A Grave Mistake
An early arrival
A bell in the air.
The sound that tremors
A frightening stare.
His paperwork done.
Cup of java for fun.
It's time to do his morning
Run.
He checked every grave, every plate.
He checked every statue, every entry gate.
He noticed a bag on bench near a grave.
Not a person in site, but words were engraved.
"Here lie Kathrine Moody, a very short lived life"
It ended " If she hadn't cheated, she would've made a good wife!"
He noticed the ending was freshly done.
He grabbed the bag, checked the gate and continued on
his run .
The next morning, the same routine but this time he saw a hat with a bullet hole on the brim.
On the stone it read, "I'm sorry for killing you honey, I meant to kill him!"
He grabbed the hat, locked the gate, and went back to start his day.
He put on that hat, grabbed his coat and slowly walked away.
The End
Colors
I fall asleep.
I see wondrous clouds
with wondrous colors-
the lightest pink
like the slightest blush
that flushes
one's cheeks.
a lavender
that seems to be far, far away
dreamy, pensive.
a gentle, airy blue,
the loveliest yellow hue
all blending together
like one.
those clouds are of the softest colors-
They are of the softest colors.
When It Happened
I
I never knew
I would fall in love again.
I never knew
I could feel this way again.
A world of possibilities
opened up to me,
falling like stars,
soaking into my soul.
I never knew
you loved me from the start.
I never knew
you were my destiny.
A single monent,
a single word,
changed everything,
falling like stars.
Now I know,
what you always knew.
Is It Fact, Legend or Myth
This you have seen as part of my background at time.
This Pueblo is situated just outside Colorado Springs city limits.
Not very far from there are also underground caverns worth exploring.
This the final photo change I will be making.
The Garden of the Gods.
Located in Colorado Springs, Colorado is a sprawling 240 acres of pure heaven.
About 250 million years ago, Garden of the Gods had sandy beaches and an inland sea. The 300 foot orange sandstone rocks in the Garden of the Gods were once sand dunes. Over time, the softer rocks eroded and valleys were created leaving harder rocks standing as the tall ridges in the Park.
Back in 1859, when a surveyor named Rufus Cable first saw the towering fins of rock jutting over 300 feet into the air near Pikes Peak, he enthusiastically declared that it was “A fit place for the gods to assemble!” From this excited outburst came the name Garden of the Gods.
There is another story how the Gardens received its name. Joseph Beach, suggested that it would be a “capital place for a beer garden”. His companion, a young Rufus Cable, awestruck by the impressive rock formations, exclaimed, “Beer Garden! Why, it is a fit place for the Gods to assemble. We will call it the Garden of the Gods.”
Founded originally by Gen. William Jackson Palmer, who founded the city of Colorado Springs, convinced a friend of his, Charles Elliott Perkins, to buy 240 acres of land known as the Garden of the Gods.
In 1879 Charles Elliott Perkins, purchased 480 acres of land that included a portion of the present day Garden of the Gods. Upon Perkins’ death, his family gave the land to the City of Colorado Springs in 1909, with the provision that it would be a free public park.
Today, The Garden of the Gods Park is a registered National Natural Landmark in Colorado Springs.
The rocks themselves are conglomerates of red, pink, and white sandstone and limestone.
They are geologically remarkable due to their vertical and in some cases beyond vertical positions, some as tall as 300 - 500 feet. If you look at the above photo, you can see a few just to the right of center.
One of the most interesting things you will find there, are the faces embedded into the rocks. No, not real faces, but the imagery is there, and interestingly enough, they
resemble an American Indian, and this is where what I am about to explain, so you can decide for yourself if it is fact, myth, or legend.
On any clear blue sky day, you can walk around, take photos, and simply marvel at the varied structures. You may even find rock climbers there.
But on any clear blue sky day, you will also see beautiful white puffy clouds. And this is about clouds.
They say if you see a cloud appear out of nowhere and then disappear as suddenly as it appeared, it is one of the Indians, who at one time either lived on the land or in some form were associated with the land. Apache, Cheyenne, Comanche, Kiowa, Lakota, Pawnee, Shoshone, and Ute Nations had passed through the Garden of the Gods at some point in time. Perhaps an overnight encampment, a tempoary village, no one really knows for certain.
But it is said the clouds that appear and disappear, are ghosts of those who passed through and watch over the land to make sure it remains healthy and pure. It has also been claimed that anyone who defaces any part of the Garden of the Gods, seemingly meets with some form of disaster for their reckless actions, but that too, is difficult to prove.
As I write this, I can say from personal experience, I have witnessed six different clouds (and let me expand slightly, they are more like puffs of smoke than clouds but they look like small clouds), appear from nowhere, and disappear to somewhere. They last but a few seconds and are gone. Eerie? Interesting? Strange? Fact? Myth, or Legend?
But don’t take my word on this alone. Visit the Garden of the Gods one day when you take a vacation and find out for yourself. Admission is free and so is the parking.
Oh, and don’t forget to bring your camera, or make sure your cell phone is charged.
You will take a grip of pictures.
As an added plus to all this, Pike’s Peak isn’t all that far away.
Book One: Part II: Random Evil - Chapter Two
Baker’s Office – 1:45 p.m.
Baker received a call from the Lab. Only three sets of prints were found. Ed’s, the man who delivered the box, Nathan Quillary, and herself.
He’s back.
“Of all the damn times for him to surface. Thank goodness the Captain does have my back. But now, do I keep Stevie, or send him home where I know he’ll be safe. Dammit all!”
2:09 p.m.
A memo was put in each of her team members inbox that the ‘Saint Peter’s Church Killer’, a phrase turned out by the media, was back.
Baker wouldn’t tell Stevie, but the day after Christmas, she was going to send him back home. She tried to call his father, but he never returned any of the thirteen messages she left. Either he’s ignoring her, or holiday shopping for his lover? Other half? It was still difficult after all this time to wrap her head around the fact he’s gay. Significant other was how he put it.
Maybe he can get out of whatever mode he is in and return her calls. Our son’s life is in danger, again.
My job puts him in danger, she thought. If I delivered the morning paper door-to-door, who would want to kill a newspaper delivery person? Grimacing, she remembered last year; two delivery boys were injured during separate robberies.
Baker called Stevie at home.
Two rings.
“Baker residence. Stevie speaking.”
“Hi, Stevie. Look, I’m leaving in twenty, so be ready when I honk the horn.”
“Okay. Movie, pizza, and then we come home and unwrap our presents!”
“And guess what? You have some extra presents, too. The guys down here bought you some things.”
“That’s awesome, mom! See you soon. I love you!”
Me too, Stevie. Me too.
Radisson Inn – 20 Miles South of Buffalo
Monday Night – December 24th – 10:58 p.m.
“It’s nice to know I’m not the only one who gets lonely during the holidays. I mean it’s one thing if you’re on opposite side of the country and can’t be there with family, like my parents and sister. At least I did get to talk to them today and wish them a Merry Christmas, but it still isn’t the same as being there. You know?
“Then there are those times when you’re in and out of a relationship at this time of the year. It just brings you down when you’re alone. You know?
“But hey, we got lucky tonight, I guess. Maybe fortunate is a better word. But, well, Merry Christmas, Claire.”
She turned after reaching into her purse and held a Smith & Wesson .38.
Stan’s eyes became big as saucers.
“Is this a joke? Did you come to my room just to rob me? On Christmas Eve?”
“No and shut your mouth. I didn’t come here to rob you. I came here to kill you. Sit in that chair. NOW!”
Stan began to sweat. She said she was going to kill him. Day after tomorrow he had an audition at Summer’s Music Hall. He wasn’t going to get the part in the play.
He felt handcuffs around his wrists, then duct tape was wrapped around his face covering his mouth. Claire bent down in front of him and duct taped each ankle to the heavyset chair.
Then the real horror began.
She reached inside her purse again, and in her left hand, she extracted a barber’s straight razor.
“You won’t be very pretty after tonight, Stan. I’m going to fix that once and for all.
“Did you know I auditioned once and was told I wasn’t beautiful enough? They gave that role to Julia Roberts. Don’t you agree I am far more beautiful that she is?
