Detective Byers (English Vers.)

7) The eye of the storm

-Search protocol.

A search is carried out with the suspicion of finding clues at a selected location for the resolution of a case.

The said place must be searched according to this method.

-Grid search of the premises. Physical* or visual demarcation of a search area

*In case of a possible passage, the entry of any person on the site will have to be prevented.

-Inspection of the buildings from the outside. It is necessary to opt for..."

Joyce heard the door open behind her, but she didn't look up. It had been an hour since the police officer who was supposed to assist her should have arrived, so she wasn't going to extend this courtesy to him.

"So you don't say hello to your boss? It's not a very good first impression, Officer Byers."

Joyce quickly turned in her chair, leaning back. A smile appeared on her lips as well as on the lips of the Chief who had just entered the office. He looked tired and slightly slumped. He must not have slept much since he left.

"Hey! Did you have a good trip?" Joyce asked.

He came next to her, taking a look at the documents she was reading over her shoulder. Then suddenly he closed the file and put it back with the others, at the top of a neat little pile.

"But are you crazy?! Powell asked me to work on this !"

"Yes, but I'm coming to assist you this afternoon, and I'd rather see how you shoot."

Joyce sighed.

"Couldn't we leave in like...? Ten minutes?" She was negotiating. "You could help me with the case."

"Right now I'd rather you learn how to defend yourself."

He said it in such serious tone that Joyce realised it wasn't just a little whim.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" She asked worriedly.

"Lots of things. But not here..."

Hopper walked to the entrance of the office and waved vaguely to tell Joyce to follow him. She cursed before gathering a few things and putting on her coat. She followed him to the parking lot.

She had awkwardly ducked from the inquisitive eyes of those who were now her colleagues, and waited until she was with Hopper in the car to ask the questions that were burning her tongue.

"What the hell is wrong with you!"

He hesitated for a moment, tapping the steering wheel with his fingertips and then drove off.

"I've got news for you... Bad news... I had to tell you about it before I told the others. But first I'd like to know how El is doing."

An icy terror gripped Joyce, she had a horrible feeling... Yet she forced herself to answer.

"Everything is fine, she's still in school, she and Will have been playing a lot. She's been brought up very well, don't worry."

"Please, tell me she didn't ask you for Eggos?"

"Oh! That's a brand of waffles, isn't it? She didn't tell me about it... If I'd known, I would have bought her a box. I've never tried them."

"No, don't worry... I was afraid she'd give you a hard time because of that." In spite of those last words, neither of them were in the mood to laugh. Joyce refused to meet his gaze, her eyes ostensibly riveted on the trees as they left town. She guessed that he was leading her to the shooting field. She finally dared to ask: