Murder most foul.

I hate this

2010-10-24T10:07:00.000-07:00

I really am sorry to say I am going to close this blog. My mind is not working as well as I had hoped so I can't really keep writing. Thing just kind of get lost and when I go back and read what I write it doesn't even make sense to me.

I'm not sick or anything just confused a lot. So good luck to you all.

2010-10-17T06:05:00.001-07:00

I looked through the police report until I found the detective interview with the parents. Shanon had gone out with a friend. One she was supposed to pick up. She actually left the house alone in her car.

I went to my board and wrote. SOURCE OF THE CAR... GIFT OR ?

She didn’t mention the name of the friend, and no one came forward. For that reason her movements that night were a mystery. I would have expected her ten year old car to turn up outside a club, movie, restaurant, or some other place a young women might choose to spend her evening. Instead it turned up in the parking lot of a small strip mall. It was a shame that on one had a parking lot camera.

A canvas of the stores revealed that no one had noticed anyone leaving the car. It seemed that several car pools used that part of the parking lot, so it went unnoticed. One thing for sure, the car had not been wiped clean. It was a cornucopia of finger prints. Most were matched to her one friend, Martha Evans, none of the others popped out of the NCIC computer run. If someone else had driven her car that night, he or she had no criminal record.

I wrote on my board. HOW DID SHARON’S CAR GET TO THE PARKING LOT.

So I knew Sharon left home in her car that night. She may or may not have been headed out to meet her killer. If she had not been on a date with her killer then where was she likely to have gone? I needed to talk to her friend Martha.

“Hello,” I said to the person who answered the cell phone of the only friend the police had interviewed. “Is this Martha?”

“No, it’s Martha’s mother. Who the hell are you, and what is a grown man doing calling my daughter?”

“I’m Chief Burke of security for the park service. I was calling to arrange a meeting. I would like to speak to your daughter about Sharon McDonald.”

“Oh, she has already spoken to Detective Edwards. I don’t know why the park service is interested.”

“Well Shanon might have been involved in some park activities the night she disappeared. Or at the very least park facilities might have been used in her murder, so if you wouldn’t mind, I need to speak with your daughter. Is there a time that would be convenient. You are more than welcome to be at the interview.”

“Even if Shanon was involved with something there, what has my daughter got to do with it?”

“Maybe nothing, but I won’t know until I ask her.” I was avoiding my sarcastic voice.

“It’s late now sometime tomorrow after school would be alright, I guess.”

“Is she home from school by 4pm?” I asked.

“Usually, I’ll make sure she is here tomorrow.”I made a note to be sure Jane asked the people she spoke to if they heard or saw anything the night Shanon died. It might not help, but it couldn’t hurt to ask. Just to be sure that I didn’t forget, I emailed the note to myself at the office.

“Thank you Mrs. Evans.” She hung up without even a goodbye. That went real well, I thought.

“Mrs McDonald?” I asked of the lady who answered the phone at the McDonald house.

“Yes,” she responded carefully..

I explained again about my need for information. “So I will probably be calling you now and then to ask question you have already answered. Lots of bits and pieces of information don’t make it into the police report. I’m just trying to do a thorough assessment of the facts to be sure our parks weren’t involved in her death.”

“Is this necessary, the police are investigating.”

“Mrs. McDonald, I was a regular police officer for 18 years before I transfered to the Park Service. All the security personnel here are sworn officers, so talking to me is just talking to another cop.”

“Very well, anything to help find who killed my little girl.”

“Thank you ma’am. Could you tell me if the car she drove that night was a gift or if she purchased it herself?”

“We didn’t give her the car, she saved her money to buy it.”

“Did Shanon have a job?”

2010-10-15T09:55:00.000-07:00

The next morning I stopped by the Hobby House before I headed to the marina. I found sheets of cheap brown cardboard used to back picture in a frame. the sheets were thirty inches by forty inches. I figured i need at least three of them to start.

From the Hobby House I drove to my new almost empty office. The marina had to be the most beautiful spot in the whole damn town. Too bad the view from my office was of the parking lot. It seemed that the lake view was much too valuable for an employee.

I looked out over the parking lot and tried to concentrate on the over night report from Carlton. Carlton was one of those rangers who had been a city cop who retired early. He was putting in time until his Social Security and Medicare kicked in. I learned from Carlton that buying private medical insurance was prohibitive. He informed me that he worked mostly for the city provided insurance. The salary for a ranger was just a little over minimum wage unless you had 18 years in like me. Even then it had required a lateral transfer to keep my salery.

The total of his report was a list of his rounds followed by the short entry, all okay. I would have been worried that he wasn’t doing his job, except that I checked the parking lot tapes from every location he was supposed to visit I found the ranger car pulling into the parking lot on time. He left the car to do his walking rounds just as he was supposed to do.

That took me until noon, what with all the tapes I had to view. After I got back from lunch, I called Jane to ask that she stop by between rounds. She made it in around 1:30.

“What’s up boss?” she asked.

“Nothing really, I just wanted to ask if you remembered the day you guys found Shanon in the lake?”

“Sure, how could anyone forget that. Did anything happen around that time at the campground?”

“Not that I remember. The patrolmen and later the detective asked the same thing. I never could think of a thing.”

“I would go back and read Carlton’s reports, but I know how they would read.”

“Yeah all secure,” she replied. It must have been a well documented fact that Carlton didn’t like to write incident reports.

“If you have some spare time, I want you to do me a favor. I want you to get the
campground logs for that week and make some calls. Verify that all those contact phone numbers are real.”

“Why do you think that she went in from the campground?”

“I don’t really. I mostly want to rule it out before moving on. After all we don’t want to run a refuge for riff raff.” I laughed as i said it. There were two possibilities, even if she were killed at the campground. One was that the killer was just that a killer. If he planned to kill when he checked in, then his sign in info would be worthless. The other and more likely was that something just went terribly wrong and a young girl died during a crime of passion. In which case everything would be in order. So even if Jane found everything in order, I would have learned something.

“Ordinarily during an early fall week there would be very few campground visitors, but it was trade show week. The campground wasn’t full but it was damn close to full,” Jane informed me with an excited look. She had spent the afternoon assembling the list and checking just a couple of the phone numbers. I found her at the spare desk after a couple of hours. I checked on her because I knew her shift would be about to end.

“I got the list ready and made a couple of calls between rounds. At this rate it will take me at least till the weekend to get them all checked.”

“Well don’t make it a top priority just yet. You need to keep your park ranger job as priority one. This is just a diversion. Hell everybody needs one.” I smiled as I returned to my office.

Later that afternoon I stopped at the Food Warehouse, on the way home from work. I filled one of their hand held baskets with frozen dinners. I still had a couple of bags of frozen dinner rolls at home in the freezer, so the only other thing on my list was a dozen eggs.

With my grocery shopping done, I headed home. Home was a very small double wide mobile home. Whoever had owned the beast before me had been a Martha Stewart wannabe. It looked like an average double wide on the outside, except for the house grade vinyl siding and the real stone foundation.

Someone had added a concrete stoop complete with metal awning onto the front. It made for a small porch of sorts. I had sat there with a cup of bad coffee more than a few times. The small lot on which the beast sat was landscaped much better than any of the other double wide lots around it. Almost all my neighbors had no front porch, but they had a rear deck, I had the porch but no real deck. The rear deck was just enough for steps and an uncovered landing. If I tried to enter there during a storm, I got soaked. I had been meaning to add an awning over it for the five years I had owned the place. I just never got around to it. After all it was clear more than it rained, so it just kept slipping my mind.

I used the cardboard panels to create my own Murder Board. I attached the cardboard to the upgrade drywall with push pins. Those I found in my desk drawer where I knew they would be.

My first attachment to the board was a picture of Shanon McDonald on the autopsy table.

The question I wrote on the board was, HOW DID SHE GET IN MY RESERVOIR.

Under that heading, I put the chart from the city’s hydro engineer. I couldn’t make heads or tails of it, but I had a good idea who could get me an answer. It was way too late to catch my cousin Davie in his office at the University, but I had his home number. I got voice mail so I explained that I needed an expert. I sent him the data I had and asked that he check around the campus for me. Since David owed me, I figured he would find someone.

2010-10-11T10:06:00.000-07:00

Jay Jay arrived just after 9 pm. “So why are you interested in Shanon McDonald?”

“Is that the name of the girl who went into the lake.?”

“Why don’t you know that? I heard you picked up a copy of the police report today.”

“Damn woman, do you have spies everywhere?”

“Here and there, and they thought I would like to know what my boyfriend is up to.”

“I doubt they think of me as your boyfriend.”

“Well my secret lover, which is not even a secret from my mother.”

I smiled waited a couple of minute then asked. “So what’s the scoop on Shanon?”

“She was seventeen years old and a senior at Central High School.”

“Any extra curricular activities?”

“Do you mean like the marching band or like drugs?”

“Either?”

“She wasn’t the social type. Friends said she was voted most likely to wipe out the school and commit suicide.”

“Ah, black trench coat type?”

“Yeah Goth, or as much Goth as you a teen can be in a southern town.”

“Any drugs in her life?”

“None we could find, but the police report should answer that better.”

“I was waiting for your footage before I went into all that.”

“So are we going to watch an hour's worth of my coverage of Shanon McDonald, or are we going to screw?”

“Is that a one or the other option?”

“Afraid so, I have to be back at the studio in two hours.”

“Oh why do you have to go back in the middle of the night.”

“Buddy and I are going to take a train ride. The train only stops here in the middle of the night these days.”

“So why are you doing it anyway?”

“We are going to interview the last of the old black men Arlo Gutherie wrote about. You know the song “City of New Orleans” was actually about a conductor he met on a train. The last of the old timers on the New York to New Orleans run is retiring. Now everything is automated. Pa Systems to make the announcements and the trains have automated doors and steps. Just no need for conductors anymore.”

“Well then let’s get to bed, since I know that is the only reason you come here.” I said it with a smile. She placed the dvd on the kitchen table, then led the way to my bedroom.

2010-10-10T11:25:00.001-07:00

One thing I learned that afternoon, water all looks alike. The secret was on the shoreline, not in the water.

We passed a restaurant and bar on the way to the recovery site. The parking lot was enclosed on the water side by a low concrete block wall. It would not have been difficult for an average guy to lift an average sized woman over the wall. I had assumed that the woman was average size.

“The woman, they fished out of here, wasn’t especially large was she?” I asked.

“Pretty average I would say,” Jane replied.

“Thanks, I couldn’t for the live of me remember that part of the autopsy report.”

“They say the memory is the first to go,” she suggested.

“It isn’t.” I said with a laugh. “It’s the legs.”

I sat quietly until she said, “We should be right on top of where they found her floating. Some guys on their way fishing saw her.”

“So we are about a mile north of the restaurant,”

“Yes but there are plenty of houses with lake access around here as well.”

“I guess you are right. So where is the campground from here?”

“Two miles north west of here. Why?”

“Just trying to figure out where she might have gone in.”

“She didn’t go for a swim chief, she was strangled then dumped.”

“Well that’s true enough. She wasn’t just strangled it was with a ligature. That is the kind of killing that is planned at least a little. Spur of the moment it’s done with the hands. Okay I have seen enough. It’s a little chilly on the lake.”

“Chief, you are going to need long johns if you plan to go out on the lake,”

“I suppose I’ll have to put them on my list. At least the uniform coat is pretty warm.”

“Yes it is chief, but it is so damn green.”

“Not your best color?”

“I look terrible in green. Not to mention how my legs seem to dangle out the bottom of that heavy parka.” I had to admit she had a point she probably looked like a chicken in the heavy parka. “Which is why I wear two sets of thermals and the lightweight jacket in the winter. I just hate that parka.”

“I think the parka is going to be my best friend,” I suggested.

I got home around six that evening with the pizza in tow. I immediately put it into the frig’ since Jay jay liked it cold. I had time to watch Jay Jay on the evening news. She was a little long in the tooth compared to the national new anchors, but in my opinion she was better looking than a lot of them. She looked more approachable which would be better suited to the regional all news channel. There catch phrase was All the local news from around the state, when you need it.” Jay Jay was at the station all day recording news events. When she left at five, the just reran them until the next morning.

If I missed her show at six, bits and pieces of it would be running all evening and all night. Jay Jay was quite the local celebrity. The dump job at the reservoir was long past being news. It would remain in limbo until something new came up. That most likely would never happen, but I was enjoying the intellectual pursuit of the unknown mooch.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

2010-10-05T09:27:00.001-07:00

The day was slow as I expected almost all days with the park rangers to be. That was most likely why it was filled with old men and anorexic women. They were more security guards, than sworn officers of the law. They did however have the power of arrest not in the parks but in the whole city. They had that more to hold the mooch till the real cops arrived, than to deal with infractions of the law. Everyone agreed that those actions were best left to the real cops. At that time even I agreed. I fully expected it to change before my two years were done, but slowly.

I managed to get down to the police station to get a copy of the file on the dump job, as I had come to think of it. The file wasn't all that thick,which led me to believe it went cold quickly. From the crime scene crew's notes I got the exact coordinates of the body when it was discovered. I made a note of them.

I also got the approximate time of death from the autopsy report. I did some math as to how long the body was in the water. The dumpee could have been in the water almost two days. It would depend on how long after death she was pushed into the reservoir.

What I wanted to know was could she have been tossed from the campground. Would the body have made it a half mile from the campground to the pickup spot in a lake with no real currents. The water moved from the feeder creeks to the overflow, which fed the family park with all the attractions. That movement was the only current and it should have been insignificant.

I had to admit I just didn't know enough about the science. What I lacked in science, I made up for with organizational skill. I figured a specialist would need the current rate as small as it might be, the wind speed and directions during that time, and a good map of the lake to work with.

So before I began looking for an expert, I worked on assembling those things. I called the water and sewer chief engineer. When I finally got him on the line I began with, "This is Chief Burke with the park rangers, yes I promoted myself, I need to know the rate of flow in the city's upper reservoir and marina."

"I have it somewhere. can I get back to you in a couple of hours?"

"That's fine just call the office at the marina they can take the information, if I'm not available." I suggested. "Oh one more thing, if the rate of flow varies, I will need to know the factors involved."

"Sure I can tell you now, it will depend on the amount of rain in the last 3 months. More rain the more current. I can get you a copy of the current chart broken down by rainfall. I have it somewhere on the computer. Give me your email address."

"Hold on, I'll get it for you." Maybelle provided the email and I passed it on to the city's hydro engineer. Maybelle also arranged for me to change the password on the account.

While I waited for the chart of current flow in the reservoir, I convinced Jane to stop by and pick me up again. Once in the car I asked, "Do we have a boat with GPS?"

"Sure our power boat has that," she informed me with great pleasure. Jane liked being a teacher and guide.

"Okay let's get it and go see the pickup site for the dump job last spring."

"We don't need GPS for that, I have been there a couple of time helping with the evidence search."

2010-10-04T13:59:00.001-07:00

By Monday morning I had worked out my plan for the park rangers. Since I had old men and anorexic women in uniform. I decided that it was best that they do just as they had done all along, just as little as possible. The one change I did make was to insist that the dispatcher try me before she called the duty ranger. If I wasn't doing anything, I would handle any night calls myself. If the call became an emergency, I wouldn't have to feel bad that I let an old man or anorexic woman take the hit.

After I read the weekend logs and incident reports, I called JJ at the TV station. "J.J. it's Burke here," I said to her voice mail. "I need a favor how about giving me a call. You know the number call the cell phone."

It took about an hour but she did return my call. "Burke you calling me at work, did they finally fire you?"

"Not yet, but it might not be much longer. There just isn't anywhere lower they can transfer me."

"Well if you aren't in the hospital, and you aren't on the street, why the heck did you call me at work. Do you want to do lunch?" She laughed at the very idea of it.

"Tell you what, I'll take you to lunch, if you do me this favor."

"Oh what kind of favor is it. It must be really important for you to risk being seen with me."

"That's not as big a deal as it used to be. I don't think park rangers catch hell for their pillow talk with reporters."

"Yeah, so what do you need?" she had turned serious suddenly.

"I need everything you have on a dump job out at the marina last spring."

"Hey I did the initial report on that is there something new?"

"Only thing new is that I want to review the case file. I want to see the news coverage before I get the police file."

"Didn't you see it all at the time?"

"No I was working vice at the time. I heard about it but I had no contact with the case at all. I do know it went cold."

"Yeah cold because she was a local. If she had been a tourist, they would have worked it till hell froze over. It was during the time that the Mayor was trying to increase the size of the trade shows. He said the town could take in a few million more, if the tourist had a better impression of the place. That and if the citizens would vote for him again, of course."

"Of course," I said in agreement.

"I'll have Eddie make you some copies and put them on a DVD. I can drop it by tonight."

"That would be great, bring your notes as well. I know you found out things that didn't make it on air."

"I hate that you know me that well. Okay notes it is, and for this I want the deluxe pizza not the two topping one."

"Garbage can pizza it is. I'll pick it up and stash it in the refrig until you get there."

"You know I only do the six o'clock news now."

"Then you check the reaction of the focus group and then you set your appointments for the next day. If you get to my place before ten I will be shocked."

"Yeah, you do know me."

2010-10-03T08:50:00.001-07:00

I got my first look at the park ranger staff that afternoon. It seemed that all of them found an excuse to drop by the marina office. The marina was where I chose to make my office. It was the newest of the parks, and it was adjacent to the campground. Most of the problems I had seen came from the campground.

The rangers were a sorry looking lot in general with only one exception. There were eight of them to cover two shifts and to cover then after our calls.

As they drifted in I assured each of them individually that I expected any changes to be for the better. I was willing to discuss any change I made with them before I implemented it. I hoped that we could work things out before they went to Melton but I also understood that personal differences would wind up on his desk. I hoped that there wouldn't be any, but expected that there would be.

