The Gayest Place on Earth
Jammed into a sardine can
ripping through the sky
at thirty-five thousand feet,
no one asked me
if I favored cock or pussy
for over two hours—
I guess it was either altitude sickness
or they didn’t give a shit.
We all shared our misery the same,
hating the ungrateful little bastards
kicking our seats
more than each other’s sexual orientations.
And when we lowered beneath the clouds
and when Florida revealed itself,
I raised my finger at the window
to the governor,
and offered a greeting from America.
According to Disney
my trip was soon to start
in the Gayest Place on Earth
DeSantis must have forgotten which State he ran for.
Book Five - Part Nine - Raging Evil: Chapter Two
Sunday Night – August 19th
All four sat around the dining room table and listened as Leon explained why he came back.
“After momma died, the three of you took me in, no questions asked. And honestly, I was scared. You all being white, me black, and you,” he pointed at Baker, “being a cop.”
He tilted his head down and took a deep breath.
“Then, things started going good. I mean, like Stevie, he, well; I kinda looked at him like an older brother. I could talk to him, and we did stuff together. And when you guys went places together, you took me with you. It felt like a second chance at having a real family again. Then comes momma’s sister.”
“Leon, did she mistreat you in any way?” asked Ed.
“No, sir. Well, she didn’t beat me if that’s what you mean. But she lives darn close in the middle of nowhere. No way for me to make any real friends and the kids I did meet on the school bus and in school, lived too far from me. Nearest one was Darnell Foster and he was about three miles away. Aunt Lynetta got no cable, no TV. She says all that stuff is sinful.
"She had plenty of money though to spend on her drinkin' and partyin' with her friends.
Heck, they still use a separate building to go to the bathroom they call an outhouse! Never seen one before and hope I never see one again! That’s where you poop and pee, and it smells! One time I thought I was gonna fall in!
“I don’t like it there. I don’t like living in the country. I want to live here, in Montie. I want to live here with all of you! Please?
“Besides,” and this was when Leon started to cry, “my momma is buried here.”
Baker blinked her eyes, took another sip of her coffee, and realized it had gone cold. Going back to the coffee machine for a second cup, she remembered the conversation she had with Judge Edmund Carson the very next day.
Monday – August 20th
Judge Carson’s Chambers – 9:30 a.m.
“Lieutenant, the boy has to be returned to Mrs. Mason. She is his legal guardian and currently his sole caretaker.”
“Actually, Judge Carson, she isn’t. What I found out this morning before I came here is that what remained of Leon’s mother’s money from the insurance policy, Mrs. Mason pretty much pocketed with the pretext of using it for Leon. And from what I understand, little to none of that has happened.”
“This is an issue for the State of North Carolina to handle. This is out of our authority.”
“Let me ask you, Judge Carson, if I can get Mrs. Mason to allow me to adopt Leon up here, would that suffice all parties concerned?”
“I would say it would. But is that what you want to do?”
“I have, ever since Leon’s mother died.”
“Then you want to do this out of a sense of responsibility?”
“Not at all. I want to do this because he needs guidance, love, and a feeling of belonging.
He doesn’t have that with Mrs. Mason.”
“Then here is what you must do for the time being. First: place him under foster care. Second: have foster care services notify the nearest County Courthouse wherever this Tomahawk place is located and have them notified of your intent. At which point, they will notify the boy’s aunt, this Mrs. Mason, of your intention to adopt.
“Be on notice Lieutenant, if she says no to your intent to adopt, you will have no legal recourse or responsibility for the boy. Are we clear on this?”
“We are, Judge.”
“If in fact she agrees, only then can you apply with the proper paperwork for adoption. You may have to wait up to ninety days. If, after that time, everything appears to be in order, then the boy, Leon Hargrave, will legally be your son, with either your last name, or your actual married last name.”
And that’s where things stood for a week.
Two days later, Stevie came up to her and said he wanted to play basketball, as well as coach.
Book Five - Part Nine - Raging Evil: Chapter One
Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible
New Living Testament, copyright ©1996, 2004
Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishing, Inc.
Quotations used by permission from Bartleby.com ©1993-2004
__________
Prelude
Lee Austin and Freddy come head-to-head with one another. Convicts break out of prison. A rapist/killer is on the loose. The basketball team goes to the state finals, but will they capture the championship?
Take all this and new characters coming into the mix, and new love interests are sparked. Other love triangles deepen; and Leon has returned. What will become of him, and how will this affect Baker. Freddy sets the time for a final face-off with Baker. What will all of this do to the city of Montie?
__________
Excerpt
Somewhere in Columbus, Ohio -11:03 a.m.
A tall man jumped out from behind a clump of bushes from the side of Mackinaw Road. At one time it was a hundred-mile stretch of blacktop that used to be a trail that would lead you from Columbus to Cincinnati back in the day. Almost seventy years ago, three large sinkholes ended that idea. Now, if it’s used for anything, it’s either to bring a date there to make out with or dump your trash.
