Second Avenue ~ ~ First 3 Chapters

Chapter 01

Connor shuffled along the damp, dingy street lit by grimy street lamps of a bygone era. He kept his hat hung low over his eyes. Every once in a while he would peak out from under the brim. He stuffed his hands deep in the pockets of the old jacket he wore, which was as grimy and dirty as the street lamps.

The sun began to slither behind the tall buildings. The glass on the outside windows once reflected the beauty of the neighborhood, which left decades before. As Connor continued his shuffle down the street, he side stepped the pimps and ignored the come on from the whores. He snickered at the lurid windows of sex shops and the crap filled entries of the XXX video stores. He didn’t need those places to get his high.

When Connor reached the corner where the Paradise Bar was open for business under broken street lamps that were held in place by the bums and winos leaning against them, he stopped by a young, broken down, crack addicted street walker. In a low hoarse whisper, he commanded; “Come with me, bitch.”

She slipped in step behind Connor as he was the first trick of an already long, cold night. In the ally, Connor stopped suddenly, and drew his long, glistening Bowie knife from his belt. In a quick motion, he turned and let the tip of the knife slide swiftly and deeply across the front of the whore’s neck. After she collapsed in lump on the filthy concrete, he smiled and let his body shiver in a spasm of delight before he wiped the knife tip on the ragged clothes of his latest victim. For Connor, she was a victim that nobody would miss, much less care about.

There was a filth encrusted and nearly rusted out dumpster between Connor and Second Avenue. He peeled off the dirty jacket and hat and casually tossed them into the foul smelling garbage bin. He then pulled off the latex gloves as he walked away and shoved them into the back pocket of his clean, trendy jeans. He took long, arrogant strides in the same direction that he walked before encountering the prostitute. A smile crossed his face as he held his head high. He made sure to say “hi” to those who made eye contact with him. They returned the smile with either a nod or a “hi” response. They felt a certain joy at being recognized by Connor.

On the edge of the area known as Old Town, Connor slipped behind the wheel of his large, black Lincoln. He drove to River Park and stopped next to the bike trails that circled the city. He removed his belt, and the contents of his pockets, except for the latex gloves. He tossed the old shoes and the jeans in the remarkably clean dumpster that was half full. He heard the sounds of a garbage truck heading his way. He started jogging toward the trails as he used the remote to lock his car.

An hour later, Connor returned from his run along the river. He was hot and sweaty; but at the same time he felt refreshed and alive. He quickly double checked the dumpster was empty before he opened the door lock and slid into the driver’s seat. He headed toward his favorite gym that was only two miles from the park. He pointed his Lincoln in that direction.

He parked in an out-of-the-way corner. He knew it was out of sight of the security cameras and not in direct line of sight of any of the windows. He got out of the car quickly and swiftly started jogging the neighborhood surrounding the gym. One time around the block; and as the sun blinked its last light, he headed in the door after passing his key card in front of the electronic reading pad. Connor headed straight to the locker rooms. He visited with some of the regulars he saw when he was changing out of his street clothes. They all laughed at the hapless joke Joe told for the fifth time.

He let the hot water of the shower pour over him, allowing him to let his mind wander to his earlier exercise in an ally along Second Avenue. After fifteen minutes he turned off all the hot water and let the chill of the cold water bring his clear-headed and well organized thinking back from the razor’s edge of sanity. He brushed his teeth, shaved and combed his hair. Connor admired his reflection in the mirror. Back at his locker he slipped on his crisply starched, monogrammed pure white dress shirt with gold and onyx cuff links. After tying his red power tie, he put on the smoke gray pin-striped suit he wore from the office. With a huge smile on his face, he left through the front door knowing he passed the “by-the-light-of-day” test.

Chapter 02

Sioux Falls Police Chief, Mike Kenny thought he was dreaming of a ringing cell phone. The only problem was that he was dreaming of fly-fishing Spearfish Creek down stream from Cheyenne Crossing in the Black Hills of South Dakota. When ever he was fly-fishing his cell phone was turned off or left in the car. The cell phone quit ringing so he went back to trying to lure that big “lunker” of a Brown Trout out of his hiding place. The cell started ringing, again.

Mike opened one eye and spied the clock on his night stand. It read 4:12 AM. With the one eye open, he was awake enough to know that the cell phone that was ringing was his personal cell and not his official work cell. He wondered; “Who in the Hell would be calling me at this hour and especially on my personal phone? Only a handful of people have this number.”

He quickly slid out of bed, picking up the cell phone at the same time. He flipped it open and looked at the caller ID as he nearly ran out of the bedroom, making sure to quietly close the door behind himself. He scratched his head in complete confusion over why this particular friend would be calling him especially at this hour of the day if it wasn’t official police business.

He answered in a hoarse whisper; “Hey Brad, what’s going on at four in the morning? Is there a fishing stream you want me to meet you at?”

Brad, in an unusual hesitating voice, somberly responded; “Mike, I got a call this morning from one of our downtown divisions. Ah shit, Mike! There isn’t an easy way to tell you this, let alone describe it. They found Eileen’s niece in a shit-hole of an alley off Second Avenue, shortly after midnight. She was murdered by that psycho who’s been attacking the prostitutes in that area. Mike, she was in rough shape before this happened.”

Mike quickly woke up from the pleasant dream that lingered as he heard Brad speaking. Those words finally sunk in; “We’ll be over as soon as we can get there, Brad.”