“If I could have, I would have sliced her face off!”
She stepped closer with the straight razor.
Stan nodded his head up and down in agreement with her. It was all he could do.
Stan’s entire body was soaked in sweat, and his urine let go some time ago, making a small puddle before evaporating into the carpet.
“I knew you would agree. Let me show you something else, Stan.”
She put the straight razor down on a small table and then lifted her one-piece dress over her head. She was completely naked.
“There. Don’t you agree I have a beautiful body? You wanted to fuck this body, didn’t you?”
Again, all Stan could do was nod his head. His heart was trip-hammering. Every inch of his being was trembling.
“LIAR! You don’t want me! You never wanted me! You bastard! I will fix you for this!”
She reached over and grabbed the straight razor.
“This will hurt you more than it will me. Try to get used to it. I already am.”
That was when Stan screamed behind the duct tape as she started slicing layer upon layer of his face away. Each new upward cut caused more muffled cries of pain. Blood dripped down his shirt.
Claire continued until his face was left skinless. Then she tilted his head back and sliced deeply, left to right. Stan didn’t make any more noises.
Baker’s Townhouse
December 24th – 11:59 p.m.
“Merry Christmas, Stevie.”
“Merry Christmas, mom. This is probably the best Christmas yet. We got to be together for everything, and no phone calls, and no dead bodies. That’s neat. It’s just us.”
“I wish it could be this way all the time.”
“Oh, it’s cool mom. I understand, you know I do. Some days are better than other’s and this day was one of them.
“Thanks for all the presents. Tomorrow, maybe, we can play Spell Bounder and Raven Quest.”
She grinned.
“Maybe. Now close those eyes and get some sleep. See you in the morning.”
She walked out of his room, closed the door, and smiled on the way to her room.
Then her phone rang.
“Baker.”
“No need to try to get this call traced, sweet Janis. I won’t be there, but rest assured, neither will there be any bodies lying about.”
“Who are you? Why did you return the body parts? Why are you killing people?”
“Janis, Janis, sweet Janis. So many questions I will give no answers to. I only called to wish you a Merry Christmas and may the coming year be a much better one than this one. If we weren’t on opposite sides, I would certainly enjoy your company. As it stands, one day I’m afraid I will have to kill you. Then, your son. Then that waste for a human being who pretends to be a father. Oh, let me see; I believe his name is Mark. Isn’t that correct?”
Baker’s breathing deepened. How did he know about Mark?
“I can already smell your fear, Janis. But not too worry for now. I have no immediate plans. The future hasn’t played itself out just yet the way I want. All in good time, sweet Janis. Until then, I will pray for you. Pray that you won’t be killed until I have you in my grasp.
“Give my best to Stevie and Mark. Bye-bye sweet Janis.”
There was silence as Baker stared at her cell phone. She called her cell provider and requested to speak with a supervisor.
“My name is Lieutenant Janis Baker, Twenty-Second Precinct in Montie, New York. My transaction number is ACT-125-57-90-OKY. I want the last call I received traced and an exact location. I will hold.”
While waiting, on her landline, she called Ed.
“Merry Christmas, Ed. Did the Steelers win?”
“That they did, by fourteen. Merry Christmas to you, too. But this isn’t a social call, is it?”
“No. Our boy is back again. He just got off the line with me. I have the phone company putting a last call trace on it as we speak.”
“All right. I’m already half-dressed. I can be there in twenty. Pick you up and we can go from there.”
“I’d rather not leave Stevie alone tonight.”
“It’s okay, mom. I’ll just lock up and won’t let anyone in that doesn’t look like you.” Stevie smiled and yawned at the same time.
“You know, Baker; he’s a cop in the making.”
“Don’t I know it. See you shortly.”
Hanging the landline up; the supervisor spoke up.
“The location is 19th and Murrate in Montie. However, it is a payphone.”
“Thanks.” She closed her cell phone, looked at Stevie, blew him a kiss and waved him back to bed.
“Not until you’re out the door, mom.”
“I’m not going anywhere tonight.”
She then called the Forensic Lab.