In this case, Johnny “Baby Boy” Jackson, just finished making out with a chubby sixteen-year-old girl who begged and pleaded with him not to hurt her.
Johnny had snatched her from a bus station in Columbus, punched her in the mouth to shut her up until he got to Mackinaw Road.
He kept his promise not to hurt her after he raped her brutally. To Johnny, sex isn’t brutal, sex is all about feeling good, and when he gets rough; to him, that feels wonderful.
But he kept his promise not to hurt her anymore. He broke her neck.
In a notebook in his car, he wrote her name down: Natalie. 16. Number 41. The first one? Ellaine Mae Jackson. 62.
His mother.
__________
If you try to hang onto your life, you will lose it.
But if you give up your life for my sake,
you will save it. Matthew - 16: 25
Painful for man is rebellious independence when it has
become inevitable, only in loving companionship with
his fellows does he feel safe; only in reverently bowing
down before the Higher does he feel himself exalted – Thomas Carlyl
The way I see it, no sense in hanging onto a life that’s going
to end one way or the other. After all, like taxes, death is
inevitable, and if you get on my radar—trust me, it will
happen, and it won’t be pretty – Freddy
__________
Lee followed George Lassiter from the Hightower Inn, one of the better hotel’s in Ankara. There were four high-priced hotels. Lee had called all four, asking if either a Lassiter, Jerry Miller or Tracey McPhearson had registered.
When he found out George Lassiter had been staying at the Hightower for two days, Lee suspected he might not have much time to hunt him down before he would be out of Turkey and onto someplace else.
It wasn’t until Saturday night when he spotted his target making his way across cobblestone streets, passing under brightly lit windows holding glassware (hand blown), clothing shops, or a local food or fruit store with people inside, seemingly all talking at once, each bartering for a good deal.
Lee followed at what he considered to be at a safe distance and would do so until he knew the time was right to make his move. He didn’t want any of the locals to get in the way or killed.
Lee continued to watch as George slipped through a doorway and went up a single flight of steps.
Lee waited twenty minutes. He then watched as George retraced the steps he had climbed until he reached the open doorway. Quickly, George looked left, then to his right.
Lee pulled out his Styler 9mm, cocked the hammer ever so lightly and fired point blank at George’s head. But it was the surrounding silence and the slight tick of the hammer pulled back that gave George a half-second edge, for he literally dodged a bullet.
Lee was angry at himself. He should have known better.
He saw George duck down into the shadows around the doorway, and then he heard what sounded like police sirens. He ditched the Styler in a place where he would later come back for it. He still had his .38 on him. He could carry in Turkey, and it hadn’t been fired.
“Freddy,” he whispered, “you got a free pass this time.”
What Lee didn’t know was that Freddy had circled around Lee and took up a position neither Lee nor the Kurdish police knew of.
As Lee was questioned by the police for his name, passport, and gun permit, and as to why he is in the area at such a late time of night and had he heard any gunfire. His responses well-rehearsed was, “I’m a tourist from the United States and just exploring. I thought I heard a loud bang, but I didn’t hear any shooting.”
Freddy committed to memory all he heard and saw.
When he arrived in Rome. He would look into this Lee Austin.
Monday – October 29th
The Squad Room – 8:31 a.m.
“Just a couple more things.
“For those of you who haven’t checked you inbox, you will find a facsimile on one Johnny “Baby Boy” Jackson, who isn’t anyone’s baby boy any longer. He is forty-six, six-three, two-twenty, and sports tat’s up and down both arms.
“He was released from the Nebraska State prison last January and is considered extremely dangerous. His rap sheet tallies eight rape convictions since age sixteen; two of which were his mother and sister. And of those two, he murdered his mother, but the court couldn’t convict because somehow the evidence had been tampered with somehow.
“Currently, he is wanted in Michigan, Illinois, and Ohio with seventeen charges of rape, and over three dozen homicides. He hasn’t made his way into our state to my knowledge, but we have been put on alert for this individual. If you spot him, call for backup, then arrest him.”
“What if he doesn’t want to come along peaceable-like?” asked Clinton.
“Based on any aggressive action on his part, you do what you have to do, but first do your best to bring him in unharmed, wounded—or if need be, dead.
“Now onto some good news. Next Monday, Johnathan Prescott will be returning to active duty.”
A few cheers were raised and a smattering of applause, along with a few well-meaning comments, such as, “Probably all fat and lazy from all that good food Andrews been feeding him.”
Then Clinton opened his mouth.
“From all the sex he’s been getting, he’ll be as useless as tits on a bull.”
“All right guys, that’s enough, and Clinton? Keep your opinions to yourself.”
Baker looked around the room and asked, “Anyone have any questions? If not, then get out there and stay safe and keep our streets safe.”
As everyone filed out of the room, Rick Lowery came up to Baker.
