Eugene glanced at the clock. The hands dragged through the hours without pause. The police station buzzed around him, voices mingling into an unintelligible hum. Yet, no one approached them, no one acknowledged their presence. His thoughts circled back to the absurdity of it all.
Here he was, a detective, waiting like a stranger for some kind of acknowledgment. Amèlie had dozed off beside him, her head lolling as she slept on the bench.
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling tiles as if answers might be hidden in their grid-like pattern. Why were they forgotten here? Their town wasn't exactly a hotbed of crime. They didn't have busy city streets teeming with daily misdemeanors; this wasn't that kind of place.
Perhaps he should have announced his role when they first arrived, flashed his badge and insisted on being heard.
But what bothered Eugene was that scent permeating the air, something neither human nor animal.