“Mike, it’s a four and half hour drive. The ME has to complete the autopsy and most of all the shit is really going to hit the fan, starting with the Mayor’s office on down. Carol was victim number thirteen. Besides, Eileen is not going to want to see her in this condition. Why not come until after the official day is over. You’re going to be staying at our place. Joanie would not want it any other way.”

Mike responded, knowing what was going to happen regardless of what was said; “Thanks, Brad. We both know that Eileen is going to want to get there sooner rather than later. We’ll stop by your place. Say, Brad, do you remember Frank Ingram?”
“Yeah, why do you ask?”

“I can’t remember if I told you, that he quit the force and went into private practice with a college professor, Bob Johnson. I’m sure, you’ve heard of Johnson, Ingram Consulting.”

“I had no idea that he was that Ingram. And, you say that Johnson is a college professor; I would have never guessed. Obviously, they are good at what they do; I got their number from the FBI after victim number ten showed up.”

“I don’t want to be presumptuous; but with the heat that’s going be pouring down your back, you might want some fresh eyes that aren’t politically motivated. Bob keeps asking if we’ve found out anything about Carol on a regular basis. He became real close with Angie, Carol’s sister when she started college. I’ll lay odds this won’t cost your city a dime.”

“Coming from you, Mike, this is a much better recommendation than from the Feebs. For starters have them meet us at our home.”
Mike considered this request only briefly; “Better yet, get them three suites, connected or just across the hall from one another. We’ll meet them there. Our wives have no need to know all the gruesome details. They’ll probably arrive about the same time we show up at your door. They are very efficient.”

Brad chewed on that thought for a few moments before responding; “Okay, this is going to be unofficial, since as you say there won’t be a cost to the city. This way I won’t have to explain their presence. Uhm, how about you give them a retainer so they can officially say they are working for the family of the victim.”

“Brad, I can see your mind works much better at four in the morning than does mine. What can you tell me about these murders, except that they’re all prostitutes who ply Second Avenue?”

Brad heaved a heavy sigh gathering his thoughts before he replied; “That’s part of the problem; we don’t have much, Mike. After victim number five, the girls started talking to our detectives. Other than the hawkers, pimps and the street regulars (who they recognized), nothing unusual popped up or was seen. They did mention see a few odd balls; but those were singular events that could not be connected to any more than one event. It’s like this guy is a ghost. There is one that stood out with the most recent murder. There was a shifty character with a broad had who shuffled through the area avoiding contact with everyone along the way. He kept the brim of the hat pulled low over his eyes, so no one could give a good description.”

Mike asked the obvious; “So, we have someone who changes his appearance each time? How about times of day and patterns of the kills?”
Brad sighed, again; “That’s another problem, they’re all over the map. The only constant is the area. The times of day, you can pick any time and be right on; as for patterns. That is fairly consistent. He only attacks prostitutes and he uses a real sharp object to slit their throats. That is all we have. The lab has some stuff out of a dumpster; but so far they haven’t connected anything.”

Mike finalized the call; “Brad, we’ll be there by noon. I appreciate you calling as soon as you did. Please, call me as soon as you have the reservations for Frank, Bob and their group.”

“Will do, my friend. Sorry, I had to lay this on you.”

Chapter 03

Mike stumbled out of the bathroom and nearly rolled down the stairs. After his phone call with Brad, Mike knew that he needed a big, big cup of very black coffee. Before heading downstairs he made sure that Eileen was still sleeping. With the coffee brewing and after making sure their dog Maizie was on the outside of the door, he pushed Frank’s speed-dial number and pressed talk.
He hated making the next call, especially at the hour he had to make it. Mike knew that Frank was still mending after his last assignment along the border of Mexico and Arizona.

Frank answered on the first ring; “Wha cha callin me at hour for, Mikey?”

Mike knew immediately that Frank had not been to bed in a while; “I see you’re still up chasing your demons with your best friend Oban. By the way, are the stitches still mending?”

“Mike, you and I both know you didn’t call me – at this hour – to check up on my health, mental or physical. What’s on your mind?”
“Drunk or sober, I can never get anything pas you. I just got off the phone with Brad Higgins. Carol Loftswold was found in a back alley off Second Avenue in the city. It’s really ugly and I knew that you and Bob would want to know and be a part of what’s going down.”

Instantly, Frank sobered; “You damned right we do. We’ll be right over.”

Mike replied while letting Maizie back inside; “Give me a couple of hours and a hot shower; or at least time enough to break the news to Eileen.”

“Okay, Mike; it will take that long for all of us to get ready. We’re bringing everyone: Fast Eddie, Reggie, Niki, Gunter, Stefan and our new guy Rae-Jean.”

They both cut off the call at the same time Mike heard a real soft voice; “Break what to Eileen.” His heart sank to the floor.
Mike looked at Eileen with very sad eyes; “Boy, you’re good at pretending. Brad called just a few minutes ago.”

“Brad from the city? Did he want you to come try one of his new dry fly patterns at White Water River? It’s way too early in the morning for anything else.”

“I only wish it was for that reason. One of h is squads found Carol.’

Eileen nearly missed the chair at the kitchen table as she sat; “Michael Robert Kenney, you’re scaring me. What do you mean by found?”

Mike handed her a cup of the very black coffee with just the right amount of sugar and coffee creamer; “It ain’t pretty, Sweetie.”
“Don’t give me any of your Irish bullshit, Mike. I’m a big girl, so just tell met the details.”