“I was wondering if Montie’s basketball team is making another run for another Divisional Championship. Do you think they can do it again?”
“Hard to tell, but I hope so, Lowery. It would be great to see them go all the way and win the state championship this time.”
“I think they have a good shot at it. Your son, Stevie, and Ron Snyder, are the top two shooter’s.”
“There are three regular season games left,” added Dianne. “Two home games against Stanhouse and Williamsburg and the last game they play at Brimford.”
“Yeah, but Brimford and Stanhouse are both tied for second and a game behind The Pythoners,” said Terrance. “They need to beat both of them to lock in the county championship. Either way it’s been a hell of a season.”
“Either way, I think we’ve analyzed this enough. You and Lowery need to get out there and do what you do best. Just keep your eyes open if you do spot Jackson. If he’s carrying, it would be a hunting knife and a .32 Remington. It’s all in the report in your inbox.”
As Terrance and Lowery left, Baker walked into the break room, stuck a quarter and a dime in the coffee machine, pressed extra cream, extra sugar, waited three minutes, then grabbed her cup and made her way back to her office. Just as she made it to the door, she saw Satchell about to leave his office.
“Busy day already, Satchell?”
“You can say that. I have a meeting with the Mayor at 9:30. At 10:30, I have a meeting with the Fire Marshall, Sam Jessup. From there, I head over to Montie High and give the annual speech, aka lecture on safety. At noon, lunch with Samantha. After that, it’s whatever comes up next.”
“You and Samantha are becoming quite the item lately.”
Satchell smiled a sheepish grin.
“I know. The whole thing was more of a surprise for me than anyone else. I wasn’t looking, but looking for, found me. I can thank my brother-in-law and his wife for that. They hatched the whole thing up, though Don denies he had a hand in it, and now, well; I’m grateful to them.”
“You look happy, Satchell. I know it was hard on you when June died, but now, you look. Oh, I don’t know … reborn maybe? Either way, I am happy for you both.”
“Thanks, Baker. You’ll have to excuse me, but I need to get a move on. Talk with you later. Give my best to Ed and Stevie.”
As Satchell took the steps down to get to the parking garage to his car, Baker went inside her office and sat at down at her desk and started checking her email.
There wasn’t anything of major importance but as she sipped her coffee, she let her mind drift back. Back to the night little Leon Hargrove showed up at her front door all the way from Tomahawk, North Carolina, almost 650 miles away. His appearance was just one of the mini-to-major events that took place.
July 14, 1990
I escaped death, by drowning, through the keyhole in the water.
The day prior, I had randomly picked up a small thin book and flipped open to a page.
Number 14, I remember vividly. It gave a tip. "How to Save Yourself from Drowning," a diagram with the illustration of an old skeleton key and a doorway, like to Heaven.
I had never learnt to swim. Certainly not in peer pressure...
Tomorrow my best friend was turning 10. Her father had given her a letter N stuffie, for Nicole, and a birthday party at the lake. A green murky bottomless basin.
Too yucky for you? Pale skin blushing in the sun.
"Can your feet touch the ground?!"
Yes, yes, they can. Jump in, the water is fine!
"Jump in. Jump in. Jump in. Jump in..."
And in, there, too green.
Not coward, nor prudent
Not being able to swim..!
Not wanting to jump out of Life.
No one believing, in not floating up;
Eyes open, one foot under and sinking,
Time stops but the heart is still ticking,
I've no instinct except to Think: I am Going to Die.
My ears are deafening with liquid, and lungs are screaming.
I remember the keyhole and draw its potent shape in the water.
Propelled immediately like by magic string, gasping, to the surface, breathing!
It must have been way down dark to cause such a panic on their helpless small faces.
Five of us in the water and no one to save us. Children God bless the handle on the floaty.
They haul me to the rocky edge, where Mr. Falanga is in horror holding out a hairy hand.
Hoisted to a towel. Puking water on dry land.
This is how I escaped, death, by drowning.
Through the keyhole in the water.
06.28.2023
Birthdays & Getting Older challenge @Melpomene
Book Four - Part 8 - Rhyming Evil - Chapter Sixty-One
Another Weekend In Montie Begins
One Traffic citation was handed out all day and the winner was one Albert Scaldondi, with Mississippi plates.
He was on his way to Stanhouse to visit with his daughter and son-in-law. They brought a new life into this world. Her name, Isabella. They named her after his wife, who died a month after Teresa married Alfonse.
Dianne almost ripped up the citation and would have, were it not for Clinton.
“Sir, I appreciate your desire to get there, but speeding isn't the way to go about it. Drive the speed limit Mr. Scaldondi. Stanhouse is less than ten miles from here.”
At A Touch Of Grace, the line was still long and would stay that way until their doors closed for good.
No one Ever seem to notice the shelves never seemed to empty. No one questioned the amount of items that were always available, or their cost.
