ASMSG Scifi Fantasy Paranormal Emagazine April 2015 | Page 23

Elida’s Tragedy
ELLE KLASS
“Oh, please forgive me. You really didn’t have to
drive all the way here, I would have happily driven to
Billows Hollow.”
Her tough expression was going nowhere, it was
plastered on like a bad paint job. She continued, “Can
we talk privately?”
“Allow me fifteen minutes and I’ll meet you across
the street,” I suggested.
“I’ll be at the coffee shop.” Her stern eyes made me
feel as though I was a child in deep doodoo
.
She was waiting at the coffee shop as promised.
Glances of a young, headstrong Burkhalder in a black
police woman’s uniform flashed through my mind as
I took a seat across from her. “Detective Burkhalder,
I will get to the point. I have been researching
Hurricane Chloe. Your name continues to pop up
during my research. You were there and I would like
some personal insight into the story. Details about the
storm and any rescue stories you may be willing to
share.”
“That was a long time ago,” she said. Her voice was
as hard as her face.
EXCERPT ONE
An hour into work, a fiftyish woman walked through
the door. Her slacks swished as she walked and
looked out of place next to her running shoes. Her
blouse was buttoned loosely around the waist
displaying a tank top underneath. Shoulder length
dark auburn hair framed her tough facial exterior and
helped to soften it.
“Lyden Times, can I assist you?” I asked as when she
arrived at my desk.
“Are you Sunshine?” She knew me?
“I am and you are?”
“The former Detective Burkhalder.”

“I understand if it’s too difficult. That was your
community and your home. The piece I’m doing is a
reflection of the good in the community, not the
devastation.”
“I was much younger, hadn’t been a Detective for
more than a year and I was wet around the collar. It’s
a small community. The worst we deal with is local
drunks and tourists. That storm really took us by
surprise,” her eyes became soulful as she continued
the story. “The beach front was in shambles, pieces of
homes rolled in and out with the tide. Luckily, most
of them were vacation homes, others evacuated at the
last minute causing a helluva traffic jam. Only a few
families remained.”
I listened intently as she progressed. “Surprisingly,
there were only four deaths but they were my friends,
Jim Tate and his family. I had known him most of my
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