“Hi, Gloria. This is Baker. Do me a favor and send a couple guys to 19th and Murrate to dust for prints on a payphone.”
She redialed Ed on the landline.
“I know. Doesn’t matter how many prints they find. I want the results on my desk by the twenty-sixth. Thanks.”
“Hello.”
Closing the cell down again, she said, “Ed? Do me a favor. Instead of coming here, just meet a couple guys from the lab at 19th and Murrate. It’s a payphone. Sorry about this, really.”
“No big deal, Baker. It’s won’t take long. I’ll be back in bed in no time. Hold the fort down there; try to get some rest. I’m pretty sure I can handle a big, bad payphone. See you Wednesday.”
“Thanks, Ed. See you then.”
Stevie was still standing in the living room rubbing his eyes.
“Go back to sleep. Mom is staying home tonight.”
He grinned sheepishly, turned around and went back to bed, and was under the covers and asleep within a minute.
Baker stood next to the bed looking down on her little man.
He was one blessing in her life she would never lose.
Crosstown – A Family Home
December 25th - Tuesday – 9:00 a.m.
Jarrod Hempler, for better or worse, was just your average sixteen-year old boy. He was going through those teenage years of growth and maturity. Almost six-foot, and still growing, acne splotched all over his face, he wasn’t likely to be seen with any high-school girls at any Friday night dance anytime soon.
Jarrod is considered an exceptional student: a Brainiac. Lately, he wasn’t feeling too much in the brains department. He was feeling sad. His own self-esteem level dropped. His parents were on him about not wanting to mingle with the other kids in school.
“Interaction is important,” his mother would say.
“How do you expect to maintain friendships when you don’t even try?” his father would say, but to Jarrod, those things sounded like demands, commands, and it was truly pissing him off.
The kids at school wouldn’t associate with him unless they needed his help for schoolwork, or tests. Jarrod wasn’t an athlete, he wasn’t good-looking, but he was the brunt of their behind-his-back jokes.
That would change.
This Christmas morning, he was the first one awake. He was fully dressed as he walked past the fake holiday tree with unopened presents lying about, and he headed out to the shed in the backyard where his father keeps all of his hunting supplies, as well as other “special memento’s” as he father would say from his days in Vietnam.
It was easy to get into. A tumbler lock. His father trusted him enough to let him have the combination and was often asked to come out here to bring something to his father.
Opening the door, he flipped on the switch and the inside was illuminated with three overhead fluorescent bars of light.
On one wall were three crossbows and one-hundred four-point tipped arrows.
Jarrod walked right past them. He had something much better in mind.
On another wall display were an AR-15, an M-14, and two pearl-handed, nickel-plated .45’s. Below each were four boxes of ammo for the handguns, and six clips for the rifles. Under the table there was a box filled with two dozen grenades. Then he spotted a Beretta .457 with a silencer attachment. There was only one clip for that one, but Jarrod knew he wouldn’t need the whole clip for what he was planning.
He decided to use that one first, just not today. He had a better day in mind.
He smiled, turned around, shut off the lights, relocked the shed and went inside the house in time to hear his mother say, “Jarrod, come into the living room. It’s time we opened our gifts to each other.”
“Yes, mother. I’m coming.”
There sat his mother, sitting sideways on the floor next to the gifts, and his father in his favorite recliner, smoking his silly little pipe.
His self-esteem kicked back into gear.
Baker’s Townhouse – 9:55 a.m.
“Thank you for returning my calls, Mark.”
“So what’s the problem this time?”
“Look, Stevie doesn’t know what I want to do just yet, but I think it’s best if he came back home to you for now; for the same reasons as before. Only this time could be worse.”
“How much worse, Jan? What’s going on?”
Although they have been divorced a while, hearing him use her first name, still tugged at her heartstrings.
“The one the press dubbed as the Saint Peter’s Church Killer, is back. To make this officially worse, Mark, he knows your name. I think he may also know where you live.”
“Maybe it would be safer if he stays with you. Then again, maybe not. Hell, go ahead and send him back. School isn’t back in session until the second. So when, tomorrow? Or sometime over the weekend?”