“Here is what I know; one of their squads that prowls Second Avenue found her body in a back alley at the low end of the street. Someone had slit her throat; it was clean and it was quick. From what Brad was saying, she is now in a much better place than where she lived. Apparently, Carol was into some pretty nasty drugs – full blown, and was working the corner at a broken down bar to feed her habit. He also gave me a real brief on crime scene details. They’re the type of details that only cops need to know and not pertinent to who and what Carol was as a person. There is a real creepoid taking out the prostitutes who ply their trade in the area around Second Avenue.”

Eileen’s face turned white and her hands shook to where taking a sip of her coffee was impossible; “Pack your bags, Mike. We’re out of here in five minutes. I’ll call the Marriott from the car.” She hesitated; “What? What else is there, Mike? You’re holding something back.”

“We’re leaving after day light and Brad is insisting that we stay with him and Joanie. Bob and Frank’s crew is coming, too. I’m going to work with them until we get all the details and the person who killed her is either in jail or is chasing his demons in another dimension.”

“I want to go now; so go pack your bags.”

“We both need to clean up, brush our teeth and put on our faces. By that time, Bob and Frank will be knocking on our door. Tell you what; why don’t you jump in the shower and I’ll go dig out our suit cases. We can pack them as soon as we’re done with getting dressed.”

Eileen nodded and started to head toward their bedroom when she stopped; “What do you mean by working with Bob and Frank? Aren’t there jurisdictional issues you have to worry about? Besides you don’t want to be stepping on Brad’s toes.”

“Leenie, you been pestering me to retire. I’ve got nearly twenty-five years in at the P.D. And, you have mentioned several times that you’d like me to step away from all that political BS needed to keep the department running on a day-to-day basis. With this and what Brad said about all the political fall out that’s heading his way, I’m ready. Besides, Bob and Frank have spoken to us for some time about me helping them out on a part time basis – doing what I love, playing cops and robbers.”

Eileen couldn’t help but smile; “You stubborn old Irish fool, it took long enough for you to come to your senses.” She turned as he got close and wrapped her arms around his neck; “Let’s go get ready.”

Eileen was about to step out of her pajama when her cell phone that was still plugged in on the dresser rang. She looked at the caller ID and then the time. It was her sister, Erin. Eileen couldn’t believe that Carol’s mom would already be calling. She knew that Erin must have been woken by someone she knew in the city with the news. Eileen’s knees began to buckle, tears started to dribble and she really didn’t want to talk with her right then. But, she knew she had to; “Hi, Erin. What’s up?”

Between the heart breaking sobs and out-right wailing, Eileen made out; “Leenie, th-th-they f-f-found C-C-Carol. Th-th-the-they’re calling her a whore, Leenie. Mike’s gotta do sumptin about dis…”

Eileen let her run on for five minutes before cutting in as Erin’s slurring and stuttering became worse; “Oh, Erin. I am so sorry about this. Mike just got off the phone with Brad. We’re heading over to the city right now. I’m going to have Mary and Sam stop over. Erin, It’s best if you stay put until we know more.”

“I knew I could count on you and Mike. I just want to see my baby.”

Eileen hung up the phone and slumped on the bed. The phone slipped from her fingers, but Mike who was sitting next to her caught it before it hit the floor. They hugged and Mike let her shed the needed tears.

She finally let go of the tears. Eileen stood, wiped the residual tears from her eyes and told Mike in words that she never used and had banned from the house when their children were in elementary school; “We’re going to find that God-damned son-of-a-bitch and we’re going to cut his balls off. He fucked with the wrong family!”

Mike nearly fell over in shock; because he sworn in front of the most holy of holies and told them that Eileen would never stoop to using such language or to have such thoughts of doing violence against another human being. A smile crossed his lips and he turned away from Eileen heading to the bedroom door while biting his tongue to prevent a laugh from escaping. He did manage to say on the way out the door; “I’ll get the suit cases while you take a shower.”

~ Chapter 3 – Ha Ha Welcome to a New Year ~

Niki slipped behind the steering wheel and nearly screamed in pain as his knees had trouble fitting under the wheel. Frank knew he had forgotten to put the seat back for Niki and his long legs. He made every apology he could. Niki reminded Frank the he was married to Bob’s sister and that this was a daily occurrence.

“Why didn’t you want me driving?” Frank asked; knowing that Niki preferred to let him drive whenever they traveled together.

“This is a new car and I don’t need you wrecking it when you talk on your phone;” he didn’t say any more even though the thought race through his head. He wasn’t accustomed to vocalizing even after Gabby had been getting him to open up.

Frank understood and said what Niki was thinking; “In other words, I do the phoning and you do the acting?”

Niki nodded his head in agreement. For the most part, he said nothing else on the trip to The Barn. He listened to Frank’s end of various phone calls. Frank put his cell phone on speaker mode when he had Big Ed on the other end.

“Ed this case has history for Bob, Vickie and Gabriela. I had Fast Eddie and Reggie doing the preliminary footwork; none of the neighbors saw anything. We have the two rookies, each with several years under Mike Kenney doing the prelim workup and learning everything they can about the Professor Peter Jamison case. This was well before my time. Do you remember Jacques Silva?” Frank was leaning on his old friend, but Big Ed had no qualms about the favor; Frank was like a son to him.

“I remember that real well. It was the year I retired from official and not so official government employment. What’s up?”

Frank felt him out; “Mike found a poem on Bob’s mom that was almost identical to the first one on the Jamison case.”

