you that the building is a crime scene.” Her voice, pitched to carry, fell into sudden silence with the last two words. There was a sharp gasp in the darkness, she couldn’t make out who from. 

Before they could recover, Amaya went on, keeping her voice crisp and professional. “We will work quickly, but carefully. You will be notified when you may return to your homes. In the meantime, Deputy Beeman has some questions you might answer to aid our process.” 

Feeling ruthless, Amaya turned on her heel and abandoned him to it. She hadn’t got the feeling they were going to attack, and she really did need to evaluate the other parts of the building to release them. As she walked back toward the hall, she pulled her phone out and dialed the sheriff. 

“Amaya.” He sounded distracted. 

“Sorry to bother, sir. I wanted to give you a head’s up there may be a complaint.” She stopped outside the apartment of interest, to finish her call. “Residents showed up wanting into their homes and we haven’t released the common areas yet.” 

He made an inquisitive rumble, which she took to mean that he was with his family and skirting his strict policy of never talking about work at home. 

“Shouting at Hod, mostly. I didn’t read them as violent. Upset, mostly. Not inclined to respect the young deputy.” 

“Oh,” He bit off whatever the next word had been. “Harumph.” 

“Again, it’s under control,” Amaya assured him. “Other than a potential indignant renter.” 

“Can’t blame ‘em. Do what’s needed.” 

“Yes, sir.” She hung up as he clicked off on his end. 

Chewing on her lip, she opted to go upstairs, rather than into the apartment where she’d been interrupted. Pets, she was thinking. Thumping probably meant pets, although Mark hadn’t said anything when she’d arrived. 

 The narrow, steep wooden stairs certainly creaked loudly enough to herald her arrival to anyone, human or animal. Or something else entirely, which also wouldn’t shock Amaya. Not with her history. This one was supposed to be cut and dried. Still, she knew that was open to interpretation. 

There were two doors at the top landing. Here, there would have been bedrooms, she thought, possibly servant’s quarters. Or not, out here in Kentucky. Likely children’s rooms of a large family. That was the way it had been done. Those rooms would have been knocked into one another, or converted to a bathroom. She looked at the keys she’d been given, and tried them in the door locks. The third one worked on one door, and she pushed it open just an inch. 

“Hello?” Her voice didn’t break, but the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. The room beyond was not empty. 

***

My prompt this week came from Becky Jones with "The only sounds in the room were the ticking of the clock and the odd thumps coming from the empty apartment above." 

I prompted 'Nother Mike with "“what do you mean, you can’t find the apartment?” “Oh, I can find it. I just can’t find the door.”

If you'd like to read prompt responses, or take part yourself in the challenge, head on over to More Odds than Ends!  See you in the comments...