“Let’s shoot for day after tomorrow, Friday. I do have my house under surveillance. Remember the Beauty Killer? She might make her way back here as well.”
“Jesus, Jan. That insane witch nearly killed you. Please, be careful. Call me when you know when he’ll land at the airport. Can I talk with him for a little while? I promise not to mention any of this to him. He’d rather hear it from you.”
“True. Hold on, and thanks, Mark. Oh, and Merry Christmas.”
Holding the phone against her thigh, she yelled for Stevie, and he came bounding out of his bedroom saying, “Mom, you have to try these new games with me. They are just too awesome!”
“It’s your dad.” She handed him the phone and walked into his room, staring at the video game.
“Hey, dad! Merry Christmas. What? Oh yeah. Things are great here, never better. Mom’s learning how to play Mortal Kombat 6, and ….”
Lady D’s Nightclub
December 25th – 10:45 p.m.
Claire had been sitting on the same barstool over two hours, nursing three drinks during that time.
She hated holidays. It reeks of all that glad-tidings crap. She had had hopes of seeing someone tonight she could enjoy herself with, but the holidays kept most of the customers away.
“Hey sweets, I’m going to close early tonight. If you look around, you and I are the only ones here. So do me a flavor and drink up and drive home safely.”
Claire looked the woman over a little closer. She was a pretty girl, maybe around thirty, tops. A tad on the chubby side, but nothing really disgusting. Claire could do her easily enough.
“I think I can manage the drive home part, but home is over three-thousand miles from here. I don’t think I could get back there tonight.”
“Oh. Where from, then?”
“Seattle. I came out here to get out from under a bad relationship with a girl after six years.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” The bartender placed her hands over both of Claire’s. “Where are you staying for now?”
“I’m at the Ryan Inn, just up the street from here.”
“Mmmm. You know that’s an adult motel, right?”
Claire smiled and winked.
“Forgive my manners. My name is Cyndie.” She stuck out her hand and was pleasantly pleased when Claire traced her fingers over her hand.
“I’m Claire. I have a rental parked in the lot. I can wait there until you close. Then you can either follow me over, or just drive over with me. We could worry about your car in the morning.”
“I’ll just follow you.”
Claire stood, and leaned across the bar. Cyndie leaned forward as well. Both gave each other a lingering kiss that promised so much more.
A Haiku in 4 Parts
Technology – Part I
When time first began,
the elements told us all.
Now, it’s computers.
Technology – Part II
The moon, sun and stars,
gave life direction, meaning.
Cell phones do it all.
Technology – Part III
Family, friends, and work,
gave reason for a future;
control, alt, delete.
Technology – Part IV
That does not compute.
I repeat – does not compute.
It does not compute….
__________
Written during the Fall of 2002
Book One: Part II: Random Evil - Chapter One
Of two evils the less is always to be chosen. —Thomas à Kempis:
Imitation of Christ, book ii. chapter xii.
Richard Hooker: Polity, book v. chap. lxxxi.
So, don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries.
Today’s trouble is enough for today. Matthew 7:34
Sometimes you flip a coin.
I made my choices long ago.
My today, and all of my tomorrows,
mean nothing; compared to all my yesterdays.
Heads, I win. Tails, I win.
Freddy
____________
Excerpt
“I’m sending Stevie back home Saturday. I don’t want him here if she gets close. And, I don’t want any of our guys to get caught unaware. Remember what happened last time?”
Ed didn’t say a word.
She walked toward the Captain’s office, opened, and closed his door, and started telling him what she told Ed.
If you were on the other side of that glass such as Ed, Rodgers, Adams, Saul, and a few others; you could hear the muffled voice of Captain Todd as he waved his arms about, arguing his case for her protection.
Captain Todd gave in, but with one stipulation. The surveillance would last until Monday night.
Prelude:
The Holidays
Snow on the ground, a chill in the air, trees blanketed with soft white, and the streets are bare of movement on the Sunday night before Christmas Eve.
Janis Baker and her son, Stevie, have just finished wrapping each other’s gifts and placed them under the tree filled with lights, shiny glass balls of various colors, shapes, and designs; and covered lightly, but with splendor, what Janis’ father always called angel hair; tinsel. And of course, no tree is complete without an angel on top.