“I made sure that rotten bastard paid in the most terrible terms possible; Elaine and Monique were good friends and colleagues. He dances with the devil in a much fouler place now. It can’t be him. I personally made sure he would hurt no one every again for the rest of eternity.” Big Ed fumed. Frank sensed the pain and had seen that side of Big Ed only once before and had sworn not to encounter it again.

“We know it’s not the same person. I’d like you to complete a dossier on Professor Jamison with particular attention to protégé’s, children and all relatives. This sounds and looks personal.”

Big Ed volunteered; “I’ll do you one better, Frank. I will find you every detail of his sordid life. By the time, we’re done we are going to know how many diaper changes he had as a baby.” Big Ed gave Frank some additional names of people to call who knew how to access the college crowd and acquire domestic surveillance dossiers from the previous sixty years; “I’ll start with all other aspects of his life, while you and Niki dissect his days as a college professor.”

Big Ed changed concentration and addressed Niki directly; “Niki, I’m sending you some new access codes in an encrypted e-mail. These will open wide the doors to your favorite databases with unrestricted access to all levels. Your Princess Sophia will have a lot of work to do with this case.”

Frank let his guard down for a minute and gave a chuckle. Big Ed asked; “What’s so funny, Frank?”

“I’m just learning about taking my laptop with me when I go out. I for sure haven’t even thought about giving it a name yet.”

“Ah, I forgot, you’re like me more a field person and let everyone else do the reports. I’m sure Niki will help you with your laptop. I think the two of you should lead this one together. I have a hunch about this one. And, if my hunch is just twenty percent correct, this is not going to be pretty.”

Niki added; “You both know that Bob and Gabby are going to insist on being a part of this!”

Frank returned to being all business; “Yes, but we are going to need to be their shield. We don’t want either of them doing something they will regret later on; grief breeds stupidity when it comes time to act. Bob is pretty good when it comes to keeping things under wraps; but this is family.”

Niki confirmed Franks comments; “I agree with Frank. I know Gabby will want to do great harm to who ever did this. Their family is very close and they both are going to be taking this personally for a very – very – long time.”

Big Ed reminded Frank of the past; “I remember how you were when my Betsy went missing and then when you found her in that ally. I know how much you loved her and how much that shredded your soul. You had all those years of intensive training to fall back on. Bob’s and Gabby’s backgrounds are different, so I agree with your assessments. Elaine and I will be out to The Barn later. I’m sure she will be bringing some of her “snacks” along – they’ll be needed.”

The phone call ended as Niki turned into the lane at Hacienda de la Hoya y Sanchez. The Barn was on Frank’s acreage. The car had barely stopped before Frank was out the door and striding to the front door of The Barn. Niki, even though much taller and with much longer legs, had trouble catching up to Frank. He had seen this determination in Frank only a few times before. He thought that this was going to be one of those cases where Frank was going to be all business and the perpetrator may end up being the last victim.

Frank threw open the reluctant front door to The Barn. He hadn’t noticed the bitter cold, walking in only a sweater from car to building. In a stern voice he greeted Lynda and stomped off to the command center. Niki was right behind him. He stopped at Lynda’s desk and let her know what was happening and that all calls should be filtered through Stefan.

The command center was buzzing with activity. The three main viewing screens were loaded with the files of Professor Jamison, his photographs and a “T” chart showing the similarities of the cases. The others around the room were getting live video feeds from Bob’s house and waiting on the live feeds from Reggie’s and Fast Eddie’s web cams. Frank was immediately getting updates on what he was viewing from Ben and Bev.

Niki pulled Stefan aside; “All incoming phone calls and communications is going to be filtered through you. Nothing goes to Bob, Vicky or Gabby until either Frank or I have cleared it first. There is every indication that they all have history with some really painful memories involved. You’ll learn the details soon enough; the ugliness of the Chauncey Roy murders is about to be resurrected.”

Stefan paled; “I quickly scanned the file. I will have to read it more carefully. Mr. Wellington should be landing in Cleveland in about an hour and Mr. Parker should be in California in about five hours. Mr. Parker rigged everything so they can run their web cams while driving and pick up video feeds when they’re not in the cars. In other words, we’ll have instant access to everything as they see and hear it.”

Niki, thought of one more thing as he turned to walk toward Frank; “One more thing Stefan, make sure you feed all new developments to folder “Jan2009” on Princess Sophia’s desktop. I will be checking it often.”

Anxiously nervous and embarrassed for not knowing, Stefan stammered and reverted to his native language; “Er – er, entschuldigan Sie mir bitte. Was ist Colombian Necktie?”

Niki looked at Stefan’s reddening cheeks; “No need to be embarrassed; you’d have no reason to know this term. It got the name from a particular style of execution used extensively by the Colombian drug cartels that flourished in the 1970’s, 80’s and 90’s. At first it was used to send a warning to anybody who even thought about snitching. Then it just became a signature to the rest of the world to never cross them. This is where the assassin deeply slices the victim’s throat and then pulls their tongues out through the hole in the throat leaving it to dangle like a necktie. It is a pretty gruesome experience to see it.”

Stefan was visibly shaken and Niki wanted to ease it just a bit; “Stefan,” Niki slipped his big paw around Stefan’s opposite shoulder; “There is no end to how cruel a man can be to his own kind.”