Most of the rangers took it with good grace, not all but most did. I noticed a couple of the guys seemed to feel slighted somehow. I couldn't quite understand, since there had never been a position like mine and most likely they would keep it after I was gone. One of them was likely to be the next supervisor of park security.

"I have a question," a morbidly thin women stated.

"Shoot," I said it since we were alone in the office. No sense waiting for a crowd to form.

"I hope you don't expect us to be cops. We pretty much suggest compliance with the rules, then if we don't get it, we threaten to call a cop. As a last resort we do call a cop."

"I totally agree with that policy, unless the mooch comes at you swinging. In that case I want you to put his ass in the hospital. Even if it's only to have the pepper stray washed from his eyes."

"I can agree with your policy in that case."

"Good then we see eye to eye on it. One more thing, when you call the cops, you also call me at the same time." She looked a little like she wanted to say "Whatever." so I added, "That isn't a suggestion. There will be a memo to that effect." I scribbled a note to send a memo. I hadn't even thought of it before.

"Since you are in uniform, I assume you are the duty ranger at the moment."

"Yes I am." she replied.

"Good then you can take me on a tour of the parks tomorrow and I will take you to lunch." We arranged to meet at ten the next morning for the tour.

I passed the evening with a bottle of Jack Daniel's and My computer set for old TV shows.

As usual I skipped breakfast the next morning and drove to the marina. My office was no more than a janitor's closet with a window. At least that seemed to be the size to me. It was okay since I didn't plan to be in it often. I was a beat cop and planned to be a beat ranger.

Jane arrived promptly at ten. The first place she took me was a large recreational park with a few of rides and picnic tables. It also had a swimming pool. The pool was a problem spot she informed me. Usually the calls there went directly to the city police.

"Those calls usually are serious. The police response time is better and they are better prepared to cope with that kind of issue."

"That sounds reasonable, since I don't want this to be anything but a peace keeping force. I'm not looking to turn you guys into a swat team." She seemed relieved by that pronouncement.

From the lake front park, we drove to several of the small city parks with baseball fields. "There was almost never a problem call with these parks. Usually we make an appearance at the picnic shelters just to show the uniform. Sometimes we get a call from the 911 dispatch, if there is a disturbance but usually they go to the police patrol officer. Sometimes we write tickets in these small parks for open bottles of beer and wine."

She also drove me to the city golf course and tennis complex. "We have jurisdiction here but seldom do anything at all. Once in a while we write a ticket for open alcohol containers here as well. That is usually in the parking lot. I personally have never been past the parking lot. I never had any need to do so."

We stopped for lunch before we went to the campground. I don't think she expected steak or anything, but she seemed disappointed when I directed her to the county fairgrounds. Since it was Friday the vendor wagons were working the flea market. I had her stop near Charlie's Hot Dog Stand. That was the name on the side of the trailer.

"Charlie, give us two dogs with everything and two cokes." I turned to Jane, "Is that okay with you?"

"Sure but I am going to tell everyone not to expect anything when you take a girl to lunch."

"Oh well I thought you had already been warned." The dogs came on a square piece of cardboard. The cardboard was most likely recycled from a box of some kind. Charlie did cover it with something like waxed paper but much thinner. I carried the dogs and Jane carried the cokes. We used the hood of the ranger car as a stand up table.

"Wow this is a great hot dog. I never had one with so much crap on it," Jane said.

"I know and the chips are home made. Probably why the hot dog is two and a half bucks."

"Well it is worth it for sure. Is he here every day?"

"Just on Friday. Believe it or not, he has a web site with a list of his locations for the week. People actually check it out to follow him around."

After the standup lunch, we drove to the campground. The area had 50 sites that could accept a trailer with water and sewer connections. The other fifty sites could handle tents or small campers but they had no water or sewer connections. There were water faucet every twenty yards along the access drives. If you didn't spring for the fancy sites, you carried your own water and used the community bath house. Every space did have electricity, so even the tent campers had power.

Open campfires were forbidden, but there were elevated charcoal cookers at every site. All in all it was a very nice campground. "We get a few disturbance calls out here. Usually it's during one of the trade shows. Some of the people who attend those tend to be heavy drinkers."

"Yes I know we see a lot of hotel calls during the shows. Everything from drunks giving the clerks crap to rape. those things might bring a lot of money to town but they are a major pain in the butt."

"Did Maybelle tell you about the dumped body in the reservoir?"

"Yes she did. Why was it during a show?"

"We found it after and on the other side of the lake, but the time it went in could have been right after the show. They don't all leave right away. The guys who stay here are mostly the setup people. They also stay to take the show down."

"I assume from what you say they didn't catch the killer."

"Didn't you know?"

"I was a patrol sergeant. I didn't keep up anyone else's cases, mine were plenty."

"No, they never caught anyone."

Maybe I would find something to play around with while I waited out my retirement after all. Catching a killer was a nice fantasy, but highly unlikely.

2010-10-02T14:01:00.000-07:00

The last story just never spoke to me enough to finish so I'm moving on. It happens often when I write. The false start syndrome.

So this is the new one.

...................................................................................
Ranger

"So you're the new guy?" The question came from an at least forty pound over weight young woman.

"Yep. I'm the FNG. My name is Michael Burke, but you can call me Mr Burke." I replied.

She ignored my attempt at formality and just jumped right in. "Well we sure have heard a lot about you. Did you really beat the crap out of the mayor's son?"

I didn't quite know what to say, The chubby chick was at least open and direct. I would probably have liked that, if she hadn't directed it at me. "He said I did," I replied.

"They say anyone else would have been fired."

"I heard that to," I hoped she would get it all out so the rest of the people working at the city ranger's office wouldn't be asking. Telling it all once was more than enough."

"I suppose it would have been hard to call you the city's greatest hero in March, and fire you in June?" she added.

"I suppose dating a TV reporter didn't hurt either." I said it so she wouldn't have to.

"I guess that is true." she agreed. She went on, "Friend of mine on the force said, 'Don't try to be his friend, but if shit happens out here find him and glue yourself to him.'"

"Oh does shit ever happen here?" I had expected to do the next two years riding around checking campsites and then to retire gracefully. It was the deal the chief and I had made.

"We get a mean drunk now and then. Had a couple of drownings and even a body dumped in the lake last spring."

"Sounds like an exciting life you have here."

"Well the city cops do most of the heavy lifting. If it gets nasty, we just back off and call them."

"Yeah, I was out here on a domestic a while back. Nothing worse than a man and wife having a beef in a twenty foot camper."

"It does seem to upset the neighbors," she agreed.

"So is there a park ranger to show me around." She probably guessed that I wasn't thrilled with the new position in which I found myself. I managed a lateral transfer from patrol Sergeant to head of the park rangers. I didn't lose any pay or any of my accrued time for retirement. Of course the job had been created for me since the rangers had previously been supervised by the parks and recreation department. In theory I worked for the parts department as well. The truth was I pretty much would be working on my own. It was up in the air as to whom I would report to. At least it had been all the last week.

"I got a call from Bruce Melton this morning first thing. He wants you to report to his office at the parks and recreation department. You do know where that is?"

"Sure in that old school on Elm street," I replied.

"Yes that's the one. There is a car assigned to you in the parking lot." She placed the keys on the counter. It's the only one out there. When You get back I can show you your office and call Jane in to show you around the park."

"Sounds like a plan."

"By the way, just so you know, I don't work for you."

"That's fine." I replied as I headed for the parking lot. I turned back at the door to add, "In that case I'll make the call for the duty ranger to come show me around, when I get back. If you have a list of all the rangers and their home phone numbers, just leave it on my desk please. If it's not too much trouble, that is." Yes I was sarcastic with her. If she really wanted to have a pissing contest, I would be happy to play along.

Bruce Melton was a kid at least ten years younger than me. I had worked for younger men before and found them a pain in the ass. It had to do with their needed to prove themselves to me. Melton was no exception.

"We haven't exactly worked out how this relationship will work, but I expect that you will cooperate."

"You can expect anything you like, but I will do what I have to do. One of the things I will not do, is to do nothing at all. So don't worry, I'm sure I will be a pain in your ass, like I am everywhere I go." I did smile when I said it.

"I'm sure we can find things to keep you busy for the next two years."

"Oh I am sure you can. I think when you get around to figuring out how things work, you are going to find that I am solely responsible for security at the various parks, you are responsible for everything else in the parks."

"The rangers have always answered to me," he said indignantly.

"And I'm sure when I retire they will again, but in the meantime the will report to me and I will keep you in the loop."

"You understand that you work for me," he said angrily.

"And you understand that I am here as a representative of the police department and the Mayor's office." Okay it was bullshit, but it worked to put a little fear into him. Kids, you gotta love them. They intimidate so easily.

I wondered how long it took him, after I left his office, to make the calls to city hall. It would be even more interesting to know who he called. I doubt that he called the chief of police or the mayor. He wasn't high enough up the food chain to question them. Most likely he called the city manager. If he did, he probably got the old give him enough rope speech. I seemed to be collecting rope from everyone. That god for the civil service board. I was so close to retirement that I would have to kill the mayor in the McDonalds parking lot at noon, to get fired. Mostly it was because the feds were looking into the firing of employees everywhere who were almost eligible for retirement. Some companies and even cities were trying to use it as a cost cutting tool.

The truth was that I was pretty safe, as long as I didn't punch the little prick. I was pretty sure he had been told to keep a black book on me. When my twenty came around, they would sit down and use it to force me into retirement. At the moment the score on me was tied. Three commendations for bravery and good police work and three complaints. Not a bad score unless the last complain was from the mayor. Seems he didn't like the fact that I refused to lose his son's DUI arrest.

To be honest, I threatened to have my girl friend do a piece on the event, if he got any special treatment. I think they knew that it wasn't an idle threat.

2010-09-09T04:45:00.001-07:00

"Did you have any kind of relationship with her, other than dealing with her about the bike?"

"None whatsoever," I replied truthfully.

"Then tell them the truth. If it looks like they are going to compromise you call me before you do anything else."

"Fair enough," I replied, then rang off.

I rode my Rhino bike to the shop. I chose it over the fancy expensive bike, because I had a lot less invested should I have an accident with it. Also it was more fun because it got noticed. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that it was a power bike.

When I got to the shop, I checked to make sure everything was where I had left it the night before. The bike builder wasn't due in until 10 A.M., so I had the place to myself. I rounded up all the paperwork and computer records of the transaction with Lucille Monroe. There weren't many, just a few emails from her about the bike. There was the original sales contract and a receipt signed by her for the return of her money for the purchase price of the bike.

As a matter of fact the bike was still in the showroom. I had planned to put it into the rent/lease program but just hadn't needed it so far.

In my record search I realized the one things I didn't need was a through search of my records. It was in my best interest not to be a person of interest in her death. I hoped that there were some real leads. I didn't need to only person she ever pissed off.

2010-09-08T10:08:00.001-07:00

"Hello," I said into the phone. I knew I sounded irritated because I was. I had answered the phone a dozen times while trying to spray paint a bike frame. I had decided to make a couple of stealth bikes, so I was spray painting them urban camo. Three different shades of gray went on one bike and the other had brick red and mortar gray colors.

"Nice, I hope you don't plan to sell many bikes with that attitude," the voice replied.

"If I don't get back to work, I won't have anything to sell. So what can I do for you?" I thought the voice belonged to Jengin but I wasn't sure.

"Your name came up in an investigation. I wanted to give you a heads up. I don't think the Ds will be talking to you but just in case, you might want to get your records together."

"What records?"

"You sold a bike to a woman named Lucille Monroe. She evidently wrote you an angry email."

"Yes she did. The bitch wanted her money back, so I gave it to her."

"Get your records and have them ready. Not too ready though. I don't want them to know I gave you a heads up."

"So what are you investigating?"

"Homicide, I can't say any more."

"Geese what happened to her. She must have pissed someone else off with that attitude of hers."

"What attitude is that?"

"She didn't listen to the explanation or read the brochure before she bought the bike. She kept it a month then swore it never worked right. I had one of the other guys check it out since I couldn't find anything wrong with it. She just realized that she couldn't ride it to work everyday. It does rain down here now and then."

"Well, I don't think I would call her a bitch, if the Ds come around."

"I probably won't. Thanks for the heads up."

I was on the phone to Cindy within five minutes. "So they probably won't come around but if they do, how do you want me to handle it?" I asked.

"I have to ask Eddie. Did you have anything to do with this mess?"

"Hell no."

2010-09-06T10:54:00.001-07:00

I figured most of the bike riders wouldn't mind doing a little pedaling so I could get away with a smaller motor and lighter batteries. Truth is the bikes were just a toy in anything but almost perfectly flat areas. Coastal areas and the great plains were perfect for Ebikes. Just about anywhere else and they were a pain.

I was happy to sell the toy kits all over the country, but I knew in my heart they would be used seldom except in the area previously mentioned. Still it was a start in the new year in a new direction. 'The League of Old Men,' as I called my workers, were very careful builders.

One of the Old men was a retired welder. He cut, drilled and assembled the frame of the drive. The second was an old bicycle shop mechanic who was bored to tears sitting at home. He assembled the motor drive wheel and frame. He then fitted it to a bike, and rode it two miles. If it checked out, he disassembled it and packed it for shipment. The third man was a retired office worker with a big trucking company. He took care of the orders and shipping. They didn't really need me except when one of them was sick. I could fill in for anyone.

I sold the kits on Ebay and Craig's list. By the spring of that first year, I was doing more in kits than in bicycles. I didn't make a lot of money, but I could sure laundry at lot through the business. To laundry the money, I just built a bike on paper and sold it for the top price and then sold it to a tombstone buyer. After I had the buyer's name from the obits, I just figuratively pedaled the bike off a cliff. It seemed to be working pretty good to add a grand ever couple of months to my take.

With spring came the return of the tourist season and the custom bike sales and rental business. That second year it was bigger than ever. I kept busy and was having a grand old time. I built bikes. fished a little, and hung out at the Holiday Inn's ocean side lounge on Wednesday nights.

I hadn't had near as much fun over the winter as I was having during the spring of that second year. I had fished, arranged for the building of bike motor kits, and went out with Jengin. She and I began sleeping together just after Christmas but I was a disappointment. I should have stopped after the first time, but I swear I thought it would get better.

The expression, "The worst I even had wasn't all that bad," fitted Jengin to a tee. She was usually hammered when we slept together and pretty close to catatonic. I was thrilled to see that she and I both got busy with the start of tourist season. It was almost a blessing that she had less and less time for me.

2010-09-01T12:01:00.001-07:00

Three weeks later the Marshall program counter signed a note for one hundred and forty seven thousand dollars and change. When the papers were all signed, I took possession of another falling down Monkey Junction building. I found a contractor willing to do the minimum repairs necessary for the building to be habitable for seventy five thousand dollars. The Marshall service underwrote that loan as well.

What the Marshall service never knew is that the contractor and I worked out a deal. I paid him cash for anything above the minimum repairs. The base contract was to repair the roof, the carpentry, and replace the doors and windows with contractor grade materials. I explained to him that I wanted a steel doors with a spy hole in ever unit. The code required a second entrance which really wouldn't have been a problem since each unit after being renovated would have a living room kitchen combination and a bedroom bathroom. In other words one of the new units would be two of the old motel rooms. My unit of course would be the old office and one of the adjoining old motel rooms. The way it worked out I had one end unit for storage.

In what was the bedroom unit I had the contractor close up the front door, and add a rear door. It was an unnecessary expense but one I paid for myself so no harm no foul to the government. The contractor and I agree that no one needed to know about the very large over run expenses. When I finally got the units ready to rent after two more months it was Christmas in Monkey Junction.

To celebrate my new digs, I decided to have a Christmas party at the shop. All my employees were invited, that was a total of none. The two fabricator /subcontractors and their families got an invitation of course, all the local people who had bought bikes from me got an invitation. I was surprised to find that I had sold a dozen, give or take one or two, high end bikes. The moped trailers were a much better selling product. I had sold twenty three of those retail and another fifty odd ones to dealers who resold them to their customers.

The five push trailers I had the fabricators build sat on the showroom floor untouched. I had to push them into the shop for the party. I expected that those would wind up being a game show question. You know, what was the best idea that never sold a unit, kind of thing.

I invited Jengin of course, but she didn't show. I hadn't expected her to. Everyone I did any kind of business with got invitations as well. The employees of the Monkey Junction diners where I ate, the convenience store employees,where I bought my gas. In other words everyone I knew in my new life.

I usually over estimated my popularity, but it seems I underestimated the people of Monkey Junctions love of free food and beer. I can only say that it was a good thing I had located the shop near a grocery store. The family that was doing the catering just kept making trips to the store and adding to my bill as the night progressed. I spoke to a lot of people I had never seen before, but that was okay. It was the only time I expected to ever have a party there.

I shouldn't have been surprised to see Cindy, but I was. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Hey, I'm like the rest of these people I never miss free food and drinks." She tried to smile but I could see that something was on her mind.

"So why the long face?"

"This isn't keeping a low profile Eddie," she stated bluntly.

"I know but these are all local people and this won't make the papers."

"I hope not," was her only reply.

The Christmas party ended at midnight only because we ran out of food and beer. The reason we ran out of everything at midnight, was the store closed at ten. The family who had taken care of the food, presented me with a bill while Cindy was dancing with the younger brother of the man who fabricated my moped trailers. I paid the hefty bill with cash that was till warm from the off shore bank.

"I understand that contractor finally got finished at your apartment building," Cindy said after her dance.

"Yes he did, That's some of why we are partying tonight. I have a new place to go home to tonight."

"I'm coming with you for the grand tour," she demanded.

"Sure, but only one unit has furniture, mine."

"I'll sleep on your sofa."

"No way, you sleep in the bed."

"Where will you sleep?" she asked.

"Anywhere you want me to sleep."