Several People would have an idea of the gift they had in mind, which Grace somehow, always manage to find in the storeroom.
Baker made her way into the store and Grace walked up to her.
“Just give me a moment, Lieutenant. Let me go in the back and get you your gift.”
When she returned, not only was Baker stunned by what she saw, but so were several other customers.
“As promised. A one-of-a-kind creation.”
Grace handed Baker back the original picture Grace worked from. Then she handed her a two-foot high, four-foot-long Catamaran, detailed with three sails, painted in a deep velvet and baby blue. And there, just as in the picture, stood two six-inch porcelain figures of Stevie and Ellie. They were held in place with special epoxy glue.
When Baker first saw the porcelain creations, there was a brief flashback when she had seen three other porcelain creations of her, Stevie, and Ed.
“Are you all right, Lieutenant?”
Regaining her composure quickly she said, “I’m fine. I’m overwhelmed. This is just beautiful. You must allow me to give you something for this.”
“What if I ask for a Locket of your hair for payment?”
“My hair?”
“It would be a fond remembrance of one who does so much, Not only for your community, but your family, as well as for strangers who are in need.”
Baker walked out minus a few strands of hair. As far as she was concerned, a priceless gift such as what she carried, she would treasure to the day she died.
As any weekend in Montie goes, people make plans, others didn't, and the rest are spontaneous.
Andre Devon had plans to take Vanessa and Jenny to Brighton to see an off-Broadway play for kids. The Muppets Save New York.
Satchell also made plans to have dinner at The Cowboy Ranch in Brighton and do a little line dancing with Sam. Of course, he checked with her first to see if she could.
J.W. and Patrick Made plans to have a quiet dinner, a bottle of wine, and as Patrick put it, “A little wild and crazy music,” at his house. This would be the first time they would spend an entire weekend together in Patrick’s home with no interruptions.
Patrick wanted to talk about the right now with J.W. He wanted to talk about tomorrow and the day after that.
He knew J.W.’s Job wasn't only stressful, but dangerous. Patrick also knew the risk he was taking, falling in love with a cop. There might come a day when policemen come to his home and tell him J.W. died in the line of duty.
That bothered him but it didn't scare him away. He could honestly say that in his life, he met two men he loved more than anything else in the world.
And when Baker came home at the end of her day with her special gift in tow, she placed it on the Mantel above the fireplace.
Ed was in complete awe.
When Stevie saw it, he called Ellie and told her she had to see what his mom brought home and that her parents needed to see this, too.
After everyone had arrived, the detail amazed Ellie. Her dad said that Grace added the boat detail from stem to stern was an exact replica.
“Something like this would take weeks to recreate and you say she did this in a matter of days? Incredible! She and her son’s must be magicians.”
“You guys will be out at Standing Room Lake tomorrow, right?”
“We should be. You want to go boating with us again, Stevie?”
“If it isn’t a problem, sir.”
“You aren’t a problem, Stevie.”
Ellie squeezed Stevie’s hand.
“That’s settled. Looking over the detail even if we are tiny, the dolls look just like us, Stevie.”
“Yeah, it’s kind of wild, huh?”
Stevie looked at his mom.
“You said you got this from A Touch Of Grace, right?”
“That I did. Ordered it and picked it up myself. We’re good.”
“Well, while you were all yacking up a storm, I called Albertini’s. They’ll be here in about twenty minutes with a couple pizza’s. So, who’s up for some Monopoly?”
When Saturday arrived, the town clock struck noon, not a soul was waiting to get inside A Touch Of Grace.
And if you looked in the windows, you would see a large empty room. The counter and all the shelves, empty. If you went into the back room where Grace and her son’s performed their mastery of one-of-a -kind pieces; it lay bare as the front.
But the City Park was filled with laughing children, teens playing soccer or tennis, and couples both young and old would walk hand in hand, or arm in arm. When you looked into the wrinkled eyes of the older couples, you would see decades of love etched and surrounded by unspoken words of always and forever yours.
But it was this Saturday afternoon, August 12, 2012, that would puzzle a few people.
Baker and Ed, with Baker driving her red Hummer, were on their way to Standing Room Lake. It wasn't quite 12:30, but in her rear-view, Baker saw a fire truck coming up behind her. She pulled over onto the shoulder to allow it to pass.
“Hope there is no fire at the Lake.”
“Don’t get excited, Jan. Those guys are doing their job. Everything is fine.”
Baker resumed her drive, driving a little faster and was about hundred feet behind the fire truck. Then she spotted another one coming from Stanhouse.
“Over there on the right, Jan. See all that smoke?”
Baker was suddenly relieved.
“And you don't need to stop, either.”
She smiled and drove past the five-mile marker to Stanhouse and a quarter mile later, took the entrance to the Lake on Ochie Woods Lane.
Meanwhile, both fire trucks, called Hook and Ladders, turned on a small dirt road that under normal circumstances, because of the vast thickness of trees on both sides could easily be missed.