The tree stood in front of her living room window, and with the backdrop from outside; it gave the tree that holiday festive look found on a postcard. Cozy. Warm.
Janis was so happy to have Stevie back with her.
Since what took place a few months ago, things seemed to return back its normal state; without serial killers threatening her or endangering her son.
Speaking of which, “Mom, I’ve been wanting to ask you the last couple of days about that guy last spring. Did you guys catch him? You never said anything.”
Baker shuddered slightly.
“No, we never did, and if he’s still around, he’s stopped killing. My guess is that he’s moved on. The case is still open, and we still review it daily, looking for any clue we can to find out who he is and nail him. So far, we have nothing.”
Stevie hugged her.
“I know you, mom. You’ll get him one day.”
Changing the subject, he exclaimed, “Okay, mom. You promised, remember? Charlie Brown’s Christmas!”
“How could I forget,” she smiled. “I keep my promises. The DVD is already in the player. Popcorn first, then to the movie we go!”
“I’ll make the popcorn, mom, and and‒‒” the phone rang.
They looked at each other.
Stevie broke the silence after the second ring.
“Go on, mom. I’ll make the popcorn.” Stevie winked and grinned at her.
What a boy, she thought. In the middle of the third ring, she answered.
“This is Baker.”
“Merry Christmas, Baker.”
The tension left her when she recognized the voice.
“Merry Christmas, Ed. This is a social call, I hope.”
“Yes and no. One thing though; no bodies.”
Her breath hitched, and she briefly looked over at Stevie as he was microwaving the popcorn, waiting for the bag to bulge.
“Talk to me, then. What have you got for me?”
“Our Beauty Killer is back.”
“What? How?”
“Two nights ago, she escaped from the mental ward in Buffalo. They found a female guard strangled, neck broken, and half her face sliced off. We don’t have any bodies in the area, so you won’t have to race off to a nasty crime scene. Buffalo PD is handling the murder investigation there.
“I just called to let you know she might try to come back here. If she does, I think that maybe you should...”
“What, Ed? You think maybe that I should run and hide somewhere? Is that what you think?”
“No, not at all. You wouldn’t anyway. Just thinking as a precaution, either take a little vacation time or have some added protection on hand.”
“I’ve used all my vacation time, and it’ll be five weeks before I can take another week. Besides, I’m good.
“Buffalo’s been hit hard by the storm this year, so travel won’t be so easy. Buffalo PD will probably pick her up in no time. If they don’t, in the morning, I’ll brief the team, and Captain Todd, and make them aware of her to be on the safe side.”
“Whatever you say, Baker. Just hate the thought of losing your bossy ass, is all.”
She laughed.
“I’ll see you in the morning, Ed. It’s time for Charlie Brown’s Christmas here,” she said loud enough for Stevie to hear. “Take care and be careful. Maybe you should watch a holiday movie tonight.”
Ed grimaced.
“Actually, I’m home watching the Steelers and Jets play. Have fun with Stevie. See you in the morning.”
Closing her cell phone, she turned as Stevie handed her a big bowl of popcorn and he ran to the remote and hit the on buttons for both the TV and DVD player. He knew there would be no intrusions tonight. Nothing to get between him and his mom.
He knew she had a job to do, one that held responsibilities. He would never cry or complain about that. But now, she was a mom first, and a cop, second. Holiday wishes can come true.
“Come on, mom! You’re going to miss the opening!”
“I’m hurrying.” The ding of the microwave sounded. “Someone forgot to melt the butter. Some popcorn guy you are.”
“Hey, I never said I was perfect.”
“Slide over, Bub. Give your mom some room.”
They laughed a little, but throughout Charlie brown’s Christmas, they both laughed and cried more; for the tenth straight year in a row.
I’m getting older, thought Baker. So is my son.
Tonight, was a good night.
The Squad Room
December 24th – Monday Morning ‒ 8:17 a.m.
“Morning everyone.
“I’m going to highlight the file sitting in front of each of you, but I also want each of you to study it carefully.