2010-08-27T14:33:00.001-07:00

She was gone when I woke up Thursday morning. I can't say that I was disappointed, since I didn't remember anything about the night before after we left the bar. That being the case, I knew nothing had happened. Falling asleep on a woman was a little rare, but I had done it before, so I didn't go looking for a shrink.

What I did go looking for was breakfast. A chrome and glass waffle joint came to mind. I hate those chain monstrosities most days, but that morning it seemed to fit my hangover mood. After the waffle and lots of black coffee, I felt more like myself.

Back home in Monkey Junction I was on the prowl for a new home. I had looked at several houses and found them far from acceptable. They were all just plain and small, but worst of all they were mostly landlocked. Not locked away from the ocean. I accepted that since I already knew that was the required life style for at least a couple of more years. No these little houses just couldn't be renovated so that they were acceptable. There was just no room to add onto them. Even property 20 miles from the ocean was at a premium. I just couldn't justify the expense on paper.

What I could justify was another business expense. I passed a deserted motel about ten times every day. It was on the same bypassed road as my shop and showroom. The building was concrete block with a flat roof. I would have bet all my money that the roof was leaky and probably rotten. There were twenty units and the office each with a single large window and a door.

I stopped one day to take a closer look. Other than finding one small window per unit in the rear, the inspection was a waste of my time. Someone had kept the weeds down, so that the abandoned building didn't appear to be in ruins. Still it was pretty ratty looking.

The small sign in the office window had the name of a realty company and a phone number. I used my cell phone from the parking lot of the motel.

"Mabe realty," the female voice on the phone informed me.

"Good morning, I'm standing in the parking lot of an abandoned motel in Monkey Junction. Since your sign is in the window I decided to give you a call. Can you hook me up with someone who can give me the asking price please." I had expected the phone to be answered by a receptionist.

"I can do that, the price for that piece of property is 200k as is." she informed me.

"Well I own the bike shop down the street. I can tell you that it is going to be sitting there a long time at that price. Thanks for taking my call though."

"What kind of price did you have in mind?"

"I don't have one until I get a look at the interior. But I can tell you right now it isn't 200K. It wouldn't be any more than half of that, so no since wasting each other's time.

"Can't hurt to look," she suggest

2010-08-24T04:46:00.000-07:00

Even though Wednesday night at the Holiday Inn had changed, it was till a place I visited every week. I guess I had become a creature of habit. I chose Wednesday as my one weeknight out.

I pretty much stuck to my routine even though the tourist no longer crowded the streets. Riding the bike around Wrightsville Island didn't produce nearly the calls it once had. Most of the calls I got were from people who saw my webpage. I got a lot more email than phone calls by that time.

I had been house hunting all day, so I needed the drink I ordered at the Holiday Inn's bar. Even though it was Wednesday night, the lounge was almost empty. I was about halfway through my first beer, when I heard the voice.

"Okay bike builder on your feet," I looked up into the bar mirror. I saw Jen gin standing behind me.

"I do hope this is a joke?" I suggested.

"Yes, but it always gets a man's attention.."

Tight jeans work just as well. The guy doesn't go to the bathroom and never come back nearly as often with my method." I did say it while smiling. "So how is the Holden Beach PD?"

"Boring, I want to move to a bigger town."

"Oh really, what do you have in mind, New York."

"Not that big, I was thinking Wilmington."

"You should do that," I replied.

"I just need one big bust to get noticed," she suggested.

"I can't help you."

"Too bad you aren't a big time coke dealer."

"My banker probably feels the same way." I waited in silence while she took a seat at the bar. Then I waited while she ordered a drink, which I paid for of course. "So what brings you out on the town tonight?"

"Saying goodbye to the tourist season," she replied.

"Is this a celebration, or a wake?"

"A little of both. From now until spring break, Holden Beach will be a ghost town. All the retired cops in the area, who work there in the summer, will be gone. It will be back to two officers on patrol with nothing to do but try to keep the locals from putting kitchen knives into their spouses."

"Sounds like total boredom with a shot of terror now and then," I admitted.

"Yep," she said sadly. There just didn't seem to be anything in her future but coffee and donuts until spring. She didn't need too many more donuts either.

"You should get a bicycle to fill your time. Riding up and down the beach roads would be good for you. Tune up the old heart, kind of thing," I suggested.

"You just happen to have one right?"

"Go to the downtown flea market in Wilmington on Saturday. Tell the owner that Eddie sent you. He will fix you up at flea market prices." She looked at me questioningly. I sell power bikes not pedal ones. You need to pedal around over the winter. It will be good for you."

One drink turned into five. "I'm going to check into the motel tonight. The rates are down, and I have had too much to drink." Flashing her badge might get a buy on a driving under the influence, but it wouldn't help me any. I could just hear Cindy going off on me for being arrested. "You are welcome to spend the night no strings attached."

"Do you do this often?" she asked.

"I came down for two drinks and to relax. The rest just happened, but fifty bucks for a room is better than a night in the drunk tank. The local police have nothing better to do than stop people driving home after midnight, just to be sure they aren't DWI."

"That is true, we do it in Holden Beach as well. Okay, but no tricks, I have a black belt."

"Then why aren't you wearing it?" I asked being my usual smart assed self.

2010-08-21T12:29:00.001-07:00

The first chill, such as it was, came to Wilmington NC. a few months after I settled in. It didn't take long for me to realize that I needed a better place to live than the camper. It wasn't the space, even though I did need more of that as well, it was the air leaks that got to me. A drafty trailer in the summer was nice enough, but a drafty trailer in the winter was going to be a real SOB.

With that in mind, I began thinking about a place to settle. Even though the e-bike and moped trailer sales surprised me, I hadn't been able to laundry enough money to justify a house on the ocean. At least not one which would comfortably handle the winter weather.

My plan was to find something to buy far enough from the ocean so that it would appear that I could afford it. I also wanted something I could turn over, when I had enough cash flow, legal and ill gotten gains, to justify a ocean front place. The Marshall's witness protection detail was still watching me, so I dared not dip too deeply into my off shore cash.

"Cindy, how's my guardian angel doing?" I asked it with what I hoped was a smile in my voice.

"I have no idea, but I'm just fine. What's your problem today?" she asked.

"The weather down here is about to change hon. I need to start looking for a winter home."

"What, you want to leave where you are?"

"Not the town or the business, but it's time to get out of the trailer. I need to get into something a little more permanent."

"Why hurricane season is over and you are still there?" she had that twinkle in her voice so that I knew she was smiling. "You should be good till next summer."

"It has to do with comfort. After all I'm not getting any younger."

"Thirty-five is not old."

"Thirty-three," I said to correct her.

"So what do you need from me."

"I need you to arrange the financing on something that I can afford."

"Eddie, you have been in business three months, there is nothing you can afford without our stipend."

"Yes but I can't explain that income to a bank, but you can."

"Find something and send me the numbers. I will see what I can do to get you a loan with a low or no down payment."

"I might have to arrange some kind of deal with you for the down payment as well." I didn't have to at all, but I really did want it to look legitimate. I didn't want Cindy asking questions either.

I figured the thing to do was to buy a house through the Marshall service, then have my own little company buy up the mortgage and just pretend to pay it. I could buy something inexpensive and then have it renovated for cash, I could get a nice house with a mortgage that looked affordable on paper. Yes it was a shell game but I didn't mind a little misdirection I had made a living doing that. I new how to manipulate the shells, but II had learned how to make the shells in the Federal Prison Camp.

2010-08-19T09:46:00.001-07:00

I made a mental note to always come to the Motel on Wednesday nights from that time forward. I asked several of the ladies to dance until I found one who agreed. She was a very well taken care of blonde on the sunny side of forty.

We actually had fun. A few dances a couple of drinks and a walk on the beach. I didn't pressure her to have sex but it happened anyway. I have no idea why. Maybe for her it was part of her beach experience. For me it was just part of the experience of life. Food, shelter, and sex it was all part of life, as far as I was concerned. One was no more important than the other.

One thing that was pretty scary was keeping an eye on the alarm clock. The child care ended at midnight, so I had to be gone. The drive back to the camper in the middle of the night was no fun, so I moved the Wednesday night idea to a slightly lower position, on my things to do list.

I didn't have much to do, since I was winding down my bike building until I got a feel for the winter demand. I didn't mind the break from building, except that I got bored easily. I spent some time surf fishing and drinking coffee on the pier.

I began to notice an increase in the number of scooters around. Those didn't belong to summer tourist who had rented them for the week, but to locals getting too and from work. More and more I noticed them trying to come up with ways to carry cargo on the scooters.

My little bike power trailer would be a natural, if the motor and batteries were removed. One could transport a week's worth of groceries easily. Since the speeds and distances would be longer the bicycle tires and wheels might not do. At least they would look too light weight. I went on line to do some basic research. I found that I could buy used wheels and tires from the electric scooters very reasonably. I bought one used set on ebay, then I found a new set from an online scooter parts house.

After I made the decision to give it a try, it took a week to get all the parts in and to assemble the first scooter trailer. I made the bed of the trailer with the new wheels resemble a utility trailer by attaching a metal tool box to it. That trailer would have a retail cost of about three hundred dollars. I didn't expect to sell it.

However the one made with the used wheels was my economy model. It had a bed made with a plywood floor and sides like an old cattle truck. That one I marked at half the price of the fancy one. That one might or might not sell. I put an advertisement for them on craig's list.

I got calls about both of them but no one willing to put down the money. Craig's list was mostly about used merchandise at give away prices.

I have to explain a little about my welder at this point. He was an accidental discovery. The retired shipyard worker had done my first trailers but he decided he didn't want to build the same things over and over. Like me he just wanted to do things that he enjoyed. Production work wasn't one of them. From him I learned enough to make a really ugly prototype trailer.

After the prototype I went looking for someone to do the work. I wanted someone who would bankrupt me. I also needed someone who couldn't steel my design and go into business for himself. As I said Hector was an accidental discovery. I saw his rusty pickup truck with an equally rusty portable welder at the one service station in Monkey Junction.

His English wasn't good and my Spanish is non existent but we managed to work out a deal for him to weld a trailer frame just like the one I showed him. I did hope his version had cleaner welds.

From the start I knew he was an experienced welder and metal worker. I had no idea where he was trained or what his emigration status was, I just knew that I could afford him and he did good work. In that respect I was no different from all the other people who hired questionable workers.

I had taken the work to the retired ship builder, but Hector and I worked out a deal. Hector came by my shop and used my cheap welder to assemble my trailer frames. In the process I learned a lot from him. It got so he would call me every couple of days to see if I had any work for him. I began to feel the pressure to keep him working until I forced myself to remember he wasn't an employee. He was just casual labor.

In the second week I took a trailer with the cattle sides to the local scooter dealer. He let me leave it in his parking lot with a sign. It wasn't a gimme, I did have to pay for the space. He didn't want to be a dealer at first. I took orders and Hector and I made custom trailers for gasoline scooter owners. Hector quickly learned how to make the bike trailers and he was a real asset.

If I had the metal cut with the chop saw he could assemble either kind of trailer frame in a couple of hours. I put ads on a couple of moped sites for the trailers as well as on the motor bike forums. It was slow going but I didn't need the money to live so I was content if the business broke even.

2010-08-17T11:15:00.001-07:00

Cindy came to vacation at the beach without her kids. I showed her a couple of restaurants the tourist never could have found. The seafood restaurant served only fresh fish and shrimp. It was every bit as good as the high priced spread. The place had no real decorations unless you count the cooking grease stains on the walls. There were a few cheap prints of the ocean, but they were so dirty they all looks as though they were shot at dusk.

The diner where I ate most of my meals was about a mile from the shop. It too was inside the unofficial town limits of the unofficial town of Monkey Junction. No you wouldn't find it on any map at least not since highway 17 bypassed the crossroads village fifty years before I got there.

The food ranged from a small daily special at every meal, to a plate of food so large that it came on a platter. You dared not order a side of french fries unless your insurance was paid up. On Fridays they did a huge business in take out orders for an item brand new to me, The item was called a collard sandwich.

The collards were cooked in real pork fat, then spread on a fried hoe cake, before the final hoe cake was added to the sandwich, thick bacon was placed on the collards. I would be willing to bet the owner of the place got a kickback from the cardiologist at the local hospital.

Cindy and I shared one of the sandwiches, washed down with large glasses of iced tea. We ate our collard sandwich with a fork. I had seen guys pick them up to eat, but I never was that courageous.

I almost kissed Cindy the night as we walked along the beach, but she moved away deftly. The attempt may be why, when I next heard from her, she was fifty miles up the road headed home. It didn't matter all that much, but she might have been a fun date in another place and time.

The tourist season ended labor day weekend, so during the dog days of August tourist were everywhere. They were trying to get in those last vacation days before the weather started to change and the kids went back to school.

The shop was almost full of completed bikes. I had more than enough going into the winter months, so I was pretty much out of things to occupy my time. The fishing was fun, but it didn't hold my interest. I was a hit or miss kind of fisherman. I might go three or four days in a row then not go for weeks. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I was bored to tears on the Wednesday after Cindy left.

I really hadn't been going out at nights for fear I might do something stupid and attract attention to myself. Since I hadn't really had a night in since my release from the prison camp, I decided to give it a try. It had been several months of drinking alone at home, so I wasn't sure exactly what to do.

I still wanted to be careful not to draw any attention to myself, so I dressed in cotton slacks and a nice clean shirt. I had decided to go to one of the upscale motel lounges on Wrightsville Island. I did everything possible to delay my arrival at the lounge.

I arrived at nine p.m. expecting to find every coupled up and having fun. What I found were about a dozen couples trying to talk over the music. Then there at least a dozen women sitting alone at tables for two.

"Hi," I said to the cute bartender. "I'm new around here."

"Good for you," the cute twenty something bartender replied. "Would you like a drink."

"A draft and some information would be nice." I replied.

"The draft I can do. The information maybe I can do."

"Good," I waited until she returned with the beer before I asked, "Why are there so many women sitting alone?"

"Wednesday night widows," she replied. When it was obvious I had no idea what she meant, she continued. "The motel runs a special. Bring your family down on Saturday, the check out of Friday night before midnight and only pay for five nights. Kids stay in the parents room free."

"Okay but how does that account for Wednesday night widows?"

"A lot of the men bring their families, then go back home to work after the weekend. They come back on Friday to take them home. Mom is stuck in a motel with the kids a week and dad is stuck home working. To keep the homicide rate down, we offer free baby sitting on Wednesday night and a free drink in the lounge."

"Ah, now I get it."

"Well it's a crap shoot, but a lot of guys do get it here on Wednesday night." she added with a smile.

2010-08-14T05:55:00.001-07:00

For the two weeks that I worked on the power trailer, I did nothing else. I did remember to eat most days. When I get wrapped up in a project, I tend to stay with it no matter what. I managed to build all of the bikes I had on hand, before I went to work on the power trailers. That being the case I didn't have anything laying around to break my concentration. I did have to show customers bikes now and then.

The man who welded the prototype was more than willing to build the trailer frames for me. I decided to allow him to build a dozen, by the end of that project I hoped to have learned enough from him to build my own. He agreed to teach me to weld and cut the metal as part of the price for the dozen.

Finding the new sixteen inch wheels was a challenge, but I did find a source for wheels that looked new. The owner of the local flea market had an in with a thrift store chain. He would allow me cherry pick his shipment of bikes, if I agreed to pay flea market price for each and allow him to salvage the bike frames after I stripped the wheels. I had no problem at all with that arrangement.

The welder bought the metal from a salvage yard several miles up the road. The wireless throttles proved a problem, so I cabled a throttle to the trailer. When the trailer was attached to the bike, the throttle cable just had to be stretched to the front of the bike. I wasn't thrilled with the arrangement but it would work. I could always make the wireless throttle an option. The batteries type was an option as well.

With the arrival of the first production model, I began to think about other things. The most important of the other things was having some fun. I was living a few miles from the beach but I did very few things there. I rode the bike along the strand just for the attention but I seldom did anything else.

The least expensive thing to do at the beach was surf fishing. With that in mind I went to visit the flea market run by the man who sold me my bikes.

"You looking for more bikes Eddie?" he asked when he noticed me.

"I think I have enough for now. Tourist season is about over, so business is going to take a nose dive I expect."

"I don't know about that, there seems to be a lot of interest in bikes here. I don't get much tourist trade, so I think it might surprise you."

"I hope so."

"So if not bikes, what are you in the market for today?"

"I'm thinking about trying my luck at surf fishing."

"So you want to get serious about it or just test the waters, so to speak?"

"Just testing it. Before I sink any real money in the project, I want to know that I can stand the solitude."

"That sounds like a good idea."

"So, what do I need?"

"A rod, a reel, a lure and a plastic bucket will do the trick. Come on back and I'll introduce you to Seymore. Seymore has the tackle shop." The flea market was filled with dealers who had individual spaces. The owner leased the spaces and took care of the credit card transactions. He even covered the spaces, if the dealers were not around. He did charge for the service of course.

Seymore was around that morning, so I made my purchases from him. That is I made them after I got a long explanation of the Seymore method of surf fishing. Since I knew nothing about fishing, I just bought what he suggested as long as it was reasonably priced.

What he sold me looked a lot like the fresh water rig I had used as a child but on steroids. The rod I had used as a kid was about five feet long at the very most. The rod I bought from Seymore was twelve feet long and at the base it was about as thick as a small water pipe. Fortunately it came apart into three pieces a little over three feet each. The reel was just a giant open faced spinner reel.

The Seymore rig, as he called it, was a heavy weight and a plastic lure with two feed line between them. The weight held the lure on the ocean floor but the lure also floated two feet above it. Seymore swore that the currents made it appear to be alive. I had my doubts but I bought the whole thing for about thirty bucks, so It seems like a reasonable deal. Seymore even threw in the plastic bucket every fisherman seemed to have.