And just before that road, there used to be a sign with an arrow that read: Bethany’s.
As both trucks rumbled across the dirt road, they could still see a thick plume of grayish-black smoke. They hoped they would be there in enough time to save some lives as well as property.
When they made the last winding turn and drove up onto a clear field with a dense forest in the background; there wasn’t any burning building or home and certainly, no massive fire.
There was absolutely nothing.
When the weekend anchor crew from Channel 08 news came out to get film footage of a fire called in by a woman, they were disappointed.
The fire-fighter’s from Montie and Stanhouse were scratching their heads over this one and couldn’t understand what they had seen.
They didn’t have a choice. Wherever the Doll-Maker was; she wasn’t here any longer.
And the weekend Moved on as it should. The nights grew darker, faster and they were starting to get cooler. Summer was slowly disappearing.
Oh, and the stars! By the billions. If you are like some people, you have a special star or two you talk with on nights like this. Nights that are void of everything but you're breathing and the words you impart to a star you named after a parent, a grandparent, son or daughter, husband, or wife, or that best friend.
Montie has many nights like this. This just happened to be one of them.
Don’t let this lull you to sleep.
Baker will have another fax waiting on her when she comes back to work on Monday.
After all, even Freddy deserves a fun weekend too. Wouldn’t you agree?
The most amazing thing of all happened Sunday evening, just after dark. Just when those millions or so stars appeared as if it were a magical moment and a three-quarter moon blazoned with a white aura, when the doorbell rang.
Stevie got up from the couch with Baker in the kitchen making popcorn, and Ed in the living room setting up the DVD player to play a couple movies rented earlier in the day.
When Stevie opened the door, he looked down with a shocked, yet smiling look on his face, said, “Dude! What are you doing here?”
Then he turned and yelled really loud, “Mom! Ed! We have company! Better come take a look!”
Baker and Ed came to the front door. They both had the same shocked yet pleased look on their faces.
“Leon! How did you get here?”
Book Four - Part 8 - Rhyming Evil - Chapter Sixty
Thursday – August 16th
The Squad Room – 8:38 a.m.
“A final note. Yesterday was a wonderful day. Let’s make today the same way.
“Whoever is covering Main Street from the seven hundred to sixteen-hundred blocks; keep an eye on the crowd lined up waiting to get inside A Touch Of Grace. I’d hate to see a panic breakout for any reason.”
“Yeah. My wife got so upset about them closing, she actually made me sleep on the couch like it was my fault!”
Denver Jones, a swing-shift desk clerk, switched over to fill in the gap while Rick Lowery was on vacation. This meant that Spinelli and the graveyard man, Robbie McNeal, worked twelve-hour shifts.
“Probably was your fault after all, Denver, you old reprobate,” cackled Ryan Clinton.
“When are you retiring, anyway?”
“Never!”
General laughter over the banter broke freely before Baker took back control.
“Okay, guys; If there aren't any questions, then get out there and stay safe and keep our streets safe.”
She motioned Clinton and Andrews to her side.
“Davis’s wife called in and he's caught a bug. He’ll be out until Monday. So, you \two get the saddle up together. Have a good day out there.”
Baker walked back to her office, shut behind her desk, and turned her computer on and began what she does every Thursday—a nationwide search on her unsol’s.
Fifty-seven search engines, state by state plus the FBI, CIA, CIA Canada, Interpol, Australia, South America, Africa, and Asia.
There were several cases she knew she should file away and forget about. But she held on to the belief that each missing person would one day be found, and a family would have closure and be at peace, a peace they so desperately needed.
When it came to finding the truth; quit wasn't in her job description.
2631 Seventh Street – 11:01 a.m.
His cell phone rang.
Before he answered, he pulled over a block past Maxine’s Hair Salon. To his right was a vacant lot with a sign that had the word SOLD in big red letters across it.
“This is Captain Page.”
“Hello, John. You never gave me the chance to thank you for such a beautiful gift.”
“No need to thank me, Sam. It was something I wanted to do.”
“That’s nice to know and even nicer to hear. Are you free for lunch?”
“Actually, I am. I just left the courthouse and was planning on going home to fix myself something to eat.”
“Please don't. I’m leaving to go to Del Rio’s. Why don't you meet me there, say 11:30?”
Satchell smiled.
“It’ll be closer to 11:45 for me but if I remember correctly, today is their meatloaf special. It’s the best anywhere around for miles.”
Samantha laughed.
“Then meatloaf it is.”
Del Rio’s – 12:55 p.m.
Satchell looked at his watch.
“My, God! The time has gotten away from me. I have an appointment with a plumber at my apartment at one-thirty. I really have to go, Sam.
“But I have enjoyed our time together. Thank you for the invitation.”
“My pleasure, John. And thank you for the tip on the meatloaf. You were right.”
“I’m also happy you like the locket.”
