As we drove over the winding Archdale side-street, in a subdivision not far from a house we had considered renting, we couldn’t help but notice the 10 police cars; lights a frenzied blaze atop each car.  The squad cars lined the tree-framed street while police officers walked carefully over a freshly manicured lawn.  We watched one officer unroll the first yellow line of tape defining the scene of some gruesome crime.  

Erick tried to make light of it, “Well, that’s something you don’t see every day.”

“Not in Traverse City, anyway.”

As we drove away an eerie silence fell over the car.  Two more cars approached lights flickering and sirens screaming until the sound resounded in our own collective sigh.

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