I would have taken the bike onto the beach, but the sand was far too soft. It would have just been more effort than it was worth. I drove the sedan to the beach. Finding a place to park was a nightmare, but I drove to the end of the island. I found a public car park there. Then I just walked out onto the beach and setup shop. I had seen enough surf fishermen, since my arrival to know I needed a folding chair and a big assed hat.

After I staked my claim to a piece of the beach, I threw in my lure and sat on my folding chair. After a few casts and retrievals I grew bored so I let my mind drift. In my mind I was rolling around on a large bed with a small woman well over the age of consent, when my phone rang.

I answered, "Rhino Bikes."

"I like the name. I'm just checking in on you. Are you staying under the radar?"

"Hell, sometimes I forget who I am. How are things in copville?"

"How the hell would I know, I'm just a glorified realtor," Cindy said. "We never do any cop things in this shop."

"Ah well at least it is nice and safe. You husband and kids don't have to worry about you coming home at night.":

"Kids are teenagers, they don't even know I exist. Husband got remarried to another teenager, which brings me to why I called. I'm going to come down and do the surf and sand thing for a couple of days. It's time for me to review your situation."

"Do I really need a review, I'm a model citizen these days." It was true. I was saving myself for a time when the feds took their eyes off me to start living up to my means. At that time i was still in my beach bum stage.

2010-08-13T04:39:00.001-07:00

I figured the hub motors were best with the lithium battery packs and for those I should charge the most. Preferably something ridiculous.. I also figured that I would look for a less expensive ebike as well. That was the problem. There just were no really inexpensive kits readily available.

The chain driven kits were almost as expensive as the hub motors. There were also other problems with the chain drive. They were noisy and less efficient energy wise. Their advantages were wasted on the flat geography of the area.

I almost gave up until I ran across a comment on one of the forums. The comment was made by a bike builder. He was wondering about the advantages of a push trailer. Since it would be possible to build one that was completely self contained, he wondered it if wouldn't be possible to rig it so that one could remove it completely for storage.

I spent two weeks of my life working on a design to build a trailer that could be easily attached and removed from a common bike. A local welder agreed to build the first trailer and to attach the hitches to the bikes for me. Since he was retired from a local boat building company his price was very fair,.but I wanted to do it myself. I knew that I would need to enroll in the local community college or hang around his shop. I chose hang around his shop.

I wasn't surprised that the prototype trailer cost me as much as a kit built bike would have. I knew that I could get the cost down, if I bought the parts whenever and wherever I saw them laying about. Not to mention I could save the labor by doing it myself.

It took my welder only three days to build and install the first trailer. The hitch had to be welded to the bike, but after that it was a simple one bolt to attach the trailer. All the electronics went onto the trailer with only a wireless remote throttle attached to the bike. That device was from a RC race car.

The whole trailer platform was easy to attach to the bike. The true beauty of it was in the power supply. Since the trailer was self contained the power supply could be the heavier and less expensive lead batteries. The size and weight were less an issue on the trailer.

I picked a heavy framed mountain bike on which to build my first bikes, but by the time I got to the trailer build, my first order of bikes was gone. To test my any bike will do, and since it would be easy to move the trailer to a different bike, I bought a used 12 speed bike from the flea market on the side of the road. I went through and repaired and greased every part of it before I sent it to the welder for a hitch. When the used bike came back, I loaded the trailer into the trunk of my car, put the bike in the carrier on back, then drove to the beach.

The push trailer was an instant hit. I had my cell phone ringing after just a few blocks. I had people wave me down to discuss it. I made appointments back at the shop for people to come ride the bike.

2010-08-09T04:28:00.001-07:00

It took two weeks after the closing before I had my first bike ready to sell. It wasn't great but the kit was easy enough to assemble. It was designed so almost any idiot could have done it without ruining either the kit or the bike. Yes I managed to get it set without wrecking either kit but it was a close call. Even so I was very proud of myself.

I had the good bike rack mounted on the sedan left to me by the Marshal service, so I tried my first ride. I drove the bike to Wrightsville island. I removed it from the bike rack while parked in the lot of Johnny Mercer's pier. The bike went about ten miles before the battery warning light began to blink on and off. To get the ten miles, I had to run up and down the island several times. It got some notice but not as much as I would have liked.

When I got back home, I began researching signs. Since the bike was the draw, I began looking at signs to hang from it. As usual there was nothing being sold that seemed up to the task. So I designed my own.

Designing the sign was more about designing the sign holder, then writing a few words on a piece of cardboard. I knew I wanted something with movement but not something that would get in the way of the bike's normal operation. I settled on a weather vane kind of mount, It was no more than a clamp over the seat post, with a one foot high pole set back about six inches from the post. the post could move inside the holder when the wind blew it. It was supposed to wave side to side.

I envisioned a sign with just the name of the company and my new web address. Con men are pretty adaptable, so designing a website using the host freeware was pretty simple. Since I didn't want to be tied to the site too much, I required the buyer to contact me by phone. After that everything would be done on the phone or by mail or even email. On line sales were by paypal only, for credit card purchase I required telephone orders, checks were to be accepted through the mail, so I had everything covered. I didn't expect to sell anything on the net or by mail but it was an option that would help account for the extra money flowing through my account. I needed a few real purchases to hide the fake ones.

Where I was located the land was flat and the ebike was great. It was a tourists dream. One could convince themselves that they were getting real exercise without breaking a sweat, as my daddy would have said.

I had the second bike with the hub motor finished, when I got my first business call. "Rhino bike company," I said into the cell phone.

"Hi, I saw you on the beach yesterday. I think that is just the coolest thing. How far can I go on a charge and how fast," the woman on the phone asked.

"You aren't going to set any land speed records, but you can probably do about twenty miles an hour. Here at the beach you can probably get ten to twenty miles on a charge, depending on your choice of batteries."

"Do you rent them. We are going to be here a couple of weeks. I would love to have one of your bikes to use while we are here."

I had never thought about a rental, so I had to do some quick tap dancing. "Twenty-five dollars a day. Just leave me your credit card number, like you do at the motel. We will make the charges after you return the bike. Now that is with a lead acid battery pack. If you want the fancy lithium pack it will be forty dollars a day." I explained the benefits of the lithium pack but she decided that she and her husband would need only a few miles a day so they were willing to go with the lead acid pack.

I delivered the two bikes to them. I was surprised that the man didn't demand that I remove the front fender sign, but he seemed to be okay with it. I did take the more expensive rear sign away. When I left they were climbing on the bike for a quick ride down the beach. I saw them ride off like a couple of kids and knew I needed a better battery system. I needed something that could be easily switched out. It would be best if one battery was charging while one was being used.

The answer came from the Internet of course. With the hub motor the 12ah battery pack was good for about five to seven miles at the beach. That is on the flat ground and with a little pedaling, just enough to get it moving from the at rest position.

The three 12ah batteries would fit almost perfectly into a plastic shoe box from the dollar store. It wasn't going to be a problem but to make the batteries an easy change I needed to build trailers for them. It wouldn't look as cool, but it would be the answer for the lead acid batteries. The lithium could still fit on the bike since they were smaller and lighter.

2010-08-06T05:39:00.000-07:00

That's how I met Shelly. We had dinner at 7:30 and sex at 10:00.. In between we talked about this and that. We even managed to walk on the pier on Wrightsville Island. When the sex happened it was a surprise, at least to me. With women one never knows since they are in control of that part of life.

Shelly was a nice just under middle-aged lady. She had blonde hair, and I was pretty sure it wasn't what god had intended. It was far too even to have been natural. Even so it was well done, I supposed.

Shelly was attractive in that skinny washed out country girl kind of way. Yes you can take the Southern farm girl off the farm, and you can put her in nice clothes, and even inside a bank, but she is still a Southern farm girl. I really didn't mind her country girl looks or her rather deep drawl. It was the fact that she was still married that bothered me some.

"Oh my husband is away and he knows I go out with other men. He understands that I get lonely." she said over dinner.

"Oh is he away on business?" I asked.

"Not really, he is in the state penitentiary." I was more than a little surprised by that. I mean she had been a date set up by a cop for God's sake.

"Oh what did he do?" I asked innocently.

"Assault with a deadly weapon. He really didn't plan it, he just lost his temper."

"And how much longer is he going to be away?"

"About five more years before he comes up for parole."

"Well I would appreciate it, if our relationship stays just between us."

"Of course," she answered. "That is also the deal I made with my husband. I would wait for him, if I could see other men. He would never ask about them and I would never talk about them.

Even with the thought a violent felon for a husband, Shelly still managed to keep my interest up. At least she kept something up long enough to get it done....

"What the hell were you doing?" I asked Jen gin on the phone.

"What? you didn't like Shelly?" she asked with that smile in her voice.

"Of course I liked Shelly. I just didn't care for the idea that she has a violent felon for a husband."

"Yes, but it will be years before he is free. Even then, he has a lot more men to get to before he reaches you. At least he does if he works Chronologically." She broke into a laugh.

"Why did you do it?" I asked.

"You looked like you needed it. After all you have also been away. I figured you and Shelly had something in common. I mean you did time, and she is married to a guy in prison."

"Oh you looked me up?" I knew she would so it wasn't a shock.

"I'm a cop, of course I looked you up."

"So next time I ask you out either accept or just say no. I don't think I want you fixing me up again. You have a weird sense of humor." I replied then clicked the phone off.

2010-08-03T08:57:00.000-07:00

I checked with all my delivery people and found that I had only two days to sight see. So I headed up the coast along the not so famous highway 17. I visited three of the best known early towns in North Carolina. They were founded back with river boats were about the only way to get goods inland. The towns all had two things in common. The first was a mostly decaying downtown in the process of being revitalized for about the hundredth time. The second was that each had an almost identical riverside park. From the signs I could tell that the state of North Carolina had sprung for the money to build all of the parks in the same budget. That was long before the fall of the US economy.

Two of the three river towns were being tastefully restored, but the third and smallest of the three looked as thought it had been done by one of those reality TV shows. It was just plain awful. All the wrong colors and way too many of them. Instead of the quaint cobble stone pavers most often used, they had gone for colored in the mix concrete. It was truly a gay decorator's wet dream.

I did find. probably. the worlds best fish sandwich along the way. In one of the small towns, on the main street, within sight of the mouth of a river, I found a small seafood restaurant. Their lunch special was a fresh filet of fish sandwich. Since the fish could vary widely, they didn't specify a type.

Being somewhat adventurous, I ordered it with a home fried potatoes. I ordered the potatoes in hopes that they wouldn't come from a bag of precut frozen ones. The sandwich absolutely lived up to it's billing. The filet was just thick enough to be flavorful, but no so thick that it was too fishy. The breading was light and well spiced. The sauce was mayonnaise based, but not too sweet. It was truly delicious.

I loved the road trip and hated to see it end. On the last day I took a ferry ride to the barrier Islands. It was another beautiful day and great scenery. I had never taken the time to just wonder around, so it was a real treat for me. Life on the run did have it's advantages.

When I got back in town I found a medium sized box sitting beside my door. The mail carrier had left a box of tools unattended. If the place hadn't been a flurry of activity for a while, and the door inside a small alcove, I expect the package would have been gone. Still, there was so little traffic it might have gone unnoticed for several more days.

Inside the box were four sets of wrenches. One was a metric set of box and open end wrenches, one was a sae set of the same type wrench, there was also a set of Allen wrenches, and finally one set of metric in a knife like handle to fit in my pocket. I had bought them on line through ebay. I did it because I knew it would take a while to arrive and I really had no place to store tools until I took possession of the building.

I called the carpenter who had worked on the roof deck repair. The economy was so bad that he was able to come right over. It took him all afternoon to build the work bench which covered the rear wall of the service bay. When he had finished he left me the scrap 2x8s and plywood. I stored them under the work bench.

I went on line that night to get some help determining what tools I needed. I knew how to use simple hand tools, but I had a feeling there would be a need for specialized tools as well. I was right of course. There were special wrenches to make tightening wheel parts easier and special tools to remove crank sets from the bike and a tool to remove the sprocket set of a multi sprocket rear wheel.

Then there were the power tools. There were grinders and cutoff tools. as well as power drills and saws to buy. I found it best to just drive to Harbor Freight and load up all at once on the power tools I needed. Everything bike related, I just ordered on line and hoped I wouldn't need it before it arrived.

On the second day after my return from the trip just as scheduled ups delivered several boxes of used parts, which I had purchased on line. There were three 600 watt scooter motors and the mounts to attach them to the drives. Those all came from an electric scooter repair shop.

A second box held a half dozen used rear wheel assemblies from a much smaller scooter. Those came from a scooter salvage yard of all things. I chose those wheel assemblies because they were smaller than the ones from the repair shop and they had solid core tires. Those two items along with some raw metal from home depot would made my first three bikes. There were more sophisticated kits on the way from china, but these three would be the first to hit the showroom floor.

I stole the design from a guy on one of the bike forums. He didn't mind since he was just an old fart who was in it for fun. By the first weekend in the shop, I had the motors and the electronics ready to mount on a bike. I was waiting for the heavy duty bikes to arrive when I decided to hell with it. I went to three different Wal-mart stores to find three bikes I wanted to use. Since the rear seat, on the sedan Cindy left me, folded I was able to get the bikes back to the shop.

Instead of assembling the bikes over the weekend, I called my cop friend. "Jen gin, what you got planned for today?" I asked.

"Who the hell is this?" she asked.

"It's Eddie, from the palm room." I said it with a laugh.

"Oh the older guy?" I could hear the smile in her voice.

"Yes the one who reminds you of your uncle. You know the one who took your virginity," I laughed out loud so that she would know that I was joking.

"Damn I must have been drunk, If I told you about that." She paused a moment then added. "I'm working this weekend. Actually swing shift so there is nothing I can do for you."

"Too bad, I guess I'll just have to tough it out alone. So when can I take you to dinner. I did promise."

"You promised to ask me out, I did not promise to accept," she said with that smile in her voice again.

"Good point," I admitted.

"I have a friend you might like. She just broke up with her boyfriend. How about I fix you up."

"Aren't you worried about her taking me away from you."

"Can't lose what I never had," she replied.

2010-08-02T15:44:00.001-07:00

"Tell me you aren't making friends with the local police. Eddie that would be a very bad idea."

"I thought you said this ID would hold up to any scrutiny?"

"Of course it will, you might not though."

"Trust me I have been questioned by the best, and I held it together. Besides it was just a lady who happened to be a cop."

"She is also a cop who just happens to have female plumbing, She is always going to be a cop first."

"I'm counting on it," I said hat with a huge smile. "What can be less suspicious than a guy who dates a cop. If I had anything to hide, surely I would find someone else to date."

"You know she will run your background and find the bit you did in the federal prison camp?"

"I'm counting on it," I replied. "Spread the word around that I'm a harmless nerd and they will leave me alone. I don't have any books to juggle, except my own."

"If this goes sideways, you are going to be on the run," Cindy informed me.

"I know and I'm not interested in doing that again. I'm going to be very careful."

"Good, so when will you have the shop open?"

"In a couple of weeks if I keep my nose to the wheel. I probably will do some sight seeing while I wait for the inventory to arrive,"

2010-07-30T09:07:00.000-07:00

I wasn't so sure about the whole beach bum thing by the time the closing arrived. I figured it was still real estate, even it if was a crappy location. Cindy seemed thrilled to have me settled into something. I explained to her about the trailer and my intention to stay behind the shop until I could got the business going.

I didn't want some smart ass accountant finding too much money in my hands. IE the government reward for the Sanchez brothers, or my own ill gotten gains, could send up flags.

"I'm glad one of you finally gets it." she said.

"One of you," I laughed. "Maybe i should get you into a sensitivity training class,"

"I meant one of you witnesses. Most think it's going to be business as usual."

"I think in my case, the certainty of a Columbian necktie, if they find me, is enough to keep me focused. I know I need to stay hidden. It's my ass so it's in my own best interest to keep out of sight both in my real life and with my paper trail."

"Good for you. Do you really think you can sell bicycles out in the country like this."

"No, I think I can make them here, then sell them in town or on the beach. Maybe even on Craig's list. I'm going to have a bike rack put on the rear of the car. A good one, not one of those strap on things, but one welded on by a pro."

"To deliver bikes? Isn't it going to be hard to sell a bike sight unseen?"

"Actually more to take me to a place where I can ride with maximum visibility, I plan to be my own best advertising." Probably up and down Wrightsville Beach, then down to Carolina Beach. I'm going to spend some time in Holden Beach and Fort Fisher as well. I might even go up to Emerald Isle. You know places like that never see these bikes. I think showing the bikes and giving out cheap brochures is the way to go."

"So sign this last page and initial it on the front, then the building is all yours," the lawyer said.

"Mine and the bank." What no one knew was that after a year my little off shore holding company would buy the mortgage and the payments would end. Until then Uncle Sam was making them anyway, so I played along. The first year's expenses were part of my resettlement settlement.

Cindy and I went to a well known but grimy seafood restaurant, located on the inland waterway, for lunch. It survived on the local trade mostly, since tourist wanted a dining experience not good food,

"How the hell did you find this place?" Cindy asked.

"It was recommended by a cop," I admitted.

2010-07-26T16:44:00.001-07:00

I had decided to buy a 25' camping trailer. I planned to park it behind the shop. I could sleep in it until I got my affairs in order. I wanted to get the place up and showing a profit, even if the profit were only on paper, before I bought a house or beachfront condo. It had to do with cover maintenance. I didn't want anyone asking question about me.

I found the trailer on Craig's list. My plan was to move it somewhere down south and have a second beach home. It was comfortable as those tin cans go. I paid six grand for it, but it was only money. I didn't mind that but I did hate the three hundred dollars I had to pay to get the thing towed to the shop.