“Her name is Claire Waynestead, age thirty, born August 21, 1981, in Sonner, Texas. She is five-seven, roughly 120 to 130. Grey eyes, light complexion; she burns, never tans. Last known hair color, brunette, shoulder length; that could and probably has changed by now. She has no known friends or immediate family in the area. Her only know relative, a brother, is currently doing time in California. She is single, and she is to be considered extremely dangerous.
“Five years ago, I had the less than fortunate pleasure of taking her down. She was billed by the media as the Beauty Killer. Three years before she began her killing spree, she tried to make a go of it in Hollywood. She was told she wasn’t good enough.
“She started blaming other people for her failures. Her agent was the first one, then her parents. She went after other actors and such in the industry; primarily on-stage actors and killed about seven performers.
“She would first kidnap them by gunpoint, tie them up, and while still alive, she would take a straight razor and slice away the skin on their face. Then she would gloat over how unattractive they looked compared to her and then cut their throats.
“You see, in Hollywood, some producer there said she wasn’t attractive enough for the role she was after. She lost it. And over the years until I took her down, she ended up killing over nineteen people, all the same way.
“Ed and I suspect she may come into our neighborhood, and if she does, and if you spot her, handle her with extreme caution. Do not, and I repeat, do not try to apprehend this woman on your own. Call for backup ASAP. She’s much stronger than she looks, and for as crazy as she is; she is as smart as she is beautiful.”
Baker looked in Ed’s direction, he stood up. At six-four, and 245, he was an imposing individual to say the least.
“That’s all I have to add for right now. She escaped December 20th, four days ago, from the Buffalo State Mental Institution for the criminally insane. Buffalo PD are currently handling the case, but Waynestead strangled a female guard, and killed a nurse on duty, and sliced both of their faces to ribbons.
“As of this moment, there are no reported sightings of her being this far south but be prepared. What with the snowstorm, travel conditions are pretty rough up there at the moment. Waynestead does have access to money. A lot of it, so it may come as no surprise she’s probably purchased some car and new clothes by now. She may be holed up in a motel somewhere, having pizza delivered while waiting out the storm.”
Ed looked up with Baker standing to his right and nodded to the Captain.
Captain Todd walked to the front of the room.
“I’ve not much to add to what’s been said here, except to be extremely careful of this person. I don’t want any of you to play John Wayne or Rambo. This isn’t a movie, and you guys aren’t actors. Waynestead writes her own scripts with her own endings. Just watch your back out there.”
Baker took over.
“Your assignments have been rotated for this quarter. Check your inboxes for details. In the next few days, some of you will be assigned a rookie, and don’t bitch about it. We were all there once, so get over it now.
“If no one has any questions; get out there and stop the bad guys. Stay safe and keep our streets safe.”
As everyone was filing out, Captain Todd looked at Baker.
“I need to see you in my office.” Looking at Ed, then back to Baker, he said, “Alone.”
Ed shrugged his shoulders and said, “I’ll get us some coffee.”
Baker follow the Captain into his office and closed the door behind her as Captain Todd sat behind his desk.
“I’ve read a little more on your dealings with Waynestead than what was debriefed in the meeting, Baker.”
She just stared at him.
“When you arrested Waynestead, it said in your original report you had to have a hundred and ten stitches in both your thighs and chest. I wasn’t here when that happened, but don’t you play Rambo either; is that understood?”
“Certainly, Captain. I was much younger then, and times have changed.”
“So has she. Keep that in mind.”
“I have. Honestly, Captain, I think if she finds out I’m still here, still on the force; I believe that will be her driving factor in her coming back.”
“Revenge?”
“Precisely. That, and one other thing.”
“That you are an attractive woman?”
She blushed ever slightly to hear him say those words, especially from her superior, but it also put a small sparkle of light in her eyes to hear the words. She hasn’t been told she is attractive since before the divorce. Stevie says she is beautiful all the time, but he would. She’s his mom.
“Captain, I wouldn’t go that far, but she was in a jealous rage, and she did threaten to ruin my looks in court when she was sentenced to life at the institution in Buffalo. So I do expect her to come looking for me.”
“Then I’m issuing a surveillance team on your place until she is picked up.”