 

 

~ Thinking Too Much ~

I have been struggling with chapter 03 of “Ha Ha Welcome to a New Year” for over a week now. The thoughts are there and are bouncing off my cranium; but when I put them to words — it’s hard to describe — it’s like my thoughts are dislexic, in written form the words come out jumbled. I believe that is from thinking too much. I need to practice that line from “Finding Forester” that gives a writer comfort – “No, just start writing; thinking comes later.” When a I write a mystery, I generally have a basic outline in mind – I know the beginning and I know the end; my characters generally tell me the path in between. For example, Frank is bagged with numerous personal demons and tends to be very serios; his wife Missy is a photographer and tends to be his stablizing factor. Bob is a college professor and an avid outdoorsman who takes most things in perspective, even when the world serves him a plate of the most sour of lemons. Bob’s wife Vickie is a former crime victim and a medical doctor specializing in Pediatrics. Together they run The Barn, formally known as J0hnson, Ingram Condulting. In reality it is a detective agency and Black Ops consulting firm. There is no crime against humanity that is beyond their scope. When you get the whole mix together, there is no telling where or how the reader is going to be led along the path to solving the crime. The emotions run all the way from the tears of personal trajedy to laughter at a comical (or not so comical) situation and how the characters react to what life deals them. Their friends and associates are spread across the spectrum of life and everyone can relate to at least one of them. Writing this has helped me to continue, and perhaps to leave the frustration behind. I firmly believe that the solution to writing problems is to write, write, write, and then when tired write some more ~ it will all work out.

Writing Prompts

I like writing prompts, timed  writings, and impromptu word doodling. I’m sure there are others likewise have the same interest. I will post one on this page every week. Try your hand. Post your attempt in the comments on the writing prompt page - It does not need to be polished or edited – The whole idea is to get you writing.

For the week beginning Sunday, January 11, 2009 – ” Dusty streets of the small town“.

Chapter 02 ~ Ha Ha Welcome to a New Year

Bob’s sister, Gabriella arrived with her husband, Nikita Borisyenko. Mike handed Frank an Arturo Fuente. They took their time lighting them as they watched Bob walk, dejectedly toward his sister. They both knew the pain, had lived the pain Bob was going through. They both remembered and their tough exteriors melted with empathy toward their friend and colleague.

Mike pulled an evidence envelope from the large pocket of his down parka. He handed it to Frank. Frank read with a puzzled look:

 

The day was grand

Their night was blue,

They died terrible;

Bobby, I found you

                        Christian Roi

 

Frank had to ask; “What is this, Mike.”

Mike let the smoke from the cigar mask the pain etched on his face; “Long before you came along as a brash, wet-behind the ears rookie detective, I was a detective Sergeant under Jacques Silva. A slimy character, Professor Peter Jamison better known as Chauncey Roy skewered his victims with poems. It has been a long time, but I am willing to bet that this is going to be almost word for word on one of those. The reason I say this is that he would sign his with the spelling R-O-I, just like the one you hold. We are keeping this from Bob for now.”

Frank took his time to respond; “You told me about that case a long time ago. Didn’t that professor die?”

Mike didn’t wait to answer; “That’s what I was getting to; Bob made sure that he would be punished by God for the rest of eternity. The other part was that along with other of his female students, Vickie and Bob’s first wife, Beth were his last victims. Jacques died saving Vickie. I hope we can help to keep them from reliving that nightmare, but I fear the impossibility of that task.”

Frank was shaking his head as he replied; “They’re both adults, we can’t hide this from them. As painful as it may be, now would be the best time especially since everyone involved is here. So, let’s go show it to them and then stand back as Niki sets his big frame in motion. He’s going to be on the war path. He will protect all of them even if he has to give his own life in the process.”

“You are right, my friend. I have given out bad news to friends before but nothing like this and nothing with this much history involved. Let’s do it”

The frigid weather of a South Dakota January must have seeped through Bob’s winter clothing, because he shook from head to toe as he read the poem. He held tightly to his sister and wife as they read the poem. Frank had never heard a rash of foul gutter slang spew forth the mouths of females like what passed the lips of Vickie and Gabbie. Niki’s long arms engulfed Gabbie.

Frank’s cell phone rang. He moved away from the group of mourners. None made a move toward the door to the house nor were they about to join Frank. He looked at the display. It was the Barn calling.

“Ingram,” was the only introduction he gave.

He continued to move away. “Frank, this is Stefan. Ben and Bev completed everything in record time. It’s half past noon.” Stefan had standing instructions to follow up when Bob or Frank were late for gathering at the command center.

“Thanks for the reminder. Sorry I’m late. We have a new development. Have those two pull the file on Professor Peter Jamison, aka: Chauncey Roy. Niki and I will be there an hour. I want to know everything down to the style and brand of underpants that son of bitch wore. If you need call Big Ed and have him pull in some favors. Have Fast Eddie and Reggie shown up yet?” Frank gave every inflection necessary to make sure Stefan that this became Priority One for the agency, even though he knew Stefan had cleared everything else off the calendar.

“Consider it done, Frank,” Stefan let him know that was the first file worked on. “Mr. Wellington and Mr. Parker were just sitting down to review the files you request.” He made it more of question than statement.

“Keep pushing the rookies, Stefan. Can you put Mr. Wellington on the phone, please?”

“Hey, Frank. This is already turning out to be a shitty New Year. What do you need?” Fast Eddie, was already taking notes when Frank gave him a list.