The shop was due for closing in a week, so I took the chance and stored the trailer on site. If the building fell through I could just pay a few bucks and have the trailer moved. I didn't do anything but have the driver do anything but level the tongue jack. I didn't plan to live in the darn thing until the closing and then only for a few months at the most. Just enough time for it not to be so suspicious me buying a house.

One thing about being in jail with a lot of white collar criminals, it teaches you how to screw around with money. I learned how to make myself a loan for the house I wanted to buy. It would be so clean that nobody would every doubt it. I would just be my own mortgage company. One who never complained about a late payment. Somewhere down the line when the government cut me loose from their assistance, I would just refinance the shop with myself as the banker. Thanks to a couple of guys who made Bernie look like a rank amateur, I could do all kinds of neat things with money and the trail it didn't leave.

I tried my hand at fishing off the pier at Wrightsville|Island. I had a lot more luck at the beer parlor next door. I caught no fish on the pier but I met a heck of a nice young woman in beer joint. She and I seemed to share the same sarcastic sense of humor. There were many nasty zingers floating around the bar that morning.

"Well sorry to do it Eddie, but I have to get ready for work," the almost thirty year old blonde said to me.

"Oh at noon what kind of job starts at noon?"

"None that I know of but it takes me a while to get dressed."

"Oh then you aren't a topless dancer?" I asked.

"Not even close, I'm a Holden Beach police officer," she said flatly. She also stared at me to see what my reaction would be.

"All those years of thinking on my feet had prepared me for all kinds of things. It is probably why I reacted in a positive way rather than a negative one. "Wow, could we play with your handcuffs sometime?" I just knew that it was the right thing to say.

"Oh so original," she said smiling.

"There is a reason why men ask that. We all want to be ravished by younger women."

"And there are plenty who will gladly do it for a price."

"Ah too bad money had to be mentioned. I guess I will just have to dream, since I have no money. Actually I was going to try to borrow enough to pay for these beers."

"No way, I never pay for it." She gave me an evil smile.

"Hell, best I ever had I paid for," I said it smiling. "I can show you sometime."

"Call me," she said writing something on the rear of a business card then handing it to me.

After she left I finished my beer and then I headed for home. Home was still the motel. Fortunately the closing was less than a week away at that point.

2010-07-24T08:56:00.001-07:00

As I was driving toward the motel after dropping Cindy at the airport, I saw a long row of bicycles sitting in front of a very old building. The hand lettered sign painted on the window of the building advised me that it was a thrift store and flea market. Since I had passed the building I had to turn the car around to get a better look.

I inspected the bicycles as if I knew what I was doing. All I really knew was that I didn't want to buy used bikes that looked like used bikes. So of course I didn't buy anything. I sat in the car getting myself ready to leave the parking lot when realized that I had made a terrible mistake by buying the old country store.

No I hadn't bought anything at the thrift store/flea market, but it also hadn't cost the owner a dime to get me in. I had seen his bikes as I drove down the road. He had drive by traffic and I would have none. No wonder the owner of the building had jumped at the change to sell it to me. I was as they say in poker drawing dead. I had no chance to win in that situation.

I would have been depressed except that I really wanted to be a beach bum. The business was just cover for me.

It had been less than 24 hours since the owner had accepted the contract on the building. Even so I drove out to take another look at the building. I was shocked to see the door open and men on the roof. The owner seemed to be trying to do everything at once.

One of the trucks was an Owen's Plumbing Company truck. I found Mr Owens himself checking the toilet and sink. "Hi there, I'm Eddie Wilson the buyer of the building," He just nodded, a man of few words I decided, "So everything going to be okay with the plumbing?"

"Yeah, gonna have to replace the hot water heater and then some drain lines but nothing much to it," he replied.

"Do you have a card, I might need some work done after I move in," I suggested. "By the way, be sure to check that floor drain please." I had plans for that drain, but he didn't need to know about them.

I returned to the motel with the bag from a fast food restaurant. All prisoners in any facility will tell you that they miss cheese burgers from a fast food restaurant most. Even if I had been in a country club prison, I was no exception.

2010-07-22T06:51:00.001-07:00

Since all we could do was wait for an answer to our offer, Cindy and I went shopping. I needed everything so it wasn't a one hour project. I bought clothes, a cell phone, and a small laptop computer.

At least I didn't have to buy a car. Cindy would be leaving me the car with which she drove me to Wilmington. It had been confiscated from someone, so they could run a false paper trail and award it to me for services rendered. It didn't even have to show up in their budget.

The realtor had warned us that the decision might take a couple of days, so Cindy was making plans for a mini vacation. We were headed to the beach on Wrightsville Island, when her cell phone rang. "Hello," she said. I was glad she didn't answer by identifying herself as a Marshall. "That's good news, so when will they have the repairs complete?"

Obviously in the current real estate market, my offer had looked good enough for them to leap at it. I began making plans in my mind as Cindy tried to split her attention between the busy road and the conversation. "Very well, but we will be keeping check on those repairs."

"Well Eddie, you will soon be the owner of a bike shop." she said as she closed the cover on her phone.

"That's good news, I need to make some calls to order inventory," I suggested.

"Not till I swim in the ocean at least once."

"Aren't you going to hang around till this is a done deal?"

"No, but if you need anything at all just call me. The rent on the rooms is on one of our black accounts, so just stay there until you find a place to live. Are you planning to live in an apartment?"

I had always said not to worry I would find somewhere to live after the shop was ready to go. She accepted that at the time. I imaged that since the pretty much set, she would be antsy to get me out of the government paid motel, and into something where I would have to foot the bill.

"No I think I am going to find a way to live at the bike shop." I replied.

"Well you make damn sure you are not in violation of any zoning ordinances. I do not want to have to contract the locals or to pull your ass out of here. You can see that it is a lot of trouble to se these things up."

"Don't worry, I'll figure something out."

"Well I'll be back for the closing so we can work on it then. They promised to close by the end of the month so we will see."

2010-07-18T08:11:00.000-07:00

When I awoke the next morning Cindy was already awake watching the news on TV. She had insisted that I sleep in the small bedroom. I thought at the time that it was because the room was the safest. At that moment I realized, it had been so that she would watch TV. If she slept at all, it was in her clothes on the unmade sofa. It could not have been comfortable. I was sure her sleepless night had nothing to do with protecting me. Cindy seemed to have demons independent of me.

Two hours later she tried to walk me into one of those chrome and glass chain store type restaurants. "No way I'm going to eat in that place," I said as she pulled into the parking lot."

"Oh really, and where do you plan to have your breakfast, because I'm eating here." She made a point of it so as to let me know who was in charge.

"Look Cindy I know you want to be rid of me, so that you can get back to your own life." Actually I didn't know that at all. "So let's say if you start trying to shove things down my throat, I am going to become uncooperative. At the least it will make your life miserable. Why not just go along with me on the stupid restaurants where we eat. I will go along with you on other things."

At first her face was flushed as if she were about to have a stroke. I suppose that after thinking about it, while sitting in the parking lot, she decided that it made better sense than to sit in the car all morning. "Alright where to?" she asked resigned to her breakfast fate.

"Just drive toward the downtown, we are bound to find a better place." We did find a better place. We found Oscar's breakfast house in a strip mall.

The place could have used an oil change before it got a new coat of paint inside. There had to be an accumulation of at least ten years cooking grease on the walls of the dining room. I noted that it had a 99.7% sanitation grade. My thinking was anything over 95% was good enough.

The eggs were perfect, and the hash brown potatoes were crisp on the outside and tender on the inside. Oscar used highly spiced sausage and it too was delicious. Cindy opted for the smoked bacon with her breakfast. She ordered extra crispy and I could tell from the smile she tried to hide that the breakfast pleased her as well.

We spent the rest of that day with realtors and rental agents. Ones who had time to run all over the area showing us abandoned gas stations and grocery stores. Most of them dumped us after the first stop. Then we found one agent who was pretty chubby and sweaty. Most likely there weren't many appointments on his schedule, so except for a two hour lunch break, he spent most of the day with us.

It took a second day before he showed us what must have, once upon a time, been a service station and country store combination. That would have been before the state cut a new road around Monkey Junction. There was no town just a couple of buildings along the edges of the crossroads. The country store service station had one service bay, and a much larger room which must have been the grocery store part. It had only one bathroom, but it was a large room so it would work fine for me. I had hoped for a building in which I could live, but the building I saw would only work for the small business I hoped to open.

"So is this for sale or rent?" I asked.

"Both," the agent replied. "According to the listing information the owner is willing to rent it as is, or will do a small amount of renovations for a sale at full price."

"And what is the price and the rent?" Cindy asked.

"The asking price for the sale with all needed repairs is $95,000. To rent it as is with just minimum repairs, like patch the roof it is leaks, is $700 a month."

Cindy pulled me out of earshot of the chubby agent. "I'm not an expert, but this building is not worth that kind of money either way."

"I am absolutely sure that you are right. It's concrete block is likely from the forties, so it's probably sound enough. The floor is concrete with only one water source so there won't be a lot of floor to break up for plumbing repairs. The roof is wood frame with shingles which is pretty ordinary construction.. There is no ceiling in the shop so I can see how it's made. It has leaked for sure. the ceiling in the store part has water stains. The building probably has country water and sewer, if not those need to be checked and repaired as well. So if I got all that checked an repaired, plus repainting the place, I would be comfortable with a price of say $75,000 for a quick sale."

"Let me get an inspector and appraiser out here before you make an offer. I'm worried about the gas tanks as well," Cindy said referring to the above ground tanks which had been used to store the gas sold by the service station/country store. I was confident that they had been drained years before. Being above ground would make it easier to get them inspected and passed by the EPA.

"Let's make the offer just like that and add price to be reduced to appraised value if it is less. That should satisfy everyone. " It was the best suited of the places I had seen. Being ten miles from town would give me some problems, but I hoped not too many.

So that was the offer I made. The government was going to help me secure real estate and small business loans. My plan was to supplement that with money from the off shore bank. Cindy didn't need to know that part. As far as they knew the twenty thousand in my bank account when I went into the federal prison camp was all the money I had. The feds might suspect more but they couldn't find it.

2010-07-17T15:35:00.000-07:00

I took a good look at Marshall Cindy Tripp as she drove from the parking lot. The Marshall service was obviously generous with their weight restrictions, if Cindy Tripp was any indication. She had to be at least thirty pounds overweight. She was not unattractive but it was in that large woman kind of way. You know all soft and round no corners at all.

During the drive she worked hard to avoid any reference to my crimes. "Since you aren't going to ask about my con of the Sanchez brothers, how do you feel about a political discussion?"

"No politics, no religion, and I know nothing of your background."

"Right?" I said sarcastically. Everyone in the Marshall service seemed to know. My only hope was that they didn't share with outsiders. If push came to stampede, I could always disappear on my own. I had done it previously without the Marshall's help. I expected that I hadn't forgotten how to go about it.

Since it was a boring drive along multi laned roads, and since Cindy Tripp was boring as hell, I passed the drive by napping against the car door. I slept much longer and harder than I had expected to.

"Wake up Mr. Wilson we are here."

Here was one of those modern motels which advertised suites. Sweets were quite a bit different that what I thought of as a suite but hey I could make a sandwich at midnight so I was happy enough. Upon arrival at the third floor suite, I found a two room unit one was a bedroom with a double bed and the other a combo living room and kitchen. The sofa was ugly enough to open into a bed for sure.

I searched the local online multiple listings, while Cindy went for pizza. There were plenty of properties for rent since the real estate market when to hell. I had a list of five addresses by the time Cindy showed up with the pizza.

While we ate she checked out my list. I watched TV while she did the search. It seemed as though the airwaves were filled with cop shows. It had to be a sign. A really bad one to me.

2010-07-15T07:08:00.001-07:00

The hand off didn't come for a couple of more days, so I sat in that tiny little apartment with noting to do but research for my bike project. I figured the first thing I needed was to determine what kind of bike frame would work best, then find a seller.

From reading about five hundred entries on a couple of different forums, I found that a good steel framed dual suspension bike was my best bet. At the final sales price of the bike, I did not want to begin with a cheapo frame. I looked around and finally found a guy who sold a bike called the Mystic Mountain. It was an import from China of course, but it was a step above the department store bikes, or so the reviews all said. It came only partially assembled. The distributor assured me in an email that the assembly was simple and that all parts were warranted by him. There would be no going back to the china manufacturer for parts.

It all sounded good until he mention that the minimum order had to be for five bikes to get the special $125 each, wholesale price. The bike retailed for $200 bucks up depending on the bike shop. If I were to buy ten at a time the price dropped to $105.

Next I had to find a decent kit. After reading another five hundred forum entries I decided to go with a kit from a distributor in Hong Kong, If I bought five kits, which seemed like a lot, but since I had to buy at least five bikes, it would work out, I supposed. Each of the front motor hub kits contained the front wheel, with heavy duty spokes and tire. It also contained a 36volt speed controller and throttle. The price for the kits in orders of at least five was $450 and change.

The real pain in the butt came with the battery packs. There was no question at all, after only a hundred forum entries, that it had to be a lithium battery pack. The 36volt, twenty amp hour pack, which was the most economical size for the bike I planned to build, was going to run me over $600 bucks. I thought that it was a terrible price to pay, but I decided to spring for it anyway.

It looked as though the price of the bike complete would retail for about two grand. It was the price for a rich man's toy not a guy trying to commute to work for a reasonable price. I decided not to decide for the moment.

It was just as well. I got pulled back into the resettlement issue since the handover day had arrived. The drive from Charlotte to Raleigh took about four hours. We met my new handler for in the parking lot of a cheap steak houses by the interstate. I should have asked about the new handler in advance, but I just didn't care. One was the same as another as far as I was concerned.

"Eddie, this is Marshal Cindy Tripp. She will be your new handler." My temporary handler turned to Cindy and asked, "So Cindy how you doing."

"I'm just fine Will, So Eddie, I have your file. I have to admit you are the first client I have ever had who seems to understand the system. That doing time under the new ident was a brilliant stroke. There will be real white collar criminals who know you. It was just masterful."

"Come on Cindy don't get to enamored with our mooch, he is still just a mooch. Maybe he can talk nice, but in the end he is just a cheap grifter."

"Ten million in drug money, doesn't sound cheap to me."

"I lost it all though," I replied.

"Sure," she agreed. "You want to have lunch or move on down the road first?"

"Move on down the road a ways. Your buddy here wasn't all that great a companion, I do hope you will be better."

"I'm just here to help you settle in Eddie, not be your best friend. Still I might be your best friend, if you get in trouble down there."

"I don't expect to do that. My big plan is to be a respectable businessman, and part time beach bum."

"That sounds encouraging, So lets get a move on." She signed a couple of documents then we switched to her car. Just like all the Marshalls, she drove a nondescript car. Hers was a Chevy Malibue. It was new, but completely ordinary in every other way. Right off the lot with just the right number of bells and whistles but no fancy options.

2010-07-14T12:16:00.001-07:00

I fell asleep with the options rolling around in my head. I knew I had to do something for show at least. All I really wanted to do was be a beach bum.

I found the solution to my work dilemma the next morning. I read on line that the push to electric vehicles was on. Electric cars were all the rage in Europe as well as Asia. It looked as though they were about to hit the American streets hard. Since I planned to move to the beach, electric bikes might be a good business. I could at least keep my own hours if I built custom bikes. I had always loves bikes as a kid. The idea wasn't exactly mine, I read a lot about it on several different web sites.

I made the final decision the next morning when I realized that I was tired of take out food. I wanted a place with a refrigerator that had more than ice trays and mustard. I waited until my new handler come into the kitchen.

"Okay Marshall, I have decided I want to build electric bicycles."

"Actually there might be a good market for that in Wilmington. So what do you need from us?" Find me a place to live and build bikes. It would also be nice to have a showroom or something." I suggested.

"Wilson you have to be kidding. You are a white collar criminal, a con man even, What the hell do you know about bicycles."

"I had one as a kid, the rest I can learn. Look your main concern is that I become self sufficient and stay alive. Check with your people and see if the business isn't ready to explode. Especially in a coastal area like Wilmington."

"I'm gonna do that. Yes we want to keep you safe and we don't want to support you for life, but I don't think you have the skill set to build those things."

"I can learn." I replied.

The Deputy US Marshall must have gone directly to the phone, then hidden out in his room until he got an answer. The next time I saw him two hours later he said, "The boss says to find you a place and get you a mortgage and a start up loan. It seems he is a big fan of alternate energy ever since the big boss decided it was the future."

"Well see the big boss and I agree on at least one thing," I said it with sincere laughter in my voice.

"Yeah so what kind of place do you think you will be able to support on such a limited business?" The marshal was laughing at me. Okay I agree that it won't be much of a place but my needs are small." I really meant that I was determined to live a simple life. The five hundred dollar bottles of wine had always been for show. Hell I don't even like wine. A cheap bottle of bourbon is fine by me.

"I'm thinking some building in a reasonably high traffic area that I can build and display bikes. It would be good if I could live there as well. As you pointed out the business probably won't pay all that well." I didn't see any reason to bring up the five million bucks.

"Well I guess you need to go to Wilmington and start looking at real estate."

"Sounds like a good first step. When do we leave."

"Not we Eddie, I work in the Charlotte office. I will be handing you over to a Marshall from the Raleigh office."

"Ah you don't love me any more," I said with a grin.

"You really aren't my type. I'll make the call and try to work it out real soon."

"Good we are beginning to bore each other I fear."

"Beginning my ass, we have from the start."

2010-07-12T15:18:00.001-07:00

2010-07-11T08:18:00.001-07:00

"Rise and shine Wilson we have places to go and things to do. Have you made your decision yet? I need to get the wheels rolling so you can get on down the road."

"You know this is a pretty important step. It isn't something I want to rush into."

"Well let's put it this way. There is a reason that a safe house is uncomfortable. It's to encourage you to make up your mind. In the meantime come on we are going out to breakfast."

