Hello, everyone! This is my first posting on Literotica. And, while there is no inherent sex in this chapter, it will be coming. Please read and review. We writers live off feedback, after all.
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Parker McLaren rolled his eyes, as he found himself doing more and more when he spoke to his boss. Thankfully, the cell phone call meant that he did not have to show his face to the rat bastard.
"Listen, Parker," Gregory Hart said. "I know your vacation is coming up, but you're the only investigator with a clear caseload right now."
"I had a clear caseload because I was trying to get to my vacation!" Parker protested. Oh, how he wanted to punch his boss.
"Just consider it a working vacation, Parker!"
Parker was so glad that his glare couldn't penetrate the speaker system. "Are you docking my vacation hours? "
"Goodbye, Greg. Have a nice weekend." He punched the button on his phone to end the call.
He should have been in Denver now, getting on a plane to Hawaii. Today was supposed to be the start of a glorious, nine-day vacation designed to completely rid his body of the idea of work. Fate had an odd way of showing its appreciation of the idea.
Parker McLaren had joined up with the Colorado Bureau of Investigation three years ago. He'd had job offers from the FBI, the Federal Marshals, and the Denver Police Department. But he'd picked the Bureau since he wasn't a big fan of the feds, and Denver had never really appealed to him.
After a year of dreaded internship, he'd been placed with the violent crimes division, and had never looked back. But even after two years, and the last six months being the youngest senior investigator in the Bureau, he was still treated like crap.
Parker had learned to live with stuff like being called out to places like today's visit, Cold River. He reached down and took a sip from his travel mug. After that, he checked his phone, which told him to get off at the next turn was in three miles. Cold River. The name was so plain, and the town was so small, he couldn't recall any particular information about it. He wasn't even sure if he'd heard of the town before today when the call had come in.
It couldn't be too bad, he told himself.
Cold River was a town of maybe fifteen hundred, though most of that were small homes outside of the town proper. Parker had done a quick peek into the history of the city. It had been founded when silver had been found in a nearby mountain. The silver had gone quickly, but the local lumber was found to be fantastic. So, the people had stayed. Maybe the local logging company employed five hundred people in the town, while the rest of the town seemed to support the loggers or work independently.
He parked his car outside the sheriff's office, a plain building painted a drab brown. It looked, on the exterior, just like any other sheriff's office he'd seen.
He stepped out of the car after grabbing his phone, wallet, and sliding on his paddle holster. Parker passed two other cars, one SUV of the same make as his, and a smaller sedan without any official markings.
Parker walked up to the front door, which had a pane of glass with the sheriff's crest on it, and opened the door.
The interior of the sheriff's office was as familiar to him as the outside was. It consisted of a reception area, and a scattering of desks in a communal area. He passed the reception area, empty, and into the communal area.
There were only two officers in the communal area. The one sitting at the closer desk stood when he entered. "Can I help you?" The man asked in a friendly, though gruff, manner.
Parker took a moment to size him up. The deputy, he supposed, was tall, about matching his own height. He had a build like a linebacker, and seemed to make everything else look miniature in comparison.
"Yes," Parker said after a moment. "I'm Agent Parker McLaren, Colorado Bureau of Investigation." He flashed his badge, like second nature. "I was called in to assist with an investigation into a body that turned up in your town?"
"Right." The man seemed reluctant to admit that someone had called him in, though Parker understood the feeling. He knew how reluctant local authorities could be to hand over cases like this. "I'm Deputy Rick Fisher, Cold River Sherriff's Department." He stuck out his hand. "The silent guy over in the corner is Deputy Braun."
Parker shook Fisher's hand, both of their grips firm. "Pleasure to meet you, Deputy Fisher." He looked towards the other deputy, who was typing at his desk. "Deputy Braun." He nodded to him.
Fisher offered a genial smile. "Call me Rick, please. Deputy Fisher was my old man."
"All right, Rick." Parker relaxed. "Call me Parker, then." He then asked. "I hate to sound like I'm in a rush, but I'd like to take a look at your corpse. Has it already been moved to the coroner's office? I wasn't sure when you guys found it. I just got handed the file about two hours ago."
"Yea, the body's at the coroner's office. What we could find of it."
Parker furrowed his brow. "What you could find of it?" He inquired.
Fisher sighed. "Come on, I'll show you. We'll walk it there. It's just down the street." Fisher led him outside of the building. Parker breathed in the fresh air of the mountain air, savoring it.
"City folk?" Fisher said, his voice holding just a hint of tease.
"Not terribly, but it's nice out here."
"Yea, only real industry up here's the logging." Fisher said. "So where are you from, originally?"
"Colorado Springs. Dad taught at the Air Force Academy."
Fisher smirked. "Flight jockey?" He asked.
"Aerospace physics, actually." Parker answered. "Why, got something against the Air Force?"