“Get a list of every victim and victim’s family that had any encounter with Professor Jamison. Track down the widow and children of former Police Lieutenant, Jacques Silva. I don’t care where they live, you’re on the next plane to visit with the widow and Reggie is heading to see the children. Make sure you hire some locals to keep an eye on them discreetly, use some of Big Ed’s contacts. We want it very discreet.” Frank continued to rattle of details that needed immediate attention.

By the time he pocketed his cell phone everyone but Billy Sumner, his crew and a half dozen cops were inside. He caught up to Mike and Niki; who just stepped through the front door. Niki caught Frank’s eye and instantly knew they were going to be headed out.

“Mike, give us the freedom on this one. I have Fast Eddie and Reggie working on it; Jenn and Luis will be doing the local footwork. Niki and I are going to head to The Barn in a few minutes. Have your two best detectives stop out there once they clear the scene.” Frank intensity wasn’t lost on Mike.

“I already told them to provide you copies of everything that we get. I’ll have them out there this afternoon and so will I.” Mike was one of the invited participants at Frank and Missy’s New Years Day event; he continued, “Eileen will be bringing some New Year treats for us later today. Ever since I left the house, she has been preparing a feast for everyone. She even called a few neighbors to help her.”

“I know it goes without saying, she will be bring some over here…” Frank never finished his statement.

Niki interrupted; “Frank, you and I are leaving now. Mike when you can break free follow us out to The Barn. And, Missy is going to bring everyone else after the initial shock wears off.”

“Niki, we don’t expect them to come. They have more important things to attend to right now.” Frank tried to convince him to tell the others.

“You know better than anybody, Frank. Bob’s not going to let this sit idle. He’s going to be wanting a piece of whoever did this…and, do you really think Gabbie is going to be any different?”

Frank’s look into Niki’s eyes shared every exposed nerve they all had; “Okay, hand me your keys and I’ll get the car started.

Living with Ménière’s disease

About a year ago, I was diagnosed with Meniere’s disease. That was the date of diagnosis; it began a long time before that happened. After doing a bit of research, I found that I have been living with it for a much longer period of time, like thirty years. Meniere’s disease is an affliction of the inner ear and there is no cure.  As my E.N.T. told me it is basically excess fluid in the inner ear that has no way to escape.

 

 

Ménière’s is an abnormality of the inner ear causing a host of symptoms, including vertigo or severe dizziness, tinnitus or a roaring sound in the ears, fluctuating hearing loss, and the sensation of pressure or pain in the affected ear. The disorder usually affects only one ear and is a common cause of hearing loss. Named after French physician Prosper Ménière who first described the syndrome in 1861.

 

 

I’m inflicted in both ears. For me, it started when I was 28 years old. That is when I first got a buzzing sound that wouldn’t go away. Then I could no longer ride those fair rides I loved the most, the Tilt-A-Whirl, the Octopus, and other rides that spin or dip. My hearing started to deteriorate about then, too.

 

 

About, ten years ago I encountered my first bout with the episodes of vertigo. For those of you who have ever ridden on a Tilt-A-Whirl or Octopus multiply the spin by 5 to 10 times the rotational velocity and that is what an episode feels like. The spinning sensation keeps getting worse until you get a dose of Valium or other medicine that can stop the spin. Until then, expect to also experience projectile vomiting.

 

 

Almost as bad as an episode can be, the after effects are almost as nasty. Last night, I had an episode. Luckily I took something before it became too bad. This morning, emanating from the very center top of my head I am experiencing a head-ache the size of Africa.

 

 

The reason I write this is for those of you in your twenties and thirties who experience ear buzzing or have a sudden onset of dizziness for the first time. Go see your physician or an Ear, Nose and Throat specialist. I am 59 for another few months, and the episodes are increasing in frequency. This has an effect on my entire life, my writing, my photography and my walks in the country that I enjoy so much. I have learned to keep it under control and when I need to listen to my body. I can no longer push that envelope of hiking in the wilderness alone or driving long distances alone. When I got my first episode the doc. told me that it was benign positional vertigo; so I wasn’t able to get the help needed to learn how to live with this.

Chapter 01 ~ Ha Ha Welcome to a New Year

The sun hid behind a blanket of gray with more than a hint that winter was going to blast the prairie with sub-zero temperatures. Frank gazed out from behind triple-pane glass looking at acres of snow dotted with bungee spikes of broken corn stalks poking through the white surface. He let his mind drift back to a similar New Years morning many years previous, when he was in high school. His best friend and the girl he intended to marry as soon as he got out of basic training with the Army had her head nestled in his shoulder; but on that occasion they were standing outside and everything seemed warm and right with the world.

 

A smile crossed his lips when he thought about those moments, those precious moments now lost to time and tragedy. He clung to them like an old familiar blanket that one cuddles into on a cold winter’s night in South Dakota. He remembered every look and nuance her face took on that cold morning. He even remembered the smell of her perfume that had just a trace of lilac their favorite spring flower. He let his memories carry him away. Ever since the day Marty abducted her, Frank had been fighting personal demons. On New Years morning, he always liked to run home to Betsy to start the new year off with a sense of comfort.

 

That comfort came crashing down around his ears when Missy eased her arm around Frank’s waist and asked if he was visiting Betsy. She knew he was, because she did the same thing from time to time. She always let Frank take this trip, alone, with his cup of coffee, in front of the window on New Years morning. She never disturbed him before that morning. Frank knew that the gentle touch of his second love would have a not so gentle consequence.