"Oh really, I hope I get to choose where we go this first morning of my freedom?"

"Nope International house of pancakes all you can eat pancake day. Hope you aren't dieting."

"Now I know why you are overweight. I am always dieting. You should try it."

"No thanks, time to be miserable when I am old like you."

"Punk," I said loudly.

Actually the pancakes weren't bad but I certainly couldn't do them justice. I enjoyed the sausage though. Good sausage is a treat for me.

The remainder of the day was spent buying me new clothes. I sick of my handler by five. He was young and fashion forward. I was old and set in my ways. I bought mostly work clothes but I did buy one sports jacket.

I managed to get to the library in the late afternoon. I checked to make sure the account numbers and passwords I had got me into the accounts with my money. If I had a local bank account I could have started moving money around. As it was I had $800 from the private post office box in Atlanta. It was more than enough since Uncle Sugar was footing the bills at the moment.

When we got back to the safe house, the punk kid named Charlie asked, "Did you really con the Sanchez brothers out of ten million?"

"More or less," I replied.

"How?"

"I sold them some gold to laundry their money. The gold coins were bulky so I convinced them to buy gold certificates instead. The certificates looked real good, but they were worthless."

"Amazing," he said. "Those guys run one of the five larges coke cartels in the world and they fell for that."

"Yeah," I replied. What I didn't bother telling him was that men who made a lot of money at one thing, always thought they were smarter than everyone else about everything involving money. It just aint so. If you check, you will find that doctors are the easiest marks for that very reason.

I went to be with him still puzzled as to how I pulled it off. I had a partner of course. It was of course the lovely Eleanor. Eleanor worked for the gold bullion company. She arranged the delivery of the first gold sales. After I had the Sanchez brothers hooked, I just printed off the certificates and she vouched for them. It was simple as long as we both knew to get the hell lost afterward.

2010-07-10T15:52:00.001-07:00

"This place is a lot like the place I just left. I do hope moving me on down the line won't take long."

"You wanted to relocate to the coast so we chose Wilmington for you. Small enough for you to adapt quickly but large enough so that no one will pay any attention to a new resident."

"It sounds fine and what do you plan for me to do there. I'm not much of a fisherman."

"Here are a list of the business for sale down there. Pick one and we can help put you in it."

"You are going to buy me a business, nice," I suggested.

"We can make the down payment for you and help you get started but whether you sink or swim is totally up to you."

I scanned the list quickly. There were a lot of building type jobs. The varied from a Carpet installing company, to a home improvement company. I quickly moved on since I had no desire to be involved with real work, not even as the owner of the business. I noticed the absence of bar owner on the list.

"You mean there are no bars for sale in that town?"

"There are but they are not the kind of place you want to be involved with. You never can tell when a friend of the Sanchez brothers might walk in."

"Good point," I kept looking. "You know there is a photo business on the list. I took a lot of pictures once upon a time."

"Well it's a legitimate gig and not one likely to put you in contact with any of your old friends. I can make some calls tomorrow to see what I can do about it for you. But you should keep looking. There might be some things on that list you are better suited for. We have a few more days here before we move you to Wilmington."

"I'm not under house arrest or anything am I?"

"Of course not, but I would like to keep you out of dangerous situations."

"Okay, what about the public library. do you consider it dangerous."

"Not at all, I can give you a ride tomorrow. I drop you off and you can just call me when you are finished."

I slept reasonably well in the strange bed. It wasn't as hard as the bed I had in prison but it was much larger for sure.

2010-07-09T18:34:00.001-07:00

She dropped me at the Airport just outside Little Rock, Arkansas. It might seem like over kill but I didn't mind at all. I had a plane ticket to North Carolina where I would be met by a Marshall would become my permanent handler. Lucy was just a transient custodian for me. Since I changed planes in Atlanta, I found time to pick up my zip drive with the information I would need to claim my ill gotten gains.

It took Less than a half hour for the flight, Of course it took over two hours to get from the Atlanta terminal's entrance doors to the Charlotte terminal exit doors. I made it from the passenger luggage pick up to the terminal exit before my new handler found me.

"Eddie Wilson?" the young man in the well cut suit asked.

"That depends on who is asking," I replied.

"I have your picture Mr. Wilson, so let's not play games."

"Wouldn't think of it. Do you have a car or should I rent one?"

"I have a car in the parking lot."

"I hope it doesn't have government plates. You know just in case,"

"It isn't a government car not does it have government plates. You know we have done this a few times."

"I'm only interested in this time," I replied with a serious look.

"Right, so lets not waste time chatting lets get you out of town."

"So where to?" I asked.

"There is a little place her in Charlotte where we stash guys like you till we can move you down the pipeline."

The little place was indeed little. It was a two bedroom condominium with a living room kitchen combination. It looked a lot like what it was, a safe house.

2010-07-08T05:33:00.000-07:00

"So Lucy where are we headed?" I asked it after a half hour in her convertible.

"We are going home. To be more precise we are going to your new home."

"Oh and where might that be?"

"The jacket is in my briefcase in the trunk. After lunch you can read all about it."

So we are headed north for the next hour or so while I try to guess what is next in my life?"

"Pretty much," she agreed.

"You could just tell me you know."

"What and spoil the surprise, not on your life." She sat quietly smiling for a while then added. "You could tell me where the ten million is?

"I told you I don't have it. Yes I conned the ten mil out of Sanchez but I had it stolen from me."

"And I told you. I don't believe you."

"Well we are at an impasse on the ten mil." I turned my attention to the passing scenery. At least part of what I had told her was true. Eleanor had stolen the money from me. She had also sent me a zip drive with all the information I needed to recover my half from an off shore bank. The zip drive rested comfortable inside a brown envelop, inside box 232 , Box 232 was located inside a mail boxes plus store in Atlanta Ga.

El chose Atlanta because it was the southeast airline hub. I could lay over there long enough to pick up the zip drive and no one would be the wiser. El had decided to disappear into the vastness of Europe. It would be almost impossible for the Sanchez brothers to find her with five mil to use for escape money. They did not have that much influence in eastern Europe. Five mil in some of the old USSR countries would go a long, long way.

I wanted to stay in the USA where the Sanchez brothers had more influence, so I needed the help of the US Marshal's service. That is why El was having dinner in some swank casino in Europe, while I was in a red convertible headed for places unknown. It seemed like a pretty good trade to me. I never cared much for foreigners.

Starting over

2010-07-07T06:30:00.000-07:00

The sun was shining and it was also hot as hell in Alabama on that July day. It was always like that the old timers said, but I couldn't swear to it of my own knowledge. Since it was only my second July in Alabama, I would have to take their word for it. I expected it to be my last one.

My handler had assured me the federal prison camp at Maxwell Air Force base was by far the best of the federal prison. The year I had just finished in the prison was a big part of my new identity. It was a part I had insisted on. I wanted a year to pass without any hoopla, but with also no chance for Pablo or his boys to find me.

Prison with a new name and new identity seemed like just the ticket. From con man to embezzler wasn't all that big a stretch. The year gave some teeth to my new identity. Inmates of the prison camp would remember me and all my stories. As a con man I was very well eauipted to sell the false background cover. I had, for 30 of me 50 year, been a performance artists. I performed daily playing someone else. I had done it so long that the real me was pretty much gone.

The blonde with the small chest and almost no ass at all, waved at me from the parking lot. I recognized her of course. She had been my only visitor in the joint, as we laughingly referred to the prison camp. Her cover name was something I could never hope to pronounce. She claimed to be Russian but that was part of her cover story for the prisoners and guards. She was in fact my federal marshal handler. She didn't much like meeting me in the prison pretending to be girlfriend, but she had gone along.

When my testimony against the drug cartel was finished, I began my new life as Edward Wilson inmate at the federal prison camp located at Maxwell Air Force Base Alabama. Now that my time was done, Lucy was planning to be actively involved as my handler. I did hope she didn't plan to be too involved in my life. I had a lot of time to make up.

"So Eddie, you ready to meet the world again?" Lucy asked in a soft voice. It was the same voice I had heard in the visitors area of the camp once every couple of months during my stay at Maxwell. She had visited me exactly five times.

"I need to know more about you, so that I can set you up with a new life?" That was during her first visit. It was also in response to my "What the hell are you doing here?"

"You didn't think you were going to be abandoned did you. Oh no Eddie, we are going to help ease you into a new life." She slipped me an envelope during that first visit. It contain photos of her and a short biograph of my new girlfriend. I was supposed to use it to sell her to my prison buddies.

Lucy at least didn't drive her company car to pick me up. She had a very nice red convertible. "So did you get this in a drug bust?" I asked it waving my arms toward the car.

"Actually it isn't drug related, but it is an forfeiture. If anyone happens to spot it, and run it back somehow, it will come back to a shell company that used to be owned by a gambler."

"So now you own the car?" I asked.

"And the shell company too. It comes in handy now and then."

"Very nice. So why all the mystery about my new life."

I had no idea what she thought she had learned about me as a person but I supposed I was about to find out in the choices she had made for me. She and her bosses had been careful to give me no details whatsoever. I suppose it was to keep me from leaking them to the other prisoners should I be that stupid.

2010-06-17T14:35:00.001-07:00

"Hello, my name is joy." The woman was just under thirty. She could have been my daughter.

"Hello Joy, what can I do for you?" I asked.

"Sarah Livingston at the shelter suggested I come see you. She said once in a while you help women like me."

"Like you, what does that mean?"

"It means my husband is a violent man. He sometimes hits me when he is drinking."

"Are you living at the shelter now?"

"Yes, I'm afraid to go home."

"Do you have children?'

"Yes a seven year old little boy."

"Do you work?"

"Yes, but I can't afford to pay you. I am saving for a place of my own."

"Do you have a restraining order?"

"Yes, and I have had James arrested. He will kill me when he get out of jail. That restraining order means nothing."

"Actually it does. It means, if he comes for you, he is fair game."

"It won't keep him away, but it puts you on the right side of the law, if things go badly. if he comes after you, kill his ass."

"I couldn't do that," she said with her eyes down.

"If you truly can't do that, then he is going to kill you. Maybe not this time, but someday he is going to kill you. If Sarah sent you to me, she thinks you are serious about ending this thing."

"I'm not going to murder my husband," she said.

"I didn't say murder, but you need to be ready to defend yourself. If that means deadly force, you have to be ready to use it. Otherwise you are wasting my time. All your husband has to do is stay away."

"What exactly are you suggesting?"

"I can teach you how to defend yourself. I can even give you the tools to do it, but I can not give you the will to do what has to be done. If you don't have that, what I teach you will just get you killed."

"I need time to think," she suggested.

"If you come back, be ready to do what has to be done. You need to work out your own reasons for doing it, but be ready to do it."

Two months later an article appeared in the local newspaper.

Carbon City man shot and killed by estranged wife.

James Dunn was shot and killed as he attempted to break into the home of his estranged wife. According to the police report, Dunn broke down the door. His estranged wife shot him with a 12 gauge shotgun. Dunn was pronounced dead at the scene.

There was a long history of spousal abuse according to the district attorney's spokesperson. "Since it was a well documented case of abuse and since Mr. Dunn was in violation of a restraining order no charges will be filed in this case. It seems Mrs. Dunn acted in self defense."

I took no pleasure from the death of James Dunn, but I also did not shed a tear for him. I suppose if the DA were to push it, I might be complicit in his death. I did buy her the shotgun and teach her how to shoot it, just for such an occasion. We practiced the scenario several times. Fortunately she and I are the only ones who know. I doubt that Joy wants to tell.

Flash fiction.

2010-06-16T13:46:00.000-07:00

Just in case you are not familiar with the term. Flash fiction is a complete piece of fiction in just a few hundred words. It is stripped to the bone fiction. So it's like this one...

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

The interstate highway directed most of the traffic away from the old diner. It was still on a US highway but the traffic was mostly local.

I guess that is why the motorcycle pulling into the parking lot got noticed. It couldn't have been the rider, because people were looking out the diner's windows before the rider removed the blacked out helmet to reveal long blonde hair.

With the pitted face, the rider could still have been either sex. It was when she removed the leather jacket upon entering the diner that there was no doubt left in anyone's mind. She walked right up and took a seat at the counter.

"What can I get for you?" the owner asked.

"How about a menu?" she asked.

"That's it," the owner said pointing to a white board with a half dozen items hand written on it. There were two soups and four sandwiches from which to choose.

"It's a good thing I like potato soup," she said.

"Yep," the older man agreed.

"How about the potato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich?" she asked.

"That's a good choice. They are a little better here than when you were in school." the old man suggested.

The blond just smiled. While she waited for her food she looked around. There wasn't much to see. The place was almost empty, as it was most of the day. The cafe did a little business at lunch and a little at dinner otherwise it was empty. The owner was the only employee so he pretty much opened when he felt like it.

They came into the cafe making as much noise as they possibly could, the blond though. There were four of them. Young men just out of their teenaged years. All four worked at the chicken processing plant just across town.

"How about some service they said from the booth."

"You know there ain't no booth service Johnny Wayne," the slightly past middle aged owner said.

"Hell Pop, Looks to me like you got yourself a waitress."

"If I was you kid, I would shut up before your big mouth overloads your skinny ass." The old man he called pop said.

"You pull that bat out and I'm gonna make you eat it old man." The younger men were showing off for the stranger. Pop knew it, but it didn't matter what their motive was, they were showing their collective asses in his place.

"Well if you can do that Johnny, you will be the first one who could. Now son it's time for you and your friends to leave."

"Why don't you ask the bitch if she wants us to go?"

"Cause it ain't her place it's mine. Now move on before you get hurt."

The four of them stood up and moved toward the counter menacingly. They were moving toward the woman, not Pop. The blond was no kid and she kept her eye on them. When they got close, she came off the counter stool like a coil spring being released.

She head butted Johnny Wayne under the chin. There was the sound of bone crushing. His eyes rolled back in his head and then he fell like a tree. The other three tried to circle her but pop hit one on the shoulder with the bat. he found himself on the floor screaming in pain. The blonde hit a second one hard in the diaphram. His breath was gone instantly and he fell trying to get his breathing to start again. The last one tried to run but the woman grabbed his shirt. She delivered a chopping blow to his face. Blood spurted from his nose leaving a splatter on the floor.

The blonde took a deep breath then said, "Guess I better go before the cops get here? What do I owe you."

"Go if you want but I think you would get a citizen of the year award if you stay. As for the bill hold on." Pop reached into Johnny Wayne's pocket. He removed his wallet and took all the bills. "That pretty much covers it."

"I like the way you think," the blonde said. "You gonna be in trouble for the bat thing?"

"Are you kidding? These guys got whooped by a pretty young blond and an old man, you think they are gonna press charges, so the whole country knows about that?"

"I guess not. If you ever get to Camp Lejeune look me up. Just ask for the meanest blonde bitch gunny on base. I expect everyone will know who you mean."

the end

2010-06-15T13:21:00.001-07:00

Michael was in intensive care as I knew he would be. Still I wanted to be there for a few minutes at least. He might never know, but I would know. Maybe, if I were standing there, I could also con a nurse or doctor into giving me information. It is so easy to say no on the phone,

"Are you family?" The duty nurse asked.

"Not exactly, Michael is a very good friend." I could see her eyes glaze over. Before she could refuse to give me any information, I decided what the hell. I didn't know the nurse and would probably never see her again anyway. "Michael and I are sort of involved. If you get my meaning."

"Oh, I see. Michael is recovering from the surgery and we are hopeful. He is in serious condition, but we are expecting the next 24 hours to be critical. If he makes it through those, he should be fine."

"Is his family here?"

"His father is over there in the corner."

I nodded my thanks then headed over to Michael's father. "Mr. Monroe, I'm John Abba. Michael is my neighbor."

"So you are the one who got Michael shot?" he asked.

"I might be, but I assure you it was unintentional."

"That female detective said you would probably be here. She also said to tell you nothing. So what is it you need to know?"

"Do you know anyone who might do this to Michael?"

"You mean like a crazy boyfriend?"

He knew about Michael, so I suggested, "That or anyone else who might harbor ill feeling for Michael?"

"No nothing like that. I think it was a case of mistaken identity."

I just nodded, since I felt the same. I left the hospital on the bike. When I arrived home I set the bike's batteries on the charger before I packed the car for the drive to the festival. I was also armed to the teeth, as the saying goes.

It turned out to be a good thing. I saw the same car too many time to be an accident. It looked as though my would be assassin had figured out he hit the wrong man. I surely hoped so since I spent a lot of time hanging around town to give him a chance to work it out. I pulled into one of those rest stops along the highway, Those things are all pretty much alike. Usually there would be too many people around for him to do his thing. That is unless he was desperate. I sure hoped that he was. I didn't much like the idea of hanging around in a public restroom for too long. Since there were no other cars in the parking lot, I hung out at the entrance until I saw the car pull in. I wasn't all that sure, since it was a different car. Still it was the most logical explanation.

I am sure that he was expecting me to enter the men's room do my thing, the exit again. Instead I went inside then immediately out and into the ladies room while he was busy getting out of the car and looking around. Since the doors were opposite each other, I got to watch him through the crack I left. He un holstered his pistol, took one look around the parking lot then turned back to the door. Before he could open it, I was on him.

The snubbie at the base of his skull convinced him that I was serious. "Drop the pistol and don't worry about it going off accidentally, I'm behind you." I waited until I heard the metal on concrete sound before I continued.

"Before you make some hand to hand combat move, let me explain. At the first twitch I'm going to make you an organ donor. Now take one step back, then take one step to your right" He did as I ordered very slowly and carefully. He obviously believed that I would shoot him in the back of the head and he was absolutely right.