Satchell watched as she held it up and looked at it again.
“I just don’t know how you managed to have this done.”
“I gave Grace Middleton the idea and she ran with it. Give her the credit, not me.”
Samantha looked again as the clouds moved across the blue sky, and then they crossed over her and Satchell's face, etched into the background of the sky.
“This is a gift I will treasure the rest of my life.”
They made their way out to the parking lot and with an embrace that felt good to both, and a kiss that could have lingered longer, Satchell told Sam he would call Friday after work.
Five minutes later, his car was out of sight.
Amazing what A Touch Of Grace can do to spark a new romance. Wouldn’t you agree?
Baker’s Office – 4:47 p.m.
No hits. No families to call. In a way that was terrible. In another way, it was just as well. Delivering bad news, no matter the reason, is never good, even if it means finding a child long since dead.
She has seen the same look on every parent's face. The initial look of shock, followed with eyes filling with tears. Their bodies begin to shake. Some cry quietly, other scream their pain and rage for a lost son or daughter. It was the same in every place she had went; yet, each time the pain still became the road to peace, and in a way, made a difference.
Just not today.
Before she decided to leave, she looked in on Lee Austin, just to see if there were anything else she needed to know.
She saw where he applied for and received his driver’s license and a PI license. It also showed his permit to carry a standard police .38 Special. Interesting.
Then she backpedaled even further, back before Ricky, Lee’s brother was murdered. Austin Senior left both his son’s with a hunk of cash. Each received $400,000. After Ricky was buried, he had bequeathed half of that to his daughter’s and with what remained, another $30,000 to Lee. Between his and his wife’s insurance policies, after funeral expenses, there was an additional hundred-grand set aside for Ricky’s girls. At least their futures were assured.
But what future was Lee Austin going after? PI’s don’t make six-figures, yet alone a decent five-figure number.
Baker hit Ctrl/alt/del, shut off her computer and left her office, hitting the light switch on the way.
“Enough for now. I’ll worry about Lee, later.”
Friday – August 17th
The Squad Room – 8:33 a.m.
“It looks like we’ll make it into the weekend without so much as a fender-bender, a broken bone, or a black eye from anyone.
“Andrews and Clinton, keep an eye on Grace’s place, at least until after they are packed up tomorrow.
“Oooops, sorry.”
“What? No overtime, Baker?” said Clinton.
“I forgot today is Friday. Keep an eye on her place. The team tomorrow will get the memo for Grace’s then.
“And another reminder; next week, starting Tuesday, we start the drive for MDA.
“Now, I’m going to be a shameless mother for a minute.
“My son, Stevie, has brokered a deal with Insta-Printer’s, and on consignment, he has in our garage no less; 720 dozen T-shirts that look like this.”
She held one up and passed two others around where everyone could see close up what was on the shirts.
“The proceeds from the sales is a break-even venture for Insta-Printer’s. The shirt sells for ten dollars. Jerry’s Kids get to keep six of that ten.”
“Your boy is a helluva salesman, Baker.”
“I know, J.W,” smiled Baker.
“We will have five-hundred dozen shirts to sell between Tuesday and September third and we will get it done. All right, I’m finished being a shameless mother.
“Now go on and get out there and stay safe and keep our streets safe.”
LaGuardia Airport – 10:03 a.m.
Lee Austin Loaded the jetliner that would travel nonstop to London. Then he would exchange flights in Frankfurt, Germany, then go by train straight through to Vienna. There would be a twenty-hour layover as only one train travels from Vienna, to Bucharest, Romania, and that was where easy stopped.
From that point until he arrived where he believed Freddy would strike next, Lebanon; the rest of the journey would be on old roadways by bus.
If things worked out, he should be there by Wednesday. If Freddy kept the same timeline; Freddy will meet his maker.
In the holding area, inside a lead-lined trunk, was enough firepower to knock out a small village.
If need be, he would use every round on Freddy.
Book Four - Part 8 - Rhyming Evil - Chapter Fifty-Nine
Wednesday – August 15th
The Twenty-Second Precinct – 8:53 a.m.
“Okay, guys. Just before we all head out for the day, Mayor Marsh has an announcement to make. It’s why I asked you all out here in the parking lot where everyone can hear her.”
“Ladies and gentlemen; first off, I want to thank each and every one of you for your selfless courage and outstanding performance and diligence to not only the safety of our city, but to our residents and our children.
“I was never prouder of each one of you on the day the vice-president was here and handed out your citations. That was the first time on record an entire police force received that much recognition. You do yourselves proud.”
The outside exploded into applause and whistles, then quieted down when she raised her hand.
“I have here, two awards; one of which is given to the top qualifier at Brewster's Gun Club. And I am happy to announce that Andre Devon is this year’s winner.”
Andre step forward as more applause and calls of, “Way to go, Cisco!” filled the air.