“I’ll be perfectly fine, Captain.”
“No, you won’t. Don’t argue. Until Waynestead is back in the institution where she belongs, your home will be under a twenty-four-hour watch. I’m not going to risk losing one of the best cops I have under my command. This discussion is over.
“Like you told your team; get out there and stop the bad guys.”
Break Room – 9:12 a.m.
“Ed, you know me, I can’t stand all this cloak and dagger stuff. I have Stevie at home with me for ten more days. Waynestead won’t come to my house, not directly at least. She’ll try to get at me where I’m away from immediate safety. And, by the way, this coffee is terrible.”
“Don’t blame me, blame the vending machine. Our coffee-maker is broken.”
Rodgers walked into the small break room.
“Baker? Got a minute?”
“Shoot.”
“It’s something I have to show you in the squad room. It’ll only take a couple minutes.”
“I’ll be there in a minute or two.”
She started to finish her coffee, but the taste was just too bitter.
“Look at it this way,” said Ed. “At least for the next several days, you’ll know that Stevie will be in good hands, too.”
“I’d like to think he already is.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“I know. It’s just that all of this extra stuff just isn’t necessary.”
She stood and walked back to the squad room, with Ed right behind her, just grinning from ear to ear.
As she stepped inside, there was her team in the middle of the room singing, ‘We Wish You A Merry Christmas’, at the top of their non-singing-in-tune voices; it was enough to make her skin shiver. Behind her, she could hear Ed chip in and sing as badly as everyone else. She couldn’t help but laugh and smile.
When the singing died down, Rodgers bent behind the desk and withdrew a large box and handed it to her.
“I didn’t know for sure what to get you, so we hope you like this. The guys all chipped in and said to get you something. Ed helped me as well. Anyway, here, and from all of us, Merry Christmas, Baker.”
Cheers and whistles sounded off, with words of “open it” and “what’s inside?”
Baker, as she was tearing away the ribbon and wrapping paper, did her very best to hold back the tears of thankfulness. Except for Stevie, this was the first gift not given within the family.
But these guys were her other family, so that made it just as good.
Opening the flaps aside, she reached in and pulled out two boxes. One held a set of pots and pans, and the other, a set of dishes for four. Another smaller box held four movies and two video games for Stevie.
“Thank you, guys. You shouldn’t have done this, but this is very much appreciated.”
There was a punch bowl, a platter of finger sandwiches, and chips on the desk. Even the Captain was there, so in turn, everyone wished each other a Merry Christmas.
Eventually the room emptied out as they all went about their assigned street route for the day.
Baker went into her office thinking Stevie was going to be excited over his gifts. Baker was willing to bet that that was Ed’s idea.
“Excuse me, are you Officer Baker?”
Lost in her quiet moment, she was caught unaware by the voice.
“Well, not officer, but I am Baker. Can I help you?”
“I just had this delivered to me not but ten minutes ago in my office. This note said I should deliver it to you. Kind of strange if you ask me.”
In the man’s hands was a box about six inches long and two inches deep. He stretched his arms out to give it to her.
“Just put in on my desk, please. I would like to see the note first.”
He reached into his pants pocket and handed the note to her.
Looking at the scrawled words, she recognized the handwriting immediately. Whipping out her cell phone she punched in 17.
“Ed, get over to my office, right now.” She never gave him time to speak and closed her phone down.
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to have a seat next to the water fountain over there.”
“Why? I do something wrong? I only brought you a package is all. Is that a crime these days?”
“No, sir. I am going to have someone briefly interview you and get a statement as to how all this took place this morning; then you will be free to go.”
The man grumbled slightly but sat next to the water fountain.
Ed walked in.
“What’s up?” Seeing the older man sitting down he asked, “What’s he in for?”
“I didn’t do anything! All I did was deliver a package!”
“Sir,” responded Baker, “please. You will be free to leave, soon.”
Looking at Ed, she said, “Read this.”
Taking the note, Ed read.
I thought it was about time I returned these items. I no longer have a need for them. Oh, and Merry Christmas, sweet Janis.
She then showed him the contents in the box.
A pair of eyes. A pair of ears. One tongue.