"Now lean against the wall." While he was against the wall I pulled a wire tire from my pocket. No I don't carry one all the time, but there are a handful in the car and even a few around the house. Ya just never know. "Now lean forward and put your head down and against the wall" I waited till he did it, then I said, "Now put your hands behind you. If you so much as twitch you are going be leaving a hell of a mess for some poor devil to clean off that wall." It took only a second longer to use the wire tie to secure his hands.

I walked him back to his car. I put my hand in his pocket from behind. I found two sets of keys. One had about ten keys but the other had only a single car key. I opened the trunk. "Now get inside." Once he was inside I suggested, "If you would like, I'll shoot a couple of air holes in there after I close the lid." When he didn't speak I went on. "It's time you tell me who you are working for."

He again remained silent. "Now we can play this one of two ways. When I ask you again, you can tell me. In that case I will place a call to him and suggest a better solution to our standoff. Of course you can go for door number two. In that case remain silent, in which case I will drive you to a quite place and begin removing body parts until you decide to talk. No one ever refuses past a couple of fingers. But who know you might be the exception."

"Now who are you working for?" He obviously believed I was capable of it. It was a good thing that he did.

"A man in Jersey. Word is that he is concerned that one of his former associates will mention his name in court. So he wanted me to eliminate the witness, so it wouldn't come to that."

"Why not the one making the threat? It would be a better and more permanent solution."

"He is in jail and the man in Jersey does not wish to have his name, or anyone he knows on the bail bond."

Give me his phone number and I will make him a better offer." It was hard but I didn't say one he couldn't refuse.

I dialed the number. "Hello is the boss around?"

"Who is this?" a voice asked.

"I'm the ex-cop in North Carolina he wants silenced."

"I see should I ask how you got this number?"

"A better question would be, is he still alive?"

"Is he?"

"For now yes. I know what the deal is. Actually Robbie told me to expect you to send someone. I have a rather better suggestion."

"I'm all ears," the voice replied.

"I get your friend sprung and your man here discusses it with him directly."

"You can do this?"

"Yes, but I want some assurances that this will end satisfactory for us both."

"If it doesn't, just pick up the two of them again. I expect that you are capable"

"Here is my deal, I spring your boy Robbie and his brother. Your man here has a talk with them both. Then we both move on. If not, I will take them both out and send the FBI to talk to you."

"You and I are both on throw away phones," he informed me.

"And you think this man won't give me your address, when I start chopping off his fingers and toes. Of course Robbie has already proved that he will talk with that kind of persuasion."

"Then I suppose I have no choice."

"Not at the moment but of course you would change your mind. You might want to think of this. I got this number, how much else do I know. I will be writing what I know in a letter to the FBI, just in case. You do understand?"

"Of course, I would do the same. Let me speak to Marco."

"I'll be listening."

"I would expect no less."

"That's how Robbie and his brother ate the bullets after their release," I said it to an assistant DA.

"I could charge you with aiding. You do know that."

"Why do you think I checked you for a wire. Those hand held wands are the cats PJs" I suggested.

Why go to all that trouble?"

"Oh it was to stay alive, of course. As for Robbie and his brother, I just promised Charlie's wife justice, I never said it would be in court."

"So enjoy your hot dog and lets end this now, I have a plane to catch."

The end.

2010-06-04T08:18:00.002-07:00

"Whatever," I said.

I called the hospital. Of course I lied and said I was a cop. So what if they didn't hear the ex part. I was told that Michael was in surgery and would be for a while. I put the phone down and tried to think.

Okay I'm the shooter and I know somebody saw me. That somebody may, or may not, be able to identify the car. Do I really want to take a chance. I need to dump the car and buy some time. Easiest thing to do is to take it back to the rental company. Even better if it is at the airport. The cops will waste a lot of time looking at the planes and searching the airport. Meanwhile I find a place to lay low till the heat is off.

I called around to the airport rental car companies. Again I lied my ass off. I found out that a car had been returned within the last half hour. I got as much information as possible, then advise the clerk that I would be sending a couple of detectives over to take a statement.

"Louise, I found your shooter," I said it into my cheap ass cell phone. "It was hard to make out her reply. "Swing by the Econo car rental at the airport. Looks like your man was there less than a half hour ago." Since I couldn't understand her anyway I hung up without waiting for a reply.

The clerk said that the mooch had used a New Jersey drivers license with a photo that matched. So I made a second call. "John Abba here, is Rose working today?"

"John we have talked on the phone a hundred times and you still don't recognize my voice?"

"It's this crappy cell phone Rose. I need some information. Can you run a NCIC records check on a mooch for me?"

"You know I can't do that John. If I could, what name would you want me to look up?"

"Leonardo Cartelli was the name I got, I hope it is good."

Rose didn't even put me on hold. "So how's that older brother of yours?"

"Which one I have two?" I asked.

"Simon, he is the one I went to school with."

"Simon is in California. He owns a machine shop out there. I think he said that he rebuilt starters or something like that. Yes Rose, before you ask he is still married."

"Hey getting married again isn't all I think of. It's just the think I think of most." She chuckled. I had to love Rose she was as open and honest a woman as I had ever met.

"Leonardo Cartelli aka Leo the Loop, why I have no idea, has a record for some petty assaults, He seems to have come in contact with the cops up in Jersey several other times but nothing stuck. Looks as though he has links to organized crime, but there is no mention of any particular family. Most likely he's a fringe player. You know a soldier that works for anyone of the groups there."

"Thanks Rose, I owe you."

"Dinner or drinks?" she asked boldly.

"I would say this is a beer and burger favor." I laughed to show that I was joking.

I decided that the shooter just got the wrong victim. I had not intended to go about armed but plans change. I went into my bedroom to change clothes. I swapped my shorts for long pants and then removed the lightweight tee shirt.

I added a air weight .38 special snub nose wheel gun in an ankle holster to my wardrobe. I found my civilian style kevlar vest. It was more light weight than the police version. It was a little less effective, but still would repel small caliber rounds. Cop killer bullets would be slowed to the point of being at least less lethal. It was all about the odds.

Over the vest I added a heaver weight tee shirt. It had to hide the second snub nosed thirty eight in inside my belt. I found my two knives inside a dresser drawer. I never carried them unless I planned to do battle hand to hand. If I had known what kind of fight to expect I probably wouldn't have bothered with the 4" switch blade knife or the Russian Special forces spring loaded one. The Russian knife would shoot the blade ten feet and be extremely lethal.

After I redressed I took the breakdown .30 cal Korean war vintage .30 caliber carbine apart. I loaded it into a gym bag then left the apartment. I took a good look around before I went outside of the house. I locked the gym bag in the trunk of my car. Then I guided the lightweight camping trailer's tongue onto the hitch and secured it.

When the car was ready for my festival trip, I rolled the bike from inside the fiberglass storage building behind my house. I went back into the house for the battery pack. Once the bike was assembled, I climbed on board for the ride to the hospital.

2010-06-04T08:18:00.001-07:00

2010-06-03T09:02:00.001-07:00

Life just slipped by for several more months until it took a turn. It was that moment of terror I talked about earlier. All those terror moment are different, but they all have on thing in Comoros. Each time they stole something from me. This one stole my new life style completely. Since the end of my involvement in Charlie's murder investigation, I had begun to think of myself as retired. Just kind of drifting along peacefully to oblivion.

All that changed when someone shot Michael. It was a drive by shooting, but the car wasn't some gang banger's junk heap. It was a nice mid sized nondescript Ford rental car. I know this due to a lot of unconnected coincidences. The shooting took place early in the morning on a day when I couldn't sleep late. I couldn't sleep because I was excited. Since I couldn't sleep, I was watching the news on TV, when I heard Michael's door open then close.

I saw the shooting up close and personal, only because I wanted to remind him yet again to take care of Dog over the weekend. It was a Friday and later that morning I was headed to a weekend apple blossom festival. When I stepped onto the postage stamp sized porch, Michael was already in the drive.

"Michael," I said. I was about to remind him when I saw the car slow to almost a stop. I saw the window roll down, it just felt wrong. "Get down." I shouted.

The shooter fired three quick shots as the car revved to pull off in a hurry. It had to be two men at least. I rushed to Michael while keeping his car between me and the gunman. I was unarmed so all I could do was watch as the car pulled away. I was shook, but not so much that I missed the rental car tag on the new Ford.

"Cell phone?" I demanded of Michael calmly. "I held my hand over the spot where I thought the bullet had entered his stomach.

I barely managed to call 911 on the fancy phone. 'I need an ambulance and the cops here a man has been shot." I gave the dispatcher the address and stayed on the phone giving her more information as I waited. I was calm enough to ask Michael cop questions. I did it both to keep him in the game, so he wouldn't slip into shock, and to try to figure out what the hell was going on.

Once the paramedics arrived Michael slipped into unconsciousness. I watched them load him into the back of an ambulance. I moved to the porch and dropped to the steps. I sat there as I gave my version of the events to the patrol officer. I had been gone a year so the milk drinker had managed to get past his probation with me ever having laid eyes on him. I didn't know him and he obviously didn't know me.

"How do you spell your last name sir?" he asked

"Abba," I replied slowly.

"So what was your relationship to the victim?"

"He rented one side of my duplex. I live in the other." I went on to tell him what I saw. I gave him the part of the license plate that I remembered. With that and the description finding the rental agency shouldn't be a problem.

The crime scene guys were still working when Brett and Louise showed up. "So what happened," Louise asked. She was obviously the leader of the team. In the months since I had seen them last they must have worked out a pecking order. Louise had the sharper claws I would think.

"So did the kid take one for the gipper?" Louise asked.

"If he did, it was a cut rate job. Hitting the wrong man is strictly bush league."

"Yeah, but you know how hard it is to find good help these days," Brett suggested.

"Well, it does look as though they brought someone in. Maybe Michael just pissed somebody off and it has nothing to do with me."

"Not even you would believe that," Louise suggested. She really didn't like me.

2010-05-29T14:57:00.001-07:00

Winter dragged its feet but finally spring arrived. The sun began to shine longer and the temperature swung wildly from day to day. It was just a typical southern spring. It was also nice and wet. Our version of the spring monsoon pounded us for days at a time. Still it was a good time of the year, if one didn't mind staying in the house. I chose to work one day a week and just be drenched the whole day.

"Good morning Mr. Abba,"Michael said as he headed for his car.

"Good morning Michael. How is your job going." He had been my tenant and neighbor for about two and a half months. He had been employed by a local law office for about the same length of time. Fortunately he was not employed by the Seymore group. My private life pretty much stayed private.

"It's just fine. I didn't realize how much I would miss being outside though. I always thought I would love being inside out of the wind and rain. Now I seem to miss it more and more each day."

"Ah I can only imagine how much that must weigh on a young man. I never worked in an office a full day at a time. I was always in and out. Now I only work part time."

"I know you have the ideal job, I think." he smiled as he spoke.

"Well, I'll let you go. I'm off to serve some divorce papers then make a photograph."

The day went along just as planned. As a matter of fact my life was going along pretty much the same one day to the next. My life as a cop had been a lot like that except the boring days were punctuated by moments of sheer terror. So far there had been damn few of those punctuation marks.

Mary and I were, as my mother would have said, keeping company pretty much every weekend. It wasn't a great passion, just a comfortable relationship. It has less to do with sex than with someone being there in the morning.

Fortunately for me Mary had come to realize that I wasn't the one. I expected her to find the one any moment. When she did find the one, I hoped that I could wish her well and move on. Of course there was no way to determine that until it happened.

Dog was developing his own personality. He was big old playful brute by summer. Michael had replaced Molly and Misty as he weekday playmate. Mary was still his special lady on the weekends. I was just the guy who bought his food. That is until someone appeared to be the least bit threatening. When that happened, dog was all growls and gnashing of teeth. Dog was very territorial. I liked that about him.

My first festival was in the spring. Mother's day weekend to be exact. I wasn't sure that what I did would be a good Mother's day gift, but I gave it a shot nonetheless. I set up in one of those sideways in the park art shows. The organizer couldn't decide whether to put me in the craft section of a show or in the arts section. When I arrived I found myself in the crafts section. Since I had no better idea than the promoter where I fit in, I wasn't upset.

Even though the show was in Williamsport just a few miles from home, I left the display up over night. I covered it with clear plastic and died it down. I looked inside my metal money box on the way out of my display. I had sold twenty two dollars worth of note and post cards. The posters drew people in but didn't sell. The small three dollar card assortments did best. Followed by the one dollar post card assortment. Actually they were the only two selling items I carried.

Since I planned for the first year to be a learning experience, I wasn't all that disappointed. I spent the night at Mary's house. She had insisted that Dog spend the weekend with her. I have no idea what they did, but both seemed happy to see me.

"I can take Dog home now, if you like," I suggested. "Or first thing in the morning." Since the show didn't start till noon there would be plenty of time. either way."

"Dog can stay with me tomorrow till you are finished. I think I will give him a bath and take him shopping for some toys. He needs toys here."

"What did he chew?" I asked smiling.

"Nothing of any real value, but like you, I need something to redirect his energy."

"Oh and what do you use to redirect my energy?"

"My body of course," she laughed.

When the show finally ended I picked up Dog and home we went. Once we arrived he and I spent some quality time on the rear deck. Michael came over to visit with Dog before bedtime.

"Mr. Abba, I'm planning a cookout next weekend. Will that be a problem?"

"Not for me. I think I will be home but I never know for sure."

"Just thought I would let you know."

"It is always a good idea to keep folks informed of things that might effect their lives."

2010-05-27T09:29:00.001-07:00

Mary had gone back into the unit to check the window sizes or some such thing. "Mr. Abba, I want to be honest from the beginning, so that we don't have an issue later down the line." he paused then took a deep breath before he continued. "I am Gay. I hope that won't be a problem."

"It will only be a problem, if you or one of your friends forgets that I'm not." I smiled my fatherly smile at him.

"That sounds fair to me."

Michael moved in while I was out serving papers. Since the place was half assed furnished all he did was bring his clothes, books, and computer. I found him sitting on the deck reading a book when I got home.

"So Michael you all moved in?"

"Yes sir," he replied.

"Good if you need anything let me know."

"I did want to ask, there is a small electric heater in the bathroom?"

"That must belong to the last tenant. Use it till they come asking for it." I suggested.

"Thank you."

"Isn't it a little cold to be reading on the deck?" I asked.

"Not at all, as I said before I was raised on a farm. It got really cold there."

"Okay, well I'm going to get Dog and fix dinner. See you later I'm sure."

"John?" The voice coming through the cell phone belonged to Mary.

"Yes Mary, what's up?"

"Just called to see if Michael is all moved in."

"He is and all is well. By the way don't worry he told me he was gay. I'm okay with it."

"Good, do you and dog want to come for dinner Saturday night. You know I have a nice doggie bed now, he can stay over. I guess you could as well."

"And which one of us has to sleep in the doggie bed?"

"Dog of course, I haven't gotten that kinky yet." She laughed.

"Damn shame but I'll be over for dinner Saturday about six okay?"

"Perfect," she said just as she hung up the phone.

2010-05-26T04:42:00.001-07:00

I expected Macon to call and I wasn't disappointed. "What the hell happened?"

"Eddie listen to me, don't every try to send my your poison again."

"Did she show her ass again?"

"No, she kept her clothes on, but she is a real pain in the ass. I have too many things going on to deal with her childish antics."

"Well I guess I'm going to have to put here in a dorm."

"Or maybe the juvenile detention center."

Eddie had his problems and I had mine. Mine would end with a simple rental contract, his would take several years. I had finished my walk before Eddie called, so breakfast was the next order of business. An Egg and cheese sandwich made on a bagel was my choice. The egg and cheese got cooked in a saucer in the microwave, and the bagel toasted in the toaster oven. It was an easy to make and easy to cleanup after meal.

After breakfast I worked on a couple of shots I made the days before. I had been making my 'image of the day' at historical sites in town. Places I could reach on my Ebike were my choices so far. I even had a retail location for their sale. Since it was historical, the museum had agree to put them in their gift shop on consignment. The historical landscapes and the reenactments were allowed in the museum. The local senior center did the same. I doubted that I would ever sell a card at either location but it was a start.

I had made a few dollars from posters. A couple of Misty and Molly's friends had their images made into posters. Usually they resulted in orders for five or six posters each to pass on to friends and family I supposed. The bigger advantage was that I got more and different samples from each of them.

Mary solved my tenant problem for me a couple of days later. She found a young paralegal who needed a place to live while he did her internship. Since the apartment was so small, I had come to understand that temporary people would probably be the best I could do. Families were pretty much out of the question. So it would likely be a constant search for new tenants.

Mary just showed up after the Macon fiasco with the young man in tow. Since Mary found the tenant, it was a man naturally. Michael was just 20 years old, and fresh out of the paralegal course at the local community college. Yes it was the same school Molly and Misty had attended. I probably should have asked the school to just send me their kids and cut out all the middle men. Of course they wouldn't since they didn't offer residential aid there.

He was a good looking kid about twenty five pounds or so over weight and god awful young. He was absolutely the kid next door type. He had good manners, when I complimented him on them, he informed me that he was raised on a farm by his grandparents. His dad had died in the military, and his mom just fell apart. It was more than I needed or wanted to know, but it did explain his seemly open and honest manner.

Since he was fresh out of school, I agreed to make the rent 600 a month for six months but no security deposit. After six months it would drop to the five hundred I quoted Macon. I did tell him that I controlled the thermostat and he might need a small electric heater for really cold evenings.

He assured me that it wouldn't be a problem. Mary took me aside while he looked the place over. "I'll cover any damage he does. Dad and I have kind of taken him under our wing. We know his situation and are helping him get started. You won't lose anything John."

"Don't worry, unless he is prone to rages, I can handle it."

"Michael there is one more who had to approve of you." I led him out to Dog's kennel. I opened the gate to judge Michael's reaction. He was very comfortable with Dog. Dog however was a little shy, since he was partial to women. Dog did come around though when Michael began to rough house with him. "Well that settles it, when do you want to move in?"

