Buried Ladies Chapter 1
“Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?” She said by rote. God, she thought, I hope it’s not another looney tune. She was 10 hours into a double – helping out Lupita home with a sick kid. At least it beat trying to sleep in this sauna – you couldn’t even breathe when you got outside. And her A/C was on the fritz … again.
That’s what she’d had today – looney tunes. Maybe the hot weather just brought out the crazy in folks. Jeez, she hoped Lupita’s kid was….
“He killed her. He killed his wife.”
That shut up her inner voice.
“I’m sorry, did you say he killed his wife?”
“Yes.”
“Can I please get your name and phone number … in case we get disconnected.” Lots of folks didn’t like to leave their name. Afraid of getting involved … having to testify in court. Sure, an anonymous tip was fine, but she tried to get the information. By the book.
“It’s Joan, Joan Kavanaugh. Please hurry.”
Not sure it’ll do no good since she’s dead already, she thought. But, she didn’t say it. They monitored your calls and that kinda remark got you written up. Plus, she really cared about the people of the Rio Grande Valley. She’d lived here all her life. Knew most folks until the Maquilla plants started going in bringin’ folks from Minnesota and all kinda places where the work weren’t so good and the snow piled up like cold, white dunes.
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