Jean Marsh pinned the Expert Medal on his shirt just below his badge. Andre thanked her, waved to all his partners in the parking lot and went back and stood next to J.W.
“This Next award is brand new. It is named the Davenport Award. As many of you know, Patrick Davenport owns and runs our animal clinic and shelter.
“He came to me a while back with an idea I instantly agreed with. This award not only speaks about individual bravery, but also speaks about care, concern, and a love for animals. This award, I and proud the say, goes to the officer who, at significant risk to her own life, made sure every pet, both in the clinic and personally owned, were kept out of harm's way when the tornado struck.
“Our first recipient and hopefully not our last, and may we follow her example; I am proud to give this medallion to Officer Dianne Andrews.”
Blushing and smiling, every cop there applauded her as she made her way to Mayor Marsh. She heard many voices as she made her way to receive her medallion as everyone was practically saying the same thing, “Congratulations! You deserve this! You’re one hell of a cop!”
Mayor Marsh placed the medallion over Dianne's head. on one side we're three engraved faces of animals. on the reverse was an engraved etching of a policeman with the dog with these words surrounding it: Preserve – Protect - Defend – Honor – Courage.
Looking down at the medallion. She thanked Mayor Marsh, then she looked out at her peers.
“When I decided to be a cop, I knew the risks I took, especially being a woman and being accepted by my peers. Over time, the acceptance came easier than I expected, but I also found the risks worthwhile when doing the right thing.
“Again, thank you Mayor Marsh, and thank you, Mr. Davenport. This is one award that will always remain special to me.”
There were a few more whistles and applause before Baker took back control of the area.
“Thank you, Mayor Marsh, and as Officer Andrews said, thank you Mr. Davenport on behalf of the Twenty-Second, to recognize one of our own.
“Now, after all this excitement, if there isn’t anything else, if there are no questions, I just want to add one thing; celebrity photos and autographs will be held at five this afternoon for anyone interested in having their picture taken with Devon and Andrews.
“Otherwise, we are running late, so get out there and stay safe and keep our streets safe.”
Davenport Animal Clinic – 9:47 a.m.
“Hello, this is Patrick Davenport.”
“Hello yourself, Patrick.”
“James! This is a surprise.”
“No, you are the surprise. That was a wonderful thing you did, having an award given to Andrews.”
“Ah, I see. So then, Mayor Marsh was able to get it to her.”
“Yes, but why didn’t you give it to her yourself?”
“I know you said the Lieutenant and the Captain knows you are gay as well as your partner, Andre, but forgive me, I was afraid I may have spent more time looking at you than Dianne Andrews.”
J.W. rolled his eyes.
“Whatever, Patrick. How Does a trip back to Brighton sound to you this weekend?”
“Love it.”
“Then be ready after five come Friday. I’ll pick you up at your place.”
“Love you, James.”
“You too, Patrick.”
J.W. looked at the grin on Devon’s face.”
“What?”
“You, that’s what.”
“Huh?”
“Maybe No one else can see what I see, but I see a man very much in love. And I say it's about time.
“Now, let's go and see if we can avoid catching some bad guys today!”
3649 Hester Avenue – 11:17 a.m.
Stevie drove up to Ellie's parent’s house and parked in their driveway. As he walked to the front door, he carried a paper bag holding T-shirts.
Ellie Saw him pull in had opened the door just as he was about to ring their doorbell.
“Hi, Stevie. This is a surprise.”
“Hi, Ellie.”
As He entered the house, they gave each other a quick kiss.
“So, what's in the bag?”
“Tee’s for you and your parents. I’ve Already handed out T shirts to all the guys who will help us raise money for MDA. Tell me what you think.”
Stevie reached in the bag, pulled out a T shirt that had the words: I Am A Volunteer for MDA, printed in an arc over a graphic picture of Jerry Lewis and a small child, and underneath it read: For Jerry’s Kids.
“That is so cool, Stevie! Mom and dad will just love this.”
“I hope so. There are 10,000 more just like these.”
“What!”
“I came up with the idea on my own a few days ago. I went to a print shop and he made a deal with me for just his cost. We sell 10,000 shirts for ten dollars, he gets four, and the rest goes to MDA.
“We can sell these door-to-door, and the police can sell some at the Arena. It’s a win-win situation.”
“You rock, Stevie. That is a great idea.”
“So, ah … you want to go out to the Lake today?”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you, sorry. Mom’s sister is coming in from Salt Lake City sometime today with her two sons, and I promised I’d stay home in case they showed up before either mom or dad get home from work.”
“Okay. How long are they staying?”
“I really think for good. Aunt Violet and Uncle Victor are separated right now, and it doesn’t look good. I guess Aunt Violet caught Uncle Victor cheating on her or something like that.”
“Ouch! Not good. The only time someone should see another person is if they are already single, divorced, or widowed. Otherwise, work your problems out, get past them and keep the marriage or relationship going.”
