"Glennon Police Department."

The woman's voice was crisp and unhurried.

"I'm trying to reach Chief Ingersol," said Evan. "It's urgent."

"Gary Ingersol retired last year. Would you like to speak with Chief Magoon?"

Evan frowned.

"Elmer Magoon?"

"Yes, sir. Chief Magoon."

Dear God help me…Mr. Magoo is the Chief of Police.

"Yes, fine," said Evan, closing his eyes a moment and shaking his head. "Tell him it's urgent."

"Well, he's not here. He's out plowing."

"Why is he plowing?"

"Bernie's sick. Ate some bad spinach."

Oh, this wasn't good.

"Then let me speak to another policeman."

"Well, there's only the Chief and Officer Reed. Would you like to speak with Officer Reed?"

"Yes, please."

"Oh, but he's not here either. He's plowing, too."

"Well is anyone there?" Evan asked, exasperated.

"Of course."

Silence.

"Can I speak to them, please?"

"Well, you are."