The sun is setting as Detective Miller pulls into the small parking lot of the Rensselaer County Town Hall. The old, two-story brick structure looks like something out of an era gone by when radio was the dominant form of entertainment and people actually sat down to read books. Real paper books.
Parking his unmarked APD cruiser, he jogs up the steps and heads inside. On the wall-mounted directory to his right, he finds the second-floor location of the Tax Accessor’s office. A wood staircase is to his left, and he doesn’t hesitate to climb the steps two at a time.
His gut instinct has kicked in.
At his age and experience on the job, it doesn’t require a lot of thought to know when something isn’t right or when an emergency might be brewing. It’s more of a gut feeling. A slight tighte