 

Frank turned to Missy and instantly knew something terrible had occurred when she threw her other arm around him and buried her face in his chest. Her chest was still heaving with the left overs of a good cry. He knew to let her have the moment; so he carefully stroked her auburn hair. When the gasps for air quieted, he led her to the couch near the fireplace that was crackling with a warming blaze.

 

Missy looked up and Frank saw the crimson in her eyes set off by a determination for revenge he had never seen in them before. He instantly knew that this was not going to be their typical New Years day celebration, that usually included having their best friends over to watch bowl games and what ever they decided that they wanted to do.

 

It was Frank’s turn to have his face flushed white with nearly all his blood supply sinking to his feet after Missy told him that the day’s events were summarily cancelled by some creep with a personal vengeance against their friends. Missy let Frank know that Bob and Vicky Johnson found Bob’s parents displayed in the snow, in their front yard (twenty-three miles from the parents home) wearing crimson halos.

 

The very thought of someone doing that to two of the nicest people he had ever met sent shivers coursing down his back until his entire body quaked with a queasy sick feeling. A feeling of helpless, hate enveloped Frank as he stood. Without a word he stomped over to the coat rack Missy was right on his heels. As they jumped into Missy’s FJ Cruiser, they thought they heard a scratchy voice laughing; “Ha, ha, ha Happy New Year.”

 

A cold shiver ran through Frank and Missy as they drove into Sioux Falls from Hacienda de la Hoya y Sanchez, their acreage named after Frank’s mother. The shiver wasn’t from the frigid temperatures; Frank had a nagging premonition – a gut feeling. The bold and rash nature of the crime pointed to Bob’s past before they knew each other. He remembered the grizzly crimes Bob solved that Mike Kenney described when his was Frank’s captain on the detective squad. Down to a person, everyone Bob found who committed those crimes were evil spawn. Bob was a magnet for the worst of the worst and that really hadn’t changed a whole lot since their friendship and partnership began.

 

Frank punched the button on the steering wheel for the Blue Tooth; “Call – Office.”

 

In his left ear, Frank heard; “Johnson and Ingram Consulting.”

 

Frank was friendly but all business; “Good morning, Lynda. I need to speak with Stefan; it’s urgent.”

 

Lynda, like Frank, was friendly but all business when she replied; “Happy New Year, Mr. Ingram. I will get him right away.”

 

Stefan was on the other end within ten seconds; “Hi, Frank. Everything is developing rather fast at Bob’s house. I have Fast Eddie and Reggie working with the police and they are developing leads right now. Are you at Bob’s yet?”

 

Frank got a smile on his face for a second when he thought how efficient Stefan was in getting it organized quickly; “Thanks for getting everything going. You know those two detectives we stole from Mike, oh about a week ago?”

 

Before Frank had finished the sentence, Stefan was getting their dossiers from the database; “Yes, you must be speaking of Ben Three Horses and Beverly Talbot. I have their files here. What do you need?”

 

Frank again had a reason for a brief but quickly fading smile; “Those are the ones. We don’t have them working on anything real important right now, do we?”

 

“No, sir; they’re barely getting their feet wet. Bev mentioned that she was already sick of grunt work.”

 

Bob’s knack for finding the best never ceased to amaze Frank; “Well, I have some very important grunt work for them. I don’t want anyone else to help them; but I need them to start yesterday. I want a concise synopsis with personal comments from both on every case that Bob worked on before the Sogstad murder. I need that by noon today.”

 

Missy turned ashen when Frank mentioned the murder of Frank’s first love and her best friend, Betsy. The shiver she had been experiencing racked her small frame with involuntary convulsions. She felt lucky that Frank was looking out the driver’s side window.

 

Stefan was already accessing those case files when he answered; “You’re in luck they both got here ten minutes ago. They will have all the files within two minutes. Is there anything specific that would cause you to request this?”

 

“Nothing more than a gut feeling, Stefan, I just have a suspicion.”

 

Stefan smiled when he answered; “I’ll take your hunch any day over most peoples facts. How do you want me to get you those files?

 

“Just have them loaded on those big screens you have hanging all over the command center. I’ll be there by noon. Make sure Ben and Bev are there; I may want to pick their brains.”

 

“Frank, you let Bob know that everyone here will do whatever to catch the creep who did this. There isn’t a person from that agency I haven’t heard from and each is drooling to get their hands on this.”

 

“Thanks, Stefan, I’ll let Bob and Vickie know.”

 

Frank terminated the call. At the speed he was driving, they would be at Bob’s house in five minutes. Missy could see that Frank’s mind was bending around something. She knew that usually produced some very good results.

 

Missy had to ask; “What’s going on, Franky? I haven’t seen you this focus in a long time.”

 

“I had a hunch that who ever did this was one of the evil creeps from Bob’s past cases. But, there is something that is nagging that is just on the fringes. I’m sure those files will have a lot to tell.”

 

Frank and Missy stopped next to Mike’s car and were let through the yellow tape. Missy was embracing Vickie while Frank spoke in private with Mike and Bob.

Chapter 00 ~ Prologue

Staying up until midnight on New Years Eve was not important to Bob and Vickie. What was important always happened on the day after; it was the gathering at Hacienda de la Hoya y Sanchez, the home of their best friends Frank and Melissa Ingram. As Bob always told any one willing to listen; he had no interest in going out in the middle of winter in South Dakota on icy roads on the biggest amateur night of the year for those who rarely drank alcoholic beverages.

