Hazard - Chapter 2

[fbrobey.livejournal.com]

Sorry about the delay in posting this, I was so busy this evening and yesterday!  Anyway hope that you think it was worth the wait.  Comments always appreciated!

*hugs to all*

Flo xxxxx

Title: Hazard
Chapter(s): 2 of ?
Rating: 12 (On the safe side)
Characters: Greg and Ryan
Notes: Based on the song "Hazard" by Richard Marx
 

Opening the door roughly, Ryan’s eyes widened in shock to see a stout police officer with a bristling black moustache stood in the threshold.

“Mr Stiles? I’m Detective Sergeant Hickson” The short, portly man flashed his shining badge at Ryan. “May I come in?” Without waiting for a reply, he stepped over into the apartment taking down his dripping umbrella as he did so. His face was sombre. 
“A man has been found dead in the local pond. We have reason to believe that you knew him.” Ryan’s head was buzzing he wasn’t hearing this. It was a nightmare.
“Can you identify the body for me?” Ryan looked into the solemn face of the police officer. Then behind him to see Greg shuffle into the room. The policeman whipped around. 

“Ah, you must be Mr Proops, I needed to speak to you too, I may as well do this in one go.”
Holding up a crisp photograph the police officer threw it to the table. 
“Do you know this man? Yes or no”

Ryan cast his eyes down to the photograph, and let out a howl of pain and fury, like a wounded dog. Clutching his face in his hands Ryan sobbed bitterly, shoulders shaking with grief. The image of the pale, corpse swam in the fore of his mind, the kind, blue eyes no longer twinkling in the mischievous way they did. Ryan’s head spun, all sounds of the crashing storm raging outside were suddenly muted. 

Greg’s tears had dried up. The shock had stopped the steady flow of salty droplets of pain. He drew in short, sharp, raking breaths.
“I take it you know this man then?” Questioned the impatient officer.  Both of them nodded although Ryan’s had continued to pound, as though a piercing scream was cutting through his head.

“Well….” Demanded the officer, with very little sensitivity in his voice. Greg’s eyes darted to the man’s clever face, fearfully. “Surely he doesn’t…” brushing away the thought, Greg’s cracked and broken voice pierced the air.
“It’s Colin. Colin Mochrie.”