“Is that what you would do? Work on the problem?”
“Sure, I would, Ellie. I’d be a coward if I said I would quit and walk away and not try to make things right or better somehow.
“I sometimes think that that’s part of the world’s problem. A situation or crisis happens, and instead of finding a way to peacefully resolve things; people just let things get worse until it’s too late.”
“Stevie? Will we always love each other?”
“I don’t know how long always, is; but however long it is, that’s how long I want to stay in love with you and have us be the best of friends, too.”
Ellie threw her arms around his neck, kissing and hugging him tightly to her body.
“Me, too. I hope we always stay best friends. I pray we never lose the love we have.”
Pulling back a tiny bit, Stevie said, “As long as we remain true to each other and do for each other, we can make what we have right now a little stronger each day of our lives together."
Ellie pulled back and looked into Stevie’s eyes.
“It’s times like this, I am happy you are in my life.”
The Twenty-Second Precinct – 1:47 p.m.
“So, where is he Spinelli?”
“Up in your office, Baker. He’s been up there right after I called you.”
Walking the flight of steps to her office with Dian ne right behind her, this was to be an unexpected surprise. On the way back to the Stationhouse, she mentioned him to Dianne.
“I remember him. He's the guy who saved the mother and her baby in town from a burning car moments before it exploded.”
“One and the same,”
“Now that guy is a real hero.”
“I agree, but I wonder what he's doing back here?”
As Baker walked into her office, Ronald Gunderson stood, turned, and smiled at her.
From what she could remember the long dark hair was now cut much shorter, his face clean shaven, and he traded in jeans and boots for a two-piece suit.
“Lieutenant Baker, It is a sincere pleasure to see you again.”
He extended his arm, and both shook hands.
“Ronald Gunderson, right? Headed West for a job.”
“Good memory. Because of your help, I made it there in plenty of time. Since then, up until two months ago, I've been able to have visitation rights with my kids. Again, all because of your help. I can never repay you enough for your kindness, but I can at least repay the loan.”
Ronald reached inside his coat pocket and extracted a white envelope he handed to Baker.
Baker looked inside and counted $4,000\.
“Mr. Gunderson, I gave you $1,500. This is far too much.”
“Not really, Not when you consider a new belt, a rebuilt engine, new tires and labor; I'd say that pretty much spot on.”
“Sorry,” she said. “What I gave you was a gift. I never take a gift back once it's been given.”
Ronald started to reach for it when he pulled back.
“Then what if you take it and use it to help someone else or donate it to a charity of your choice.”
“Now that I can do. We will be starting our MDA drive shortly. I can drop this in along with other contributions.”
“Then it’s settled. I’ll be leaving now, but I want to thank you one more time for all your help.”
He handed Baker one of his business cards and on the back he had written his home address.
“I’d you and your family ever make it out my way, stop in. I have a few spare rooms. I’d be honored to have you and yours as my guests.”
Baker looked at the card and smiled. Ronald Gunderson, Director of Operations.
“You Have made progress. I'm delighted everything worked out for you. And, if my son and husband and I ever do get out your way; will be sure to stop by.”
She watched as Ronald walked out of her office and it did her psyche good knowing that something positive can happen in people’s lives that venture through Montie.
She looked at the card again. Jackson Hole, Wyoming.
She sat down in front of her computer and Googled the city and population. She found it was a little larger than Montie in both size and population. Ronald has seven acres of flatlands about twenty-five miles northeast of Jackson Hole. the company he works for, Western Industries, which drills for oil, was twenty miles South of him.
Baker mused a thought to herself; Dianne voiced that same thought\.
“Makes you wonder if he has horses, doesn't it?”
The Rest Of The Day In Montie
As most people do, they worked. Some we're on deadlines trying to finish up July's monthly report to their corporations by the twentieth.
Other people were meeting immediate order deadlines such as the drive-thru’s at McDonald's, Burger King, and Taco Bell.
No matter who did what, no matter what pressures may be faced, the residents and employees of Montie could feel other pressures of danger long gone; faded away like night changing today.
Single or married, mattered not. People would relax tonight and enjoy a night filled with peace and quiet.
Even Channel 08 news couldn't dredge up anything locally that could be considered horrifying or dangerous.
But there was a bit of personal sadness at Jack and Peggy Anders house. Lee informed them he had just taken on his first case as an investigator. It would involve a lot of surveillance and that he could be gone for as long as three months.
His rent was paid at his apartment for six months in advance, so there wouldn't be any questions there. He promised to call Jack and Peggy if there were any problems.
Later that night when he was in his own place, he bought a one-way ticket to Lebanon. Showing his passport at the gate wouldn't be an issue Top of the line forgery by a close friend.
According to news around the world, there was a lot of civil and political unrest there. A Syrian general was making claims to take control of Syria, Lebanon, and Damascus.
Would General Masya El Kaliya, be the next target? Lee would find out soon enough.