They went to bed early and after an hour of passion, Vickie slipped into a comfortable sleep with what Bob called gum-drop and cotton candy dreams. On the other side of the bed, sleep was elusive and the dreams were anything but pleasant. Bob couldn’t place his restlessness. He didn’t have a cold, the flu or feeling sick in any way. He wasn’t worried about any case he and Frank were working; they were currently between cases. He tossed and turned until Vickie kicked him out of bed by telling him to go get coffee ready.

The morning sun was just turning the eastern horizon on fire with typical mid-winter reds, oranges and yellows. Bob stopped momentarily outside his front door to take in the sunrise. Even though the raw temperature was in the double digits below zero on the Fahrenheit scale and he didn’t have on a coat, he wasn’t worried because a minute or two would not freeze him, besides he was only getting the morning newspaper off the front deck.

As he bent over to pick up the paper, Bob notice something unusual lying on the snow in his front yard. He got an unnatural chill that coursed from the base of his neck down to his toes. He instinctively knew that what he saw was two human bodies, one male, and one female. It was still before the sun peeked over the edge of the earth and the shadows dark enough, he wasn’t able to distinguish much more than there were two people lying motionless in the bitter cold of a South Dakota winter in his yard.

Bob grabbed the paper from the deck and hurried into the house. He tossed the paper half way across the house, where his perfect aim landed it with a loud thud on the kitchen table. He ran to the table where they kept their phones plugged in and pulled the first one he could grab. After hanging up from 9-1-1 reporting the situation, Bob used his speed dial where Detective Captain Mike Kenney was #5 on the key pad.

He was waiting for Mike to answer when he got to the bedroom. Bob was mumbling under his breath hoping to convince Mike the need to answer was more important than his morning coffee. Vickie came out of the bathroom rubbing her washed hair with a bath towel. She asked Bob what was wrong at the same moment Mike answered Bob’s call.

Bob held up the index finger on his right hand, letting Vickie know that he would talk to her as soon as he got off the phone. He told Mike what was in his front yard and as she ease-dropped, her bottom jaw dropped open. She stood in the middle of the bedroom holding the towel to her head, no longer rubbing her hair, in stunned silence.

After getting off the phone with Mike, Bob told Vickie what he saw when he went out to get the morning paper. All the while he was throwing on a pair of jeans, a sweat shirt and his boots. He didn’t bother with socks. By the time he got done, Bob heard the sirens stop outside his house. Vickie hurried to get dressed and to join Bob. She twisted her damp hair on top of her head and she secured it with a heavy woolen watch cap. She ran to the front door, which was still ajar from Bob running out knowing that she would be right behind him.

Vickie got to the deck steps leading to the walk way just as Bob slumped and dropped in the sitting position on the cold crusty snow. His face was as white as the frost on the trees and bushes. She ran to him. She never bothered to look at the bodies lying at attention on the ground. She didn’t see the halos of blood billowing around the heads.

When she got to Bob, he was muttering incoherently about something. She couldn’t make it out. Bob knew he was making no sense. He slowly and deliberately raised his left arm and pointed with one of his fingers at the bodies. Tears slid out of his eyes and froze to his cheeks within seconds. She couldn’t understand what the problem was.

Vickie followed the direction Bob’s arm was pointing with only her eyes. She was afraid to move, based on the shell that was her husband. She had never seen him so shaken before. Her eyes tried to focus the ten yards beyond his finger, but there were too many flashing lights and police officers. She saw Bob moving his arm indicating that she needed to stay where she was. She had seen her share of crime scene and started to shakily move toward the action. In a sudden burst, Bob leaped up and held her tight, keeping her from going anywhere.

Bob knew he had to tell her and not let her see what he had seen. He slowly led her back to their front deck and away from the action. He urged her to sit on the step with him. As soon as he got settled, Mike walked up to them. Mike had not stopped at the scene being worked before greeting to Bob and Vickie. He noticed how ashen Bob was.

Before Mike could say anything or ask anything, Bob blurted out: “It’s my parents. It’s Mom and Dad. Mike someone is sending me a message.”

Mike asked Bob; “Why do you say that?”

Bob stuttered; “M – M – Mike, they’re wearing Columbian neckties!” With that Bob nearly collapsed in Vickie’s arms. Vickie looked at Mike with a puzzled look, not knowing what a Columbian necktie was. And, Mike was not about to tell her.

Doodlings from the Prairie

Doodlings is broken down into the different area where my mind roams. Primarily, I like to doodle with words and visions. I have broken them down by pages.

Ramblings about writing go to http://scotthhendricks.wordpress.com/writing-thoughts-ideas-et-ceteras/

For my sucesses in photographic visions go to http://scotthhendricks.wordpress.com/photography/

Take a look at the top for the individual pages. I am currently working on a mystery novel with a working title of Ha Ha Welcome to the New Year. Go take a look under my mystery novels.

Don’t forget to drop me a note to let me know what you think.

Hello world!

Thanks to my friend Tim, I moved over to World Press from the Google site which I really didn’t care for all that much. I am a writer and photographer. I like to paint pictures with words and tell stories with my pictures. I am also a respected amateur genealogist on several different Hendricks/Hendrix families.

 My writing can be categorized into two separate genres, mystery novels and historical novels and my photography tends toward the natural world of sunsets, sunrises, cityscapes, landscapes and wildlife. Sometimes it is hard to tell where my writing and photography differ. At other times I like to show how man is innately different than what you find in nature and how at times much more vicious and unpredictable. I will be posting pictures, stories, ramblings about writing and photography as well as useful information about both.

Thanks for visiting,

Scott