AfterNet 01 - Good Cop Dead Cop

head back to town if we hear anything on the radio,” she said.
    “Agreed,” he said.
    They spent the rest of the day continuing their follow-up on the reports from the previous day’s hit and run. The accident made the papers and television news. Many of the stories mentioned their involvement trying to find disembodied witnesses. Probably because of the news coverage, they had a half dozen more reliable disembodied reports.
    “What an asshole!” she said suddenly.
    “Who is?” he asked.
    “This person claims to be one of the victims,” she said. He looked at the report and saw that the report definitely came from someone the AfterNet verified as disembodied, but who obviously couldn’t have been one of the victims. None of the three victims had died, although two were listed as critical.
    “I’m definitely going to report this,” she said. She sent a message to AfterNet security. She would prefer that person be banned from the AfterNet and the Internet for eternity, although that was, of course, impossible. The Supreme Court had already ruled that preventing anyone from accessing the AfterNet was cruel and unusual. Still, the jerk would have a red flag warning everyone that the person had attempted an imposture.
    “You know, Alex, this is important work.”
    “Yeah, I know.”
    “Even this. Yeah, it’s a false report, but I got to catch a creep and identify him. Very satisfying.”
    “Nice job, Masked Avenger,” he said.
    “Thank you. What time do you think we should leave tonight?”
    “Heavy sigh, Linda. Stop obsessing. We’ve been over this.”
    They’d actually debated their plans all day. She would take a video camera and document what she could and they’d try to prevent anyone from being kidnapped. They also decided to transfer the terminal from their regular car and transfer it to an unmarked car from the motor pool. It would be a lot easier to take statements from any disembodied kids using the car terminal than her portable one.
    Except for the riot duty issue, she never talked about backing out, but she was the kind of person who wanted to do things by the book, even when she was doing something that wasn’t in the book. They’d agree they would call dispatch before they started for Gilcrest and would call regularly throughout the night. They would leave a little before 9 p.m. and arrive around 10, figuring any kidnapping attempt would happen after midnight.
    “I think it’s the one on the left,” she said, turning down the car radio. They’d long since left the range of the police radio. She’d been listening to coverage of the downtown fireworks on a local radio station. It was the first time since before the riots that the city had a downtown celebration. The 9 o’clock display had gone off without any problems.
    They were at the crossroads of nowhere and nowhere; two county roads without names, just numbers, meeting at a neat 90 degree angle. The intermittent wipers smeared the light snow across the windshield. The headlights illuminated the flakes but did nothing to dispel the darkness.
    “No Gilcrest is straight ahead,” Munroe repeated.
    “You’re sure?” Yamaguchi asked.
    “Pretty sure, I think.”
    She looked at the empty passenger seat and sent him looks that would kill.
    “I thought guys were good at this sort of thing. And you’re the one who gives me directions when we’re working.”
    “Google maps, Linda. Why do you think I instruct you to drive 3.4 miles and turn east on U.S. Highway 85? Anyway, I looked it up before we left. I’m sure.” He didn’t add that he’d lost Internet access for about five minutes and couldn’t reconfirm the directions.
    “OK, we go straight ahead,” she said.
    Another couple minutes of driving brought them to Platteville and the intersection with U.S. 85. She flicked her turn signal indicator left. She hadn’t seen any other traffic for half an hour, but the gesture seemed a good way to indicate her annoyance at Munroe’s directions. After five minutes of driving, however, she saw a sign indicating they’d entered Gilcrest’s city limits.
    “Oh my God, people live like this,” Yamaguchi said.
    “I’m sure it’s a nice little town if you’re not looking for soul snatchers on a dark, snowy New Year’s Eve. Besides, I lived in a town not much larger than this.”
    “And slept in a bed with your twelve brothers and sisters to keep warm, I’ll bet.”
    “Yeah, and we … wait, OK, that’s Elm, turn