Chief Grady
sat in the Coroner’s Office, on the off-chance he might manage to steal a few
moments of the busy man’s time. The situation had escalated and he desperately
needed a reasonable explanation; so he personally brought over the most recent bodies
from the previous night’s seaside disaster.
More mangled remains had been discovered on the beach. This time, Grady
was positive that there had been multiple victims. Of the severed and seemingly
chewed up body parts, the vast ranges of skin colors, including tattoos and
piercings, indicated a large number of victims.
The phones at the station had been ringing
off the hook; concerned parents reporting their teens as missing. After each call, Deputy Poole sent Grady a
text message, apprising him of the situation.
By the time the coroner was available for a meeting, the chief had
already counted twelve new Missing Persons reports.
“Hey there, Bob. Thanks for squeezing me in,” Grady said as he
extended his hand to the coroner. “I
know you’re busy but I’m really in a bind here. I’ve got to know what the heck
is tearing people up on my beach. The story has spread and the whole town is
crawling with reporters. You’ve got to
give me something to tell them. For
crying out loud, the new mess I brought to you could have remains from as many
as twelve kids.”
“Well, the consensus here is that it
was a shark attack, Chief. There’s
really not another viable alternative. On
the plus side, we were able to confirm the remains from the first attack
belonged to Adam Miller and Erin Crayburn.
Your deputy told us the prints lifted from some glasses had been theirs
and the DNA matches. At least you can
tell that to the reporters.”
“Thanks, Bob. I owe you one. Now, I guess I’m off to meet up with my own
sharks. They might not have fins but, by
God, those reporters can sense blood in the water. If I’m lucky I’ll get away without being
chewed to pieces too.”
“Good luck with that, Chief,” Bob
laughed.
Chief Grady
offered up a half-hearted chuckle as he headed for the door. More than any
other part of his job, he hated press conferences, especially when prompted by
an influx of dead bodies. The drive
across town was brief. He hadn’t even made it out of his car when a mob of
television reporters swarmed him in front of his parking spot.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please,
follow me inside and I’ll answer all your questions.”
To Chief
Grady it was clear which of the reporters were seasoned professionals and which
were the “young guns” still trying to make a name for themselves. The latter couldn’t wait until they’d made it
inside. They were hurling questions as they ran along with the pack. Grady simply shook his head and pressed on
until they reached a large conference room.
He took his place at the front of the room and motioned to the chairs
for the reporters.
“I just came from the Coroner’s
Office and they have named the cause of death as a shark attack.”
“Can you identify the bodies,
Chief?” A young reporter called out.
“Hmm, yes, they did identify the
bodies; however, I have not had a chance to notify their families. Once they’ve
been notified, I’ll be able to release that information.”
The questions
continued until Deputy Poole interrupted them claiming that there was an urgent
phone call for the chief. Seizing his
chance, Grady dashed out of the room and headed straight for his office with
Poole trailing directly behind him.
Behind closed doors he could breathe again.
“Thanks, Poole. That was perfect timing. Which line is that call?”
“There’s no call, Chief. I just figured
you needed a way out.”
“You’re a good man! I certainly owe you one. Wow, do I hate press
conferences.”
“Can I ask you something,
Chief? Did the coroner really identify
all those bodies?”
“The first two were identified. As
for newest victims, well, Bob’s got his work cut out for him. In the meantime,
I’ve got to make a visit to the Crayburns and the Millers. I’d almost rather be
holding a press conference…almost.” 
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