Some Good Deeds Are Their Own Reward

Just A Hideout?

Professor Arden Flasker noticed the lights were on in one of his greenhouses the moment he arrived home. He realized immediately it was the one that housed his prize winning tulips. As quickly as he could, he stopped his car in the driveway and ran to the front entry of the large building.

The door was locked. Had he left the lights on himself? He had a routine, and he remembered it was the last thing he did before locking the door that morning. With some trepidation, he opened the door and stepped inside.

Immediately, he was hit in the forehead with some object with such force that it knocked him to the ground. He lay dazed for a moment, feeling the rush of something jumping over him. Momentarily, he was able to get his wits and got to his feet. By then, the intruder was gone. He checked the drive and the street, just to make sure, then came back to see what might have been taken.

All was in order, except for a broken side panel and a single tulip bulb with a split in it where it had hit him in the head.

That Was Five Minutes Worth. Here's The Rest.

Flasker gave the greenhouse and surrounding ground another thorough search, then retired to the house. He stood pondering the implications of a would be thief among his tulips, wondering if he should just call it good, since he had apparently arrived in time to thwart whatever was intended to be stolen.

After a few more minutes where his mind ended up wandering to other things, Flasker decided he'd make the call. It was after dark, he was tired mentally from a full day of instructing and mentoring, and it would be good to have professional sets of eyes to find clues he was probably missing.

After assuring the local police sergeant that he had left everything as it was, and that he would not go back until after his forensic team had arrived, Flasker took a mild pain killer that included a sedative, and went to bed.

Presently, Flasker was awakened by the ringing of the door bell. A quick glance at his alarm clock told him it was already 6:30 AM and the earliest strains of predawn light were already streaming through his bedroom window. Pulling on his pants and changing his shirt, he got to the front door just as the bell was rung for the fourth time.

"Sorry to wake you," an imposingly large Officer Talbert said, "We just wanted to let you know we've been through the greenhouse and over the grounds. We've found a set of footprints and picked up a few specks of blood with skin from the broken panel that we're going to try to create a DNA sample with. If your visitor last night is already in our system, we'll get a hit."

"How likely is that?" Flasker asked.

Talbert shrugged. "Who knows? Fifty-fifty? Since you say nothing was stolen, there's not really a whole lot to go on other than our perpetrator isn't a professional or was in a big hurry, and therefore it could well be someone you know, like a student, trying to get back at you for something. We'll know more if and when we're able to develop the sample."

"If?" Flasker rubbed the back of his neck. Now he was wondering if calling the police in on this was still worth it.

"I'm in charge of the case," Talbert said. "We should know later this afternoon if the sample is enough, and if it is, run it through the database. Is your cell the best way to get ahold of you?"

"After hours it is," Flasker said. "I'm at the university today until 5 pm. If you contact the switchboard, they can track me down faster."

Talbert nodded. "Okay. I'll provide an update by 6 pm tonight." He handed Flasker a card with his full name and number, then said goodbye. Flasker watched him get into the last of three vehicles that had inhabited his driveway.

It was near the end of his lunch period that Flasker was summoned to administration to take a call. It was Talbert.

"We have a match," Talbert said, his tone indicating more. "Known drug user, wanted in several thefts around the area, and a possible drug-induced murder from a couple nights ago. Thanks to your tip, we were able to widen the search area and found him hiding out in a shed about a mile and a half west of your place. I want to thank you for reporting this. You just helped us take a real bad one off the streets."

Flasker hung up and walked out into the commons, where he stood to one side and contemplated what he had just heard. To think he almost convinced himself not to make the call. A wanted felon would still be on the loose. Worse, he might have come back, thinking Flasker could ID him and wanting to make sure that didn't happen.

With a slight shudder, Flasker shook his head and headed back to his classroom.

About This Post

This post is part of the daily five minute freewrite. Today's prompt was bulb. If you're interested in joining the fun, information about the freewrite can be found here.
_{Image source—Pixabay}