"I have my things all packed up at home. I can move in today if that's okay?"

"It's just fine with me. I need to spend some time out working this afternoon, so I'll give you the key, if you write me a check for five hundred dollars. I won't even wait for the check to clear. If Mary says your check is good, then it is good."

"It will be good, I promise. I had a part time job in school and saved for my move to town."

"Well this isn't exactly New York or even Williamsport, but it is a town I guess."

2010-05-24T17:51:00.000-07:00

Shelly Macon showed up at my door unannounced. "You John Abba?" she asked.

"Depends on who you are."

"I'm Shelly Macon. Dad said you would be expecting me."

"Well as usual he was wrong. I was expecting you to call for an appointment."

"Well if I had your number, I would call now."

"And I would tell you to stop by tomorrow. I'm busy now."

"Well I'm already here," she said in what seemed to me to be a rather irritated voice.

"You know what, I think we are not going to be a good match. Sorry you wasted your time. You really should have called first."

"You are not going to rent to me because I didn't call first?"

"No, I'm not going to rent to you because I'm not your daddy and I don't have to take that kind of attitude bullshit. So next time you want to do business with a grownup, remember we aren't your family. Try to act like you have some maturity, even if it is an act."

"Hey you can't do this," she said angrily.

"oh I most definitely can do this. Now get off my stoop."

I turned, then walked into the house. I closed the door in her face. "Brat," I whispered.

That was just before I heard her say, "Prick."

2010-05-23T11:59:00.001-07:00

On Monday morning I drifted back into my routine/rut. I walked, I delivered papers,I kept the computer on almost all the time. Even in the cold I rode my bike at least a mile or two.

The time until Christmas passed slowly. It was my first Christmas 'Off Line', job wise that is. I got invited to three Christmas parties by Mary. I told her to pick one and I would go.

"Then I want you to come to my dad's party. I know he would like to wish you a merry Christmas."

"It's the one I would have chosen. I think I would rather spend time with him and your friends than the bar association's Christmas dinner."

Molly and Misty wanted to have a party as well, so I said. "Sure. same rules as before. Keep it inside and the noise down to a roar."

I planned to exchange gifts with the three women in my life on Christmas day. Dog was in line for a new chew toy from me. Molly and Misty had a sweater for him. I just knew he would never wear It no matter how cool they thought it was. Mary bought him a fancy new dog bed. The bed would stay at her house she informed me. So it was more her present to herself, I suppose. It was obvious that Mary intended to have Dog whenever I was out of town. Yet another thread in her tapestry.

"So you do own a tie," Mary commented when I showed up at her door the Saturday night before Christmas which was also the night of the Christmas party.

"Three actually, they are left overs from my shameful cop days."

"It's good that you have the right attitude going into a crowd of drunken lawyers. They will probably want to challenge you to a duel."

"Egg nog cups at thirty paces no doubt."

"No doubt," she agreed.

"How about we leave before they get too drunk?"

"If we do that, what are we going to do for the rest of the evening?"

"You choose, anything to get away from a bunch of drunken lawyers," I replied.

"Boy are you going to regret that." I doubted it, but I did try to look worried.

We left the party at before midnight with Mary slightly drunk but not mean or loud. What alcohol did was made her adventurous. For about three hours she kept me as busy as a porno star. It was interesting, but also tiring. I decided that, exotic sex was over rated.

Mary fell asleep about three AM and I slipped out quietly. Dog had been in his new present from me. chain link kennel. when I left for the party. He would be happy to be in the house, I knew. It was possible that he barked most of the time I was gone. It was also probable that if he did, the girls took him into their house.

When I finally made it home, I opened my door to find that Dog had been brought in by someone. I let him out on his front cable to empty his bladder. Afterward we crawled into bed. "Did the girls let you into the house?" Since he didn't answer, I assumed that they had. I would probably find something Dog had chewed, which he shouldn't have, in the morning.

Molly came to see me on new years day. "My Abba, I wanted to let you know that Misty and I will be moving at the end of the month. I am working now and I found a bigger place. I really am going to miss you." She was almost in tears.

"Well if you need anything just let me know. I can honestly say that I am going to miss you two as well." I wasn't close to tears but I did feel down a little. The two girls had been my models as well as tenants. Of course I hated the thought of looking for new tenants. I was like most guys my age, I just didn't like change.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

I put the word out that I was going to looking for a new tenant. Renting half a duplex with the owner living next door would be a hard sell to some people. For others it might be a selling point. Either way it was to be a factor in renting the other half of my home.

I put the word out to the city employees via the city web site. They had an online bulletin board so it was easy to reach all the employees of the city at once. I didn't expect much, but still it was a start. The local newspaper would be my last resort. The kids, as I thought of Molly and Misty, put the word out around the community college as well. I decided to give the word of mouth and my bulletin board post a chance before I did anything else. That being my decision, I promptly forgot about renting the other half of my home.

Dog was in his chew everything stage so I tried to keep valuable out of his reach. I spanked him for getting too close to the power cords and valuables, otherwise I just redirected him to his chew toys. I had dogs before, so I knew that it was inevitable that he ruin a certain amount of my clothing and furniture.

I put him in his kennel at least once a day for an hour or so. I never removed him when he whined or barked excessively. I would wait till he was tired barking or whining, then bring him into the house. He spent every night in the house with me. As the dog man had predicted Dog became my best friend.

Dog got left behind, when I served papers. I had absolutely no intention of ever leaving him in the car even for a few minutes. Half the time when I got home Misty or Molly had Dog in their house. I didn't mind but I doubted that it would have mattered a lot even if I did.

The girls started to move on the last weekend in January. It was a sad time for us all but they did need more room. Misty would be graduating from the community college in the spring and starting to job hunt soon after. She might or might not work close enough for them to continue their friendship, but that was something I just didn't care about. I had enjoyed having them as tenants, but over the years I had learned when they go, they are gone. So I turned my attention to finding a new tenant.

I had done all that I could do except begin public advertising. I was very reluctant to go public. I decided to give the feelers I put out until at least the middle of February before I went public. In the meantime I attended every function of the local museum. They sponsored historic days in their thee house village. The buildings were old enough to be used either as colonial or civil war era backdrops for displays.

The museum went from a couple of times a month displays in the summer to one ever two months in the winter. Usually they were about holidays like Thanksgiving or Christmas. There was only one display in March and it was cold as the devil. It was one of those Colonial things. I got there early enough to shoot pictures of them setting up with my 35mm camera. I switched to the big camera for the portraits of the actors.

I spent most of my spare time the next week working on the images. Turning one into a poster and the others into note cards, and post cards. I did learn something from the Christmas show at the Armory, I made only two tear sheets of each. One of them I cut up for product and one went into my master catalogue.

I was in the middle of cloning out some modern day background from the museum show, when I got the call,. "John this is Edward Macon from the Carthage Police Crime lab."

I placed him immediately. "Eddie, that sounds real good, except I know you are the crime lab. What the hell can I do for you."

"You are just as personable as always, ain't changed a bit."

"Why would I change, this works fine for me."

"I was calling about your apartment for rent."

"Sorry Eddie, it's part of my duplex and I don't rent to cops."

"It ain't for me. It's for my daughter."

"Why does she need a place?" If she was too old to live at home, she was old enough to find her own place. If daddy was footing the bill, I wanted no part of it.

"She is driving me nuts. She is working part time and going to the community college. She needs to get a place of her own."

"So she pisses you off?"

"Yeah, but I'm not ready to give up on her completely. I want to know she is safe. I figure you are not going to let too much crap go one next door to you."

"You got that right. But Eddie, you know those guys who killed Charlie may come here."

"They ain't never gonna get bail. I did check."

"True but they claim they are connected. When it gets closer to the trial somebody might want to keep them quiet enough to come for me."

"Abba, believe it or not, you ain't the only one who can read odds. I figure she is as safe with you as she would be with some drug dealer living next door." He paused and I tried to think of some excuse not to rent to his daughter. "So how much?"

"Five hundred and it includes water and heat, but I have to meet her and she has to sign a six month lease."

"How about I sign it?" he asked.

"Absolutely not, I will not rent to a cop. The place is in her name and she pays the rent or forget it."

"Alright John, I will have her call you after school and set up a time to meet. The place is available immediately isn't it."

"She can move in as soon as her check for a grand clears."
#############################################

2010-05-21T13:38:00.001-07:00

2010-05-20T04:33:00.001-07:00

I have to be honest here, sex with a woman on medicare is a little different. I learned that there are things that require planning. I think that is why she decided in advance what the outcome would be. Sex with the dancer was quite workman like to be honest.

Now that said, let me add that it was a very good experience over all. The dancer had grace both in and out of bed. She wasn't demanding nor was she docile. All in all, the tiny dancer was an experience I was happy to have had. Before anyone gets the idea that it was charity or my part, let me assure you that she took pity on me.

Sunday morning, After I arrived at the campground, I moved the trailer to the marina parking lot, so that the campground could rent my space. It was not likely that anyone would be checking in on a Sunday, it was just my way of being one of the good guys.

The Sunday show started at noon and ran till five PM. I did a little business, but very little. I did talk to a lot of people about photography and how it was used during the civil war era. I was certainly no authority one it, but I had done a lot of reading on the net about the history of it in self defense. People always asked me photographs were sold and who brought them whenever I showed any picture of the re enactments.

The afternoon ended without anything remarkable happening. It also ended without the dancer showing up at the table to say goodbye. It looked as though the dancer had used me and discarded me. I found that thought amusing.

The drive home wasn't eventful at all. I stopped for gas at a truck stop on the highway. I rightly guessed that it would have an easy access gasoline pump and food of some kind. The snack bar was about one stop above prepackaged microwave able trash, but the hamburger came from a grill not a microwave.

I picked up Dog on the way home. He might have loved Mary but he went bananas when I showed up. It was a good thing that neither Mary nor I were in the mood to play pinch and tickle. Dog would have had none of it. He didn't leave my side as Mary and I drank a cup of coffee before I drove home. Mary kissed me goodbye. Her kiss had absolutely no passion. For Mary it was normal. Don't get me wrong Mary was a loving woman, but also very reserved. She was actually a lot like the tiny dancer. Okay she was less forward with strangers but not with me.

Mary could be quite demanding when the mood struck her. What puts women in that mood is a mystery to men. We think we know but we don't have a clue. Hell I doubt that they do either. I actually doubt that there is any one thing universal to all women or that works every time. I expect it's one of those 'If it's the second Tuesday in May, blow in my ear,' kind of things.

Dog and I got home before midnight but not a lot before midnight. My mailbox had a two day accumulation of junk. Offers of unwanted credit cards, and one bill. It looked as though I hadn't missed a thing. I wasn't up to analyzing the lessons learned from the show, so I unhooked the trailer and fell into bed.

2010-05-17T10:06:00.001-07:00

The man who installed the trailer hitch, also welded on a rack for the bike. The car's trunk was going to be difficult, if not impossible, to use when the bike was attached to the car, but without the bike the rack was hardly in the way at all. When not in use, the post and top lock for the bike holder came off and then went into the trunk . Only the bottom wheel cups stayed in place. It was a nice system, even if it was home made by the same welder who had installed the hitch onto my car.

The time between the purchase of the trailer and the date of the show passed slowly. I served a few papers and I made a few pictures. Mary and I went out a few times, and dog grew like a weed.

The day finally came for me to drive Dog to Williamsport for his sleep over with Mary. Dog didn't seem at all upset with me for leaving him. Probably because Mary was a friend, who always spoiled him. The drive pulling the trailer took a few hours longer than the drive would have taken without it. I looked at it as an adventure,so it wasn't so bad. I found the municipal campground easily enough. I paid for a space, then parked the trailer on a concrete pad. Since I didn't have water or sewer needs, all I had to do was to plug in the power outlet. the power in the trailer looked to be on one of those power strips with six plugs. The single circuit breaker was an inline box. There was nothing fancy about it at all.

The breaker would blow at anything over 20 amps. It was enough to run the dorm style refrigerator and a toaster oven, with a quartz tube inside, at the same time. The trailer had come with a two burner gas stovetop looking thing. The fuel was from a tank like those used by plumbers to soldier. I figured it was pretty much useless. I kept it but I also bought an electric frying pan.

"This model is deep enough to double as a slow cooker," the saleslady told me. I had no idea what I would do with either, but I wanted it. The refrigerator was empty when I pulled into the space. I planned to buy something on the way back from the armory.

The drive to the civil war armory located on an island in the James river was a dream. Without the anchor of the trailer, the car seemed to fly along. As stated in my information packet, the armory was open for set up after noon on Friday. It was a couple of hours after noon, so I parked the Ford near the entrance, then I went inside to find my site. The show's promoter had me set up in the center of the room. Since I had never done one of the shows before, it seemed as good a place as any.

I spent about half an hour filling my table with product. I also set up the two wooden poster display cases. Those were no more than v shaped holders on legs. They would allow customers to just flip though the heavy paper posters. When everything was ready, I took a few steps back to look at the display. It looked pretty darn professional, I decided.

I spent the evening with a grocery store's deli pizza, and a six pack of diet coke. I had seen the campground's sticker for Wifi. After about thirty minutes of boredom, I decided that I would buy some kind of Internet device before I did another weekend show.

Saturday morning I had breakfast at a McDonald's somewhere in Richmond Virginia. I could probably never find it again. It was just on the side of one of the roads leading to the armory. It wasn't a great breakfast, but it was fast and relatively inexpensive.

When I arrived at the Armory, I found that my display had been disturbed a little. Nothing seemed to be missing, so I didn't mention it to any of the promoters staff. There were plenty of staff members wandering around while the other vendors set up shop. I found the vender selling coffee and made friends with him first thing. He had agreed to give his fellow venders a discount on the coffee. Even then it was way more than McDonalds had charged. Even so, at that moment I might have paid even more for coffee.

The customers began arriving around 8:30 AM. I made my first sale just before lunch. the foot traffic was good, I just didn't have a big Christmas gift product. I did manage to sell a few of the note card packs. It seemed that there were a few civil war buffs about. The art posters went slowly but a couple of them did move as well. By the end of the day I had sold slightly over a hundred dollars worth of product. That had been the price of the space rental, so I felt vindicated.

During the day I made friends with a couple who were selling handmade jewelry. She designed the items, and he made them from gold wire and non precious stones. He also did some silver foundry work. The pieces were all his wife's design and were quite popular it seemed.

"Several of the vendors are going over to Momma Leon's for dinner and a few drinks. Why don't you come along?" the husband asked.

"I'm pretty tired but I do have to have dinner somewhere, so why not. I will have to leave early though."

"That's fine stay as long as you like or leave whenever you are ready," he suggested.

Mama Leon's was just one step above a grill. It had long tables with table clothes, and a bar, but otherwise it was just a down home style restaurant. I ordered a hamburger steak with slaw and french fries. It came with cornbread which was fine with me. The table seated twelve but there were fifteen of us. So the eating area was a little cramped.

"So you are the civil war photographer?" The question came from a woman even older than me, if that were possible. She had mostly gray hair and some pretty serious wrinkles in her face. She would have been unremarkable, had it not been for her bearing. She sat perfectly straight in the restaurant chair. There was more, but her posture was the one thing I could put my finger on.

"Yes that's me." I replied.

"Too bad you didn't get some of those re enactors to pose as dead bodies. I think that would have been more interesting to the tourists," she explained.

"That's a good idea. Frankly I haven't quite got a grip on what, if any, use the images might be."

"From the ones I saw there are quite good."

"Thank you. I'm afraid I haven't seen your display what do you sell."

"Nothing actually, I am the instruction of those charming little ballet dancers."

"Oh I see. I'm afraid that I don't know much about dance."

"Not many people do," she said almost sadly.

"That's what it is about you," I exclaimed stupidly. When she looked at me curiously I went on. "I was impressed by your presence, your bearing if you will. Now I get it, you have a dancer's grace."

"Why thank you," she replied with a warm smile.

"So tiny dancer, is your dance school here in Richmond."

"Yes it is, and where are you from."

"A little town in North Carolina. I'm just in the big city for the craft show."

"Ah well you don't sound like a small town boy. You seem to have an eye for beauty and balance. That's what I noticed first, the balance."

"I didn't see you at the display."

"Oh I saw your display after the rehearsal last night. I guess you might say I'm stalking you. I convinced Edgar and his wife to invite you to dinner so I could arrange a meeting."

"I am flattered," I replied more than a little bewildered.

"Well it's more about your talent than you. Still I wasn't disappointed."

"I'm glad. It's too bad that I have to leave tomorrow, we could have had dinner or something."

"Well we have had dinner, and the night is young." I was a little surprised that the woman who was a few years older than me at least, seemed to be flirting hard with me. I decided to quietly go for it. All she could do was say no in a very public manner. Even if she did, so what, I didn't know any of the people sitting around the table.

"So I have a camper at the city campground. Have you ever done it on a tiny little camper bed."

"No, but I have a real house with a real bed and I have done it there."

"If that is an invitation, I accept."

"Then settle the bill and let's go?" she demanded.

2010-05-14T18:41:00.001-07:00

Mary was probably the best woman I knew, or had known for some time. Even though she was a shyster defense lawyer, she had some good qualities. She loved Dog for one thing. I had a standing offer to leave Dog with her any time I needed to leave town. It was a good thing, because I still wanted to do the festival and reenactment weekends. I doubt that Dog would have taken kindly to a kennel. I had originally thought that the kids next door would feed dog while I was gone, but Mary insisted so I agreed.

The first test of the arrangement came around the first of December . I had read about a monster arts and crafts show in Richmond Virginia. I found the information on the Internet. At the time I was checking out festivals trying to get a feel for the spring festival circuit. I had no idea that I would be doing one so quickly.

The Christmas show was being held on an island in the James river inside the city limits of Richmond Virginia. The building was some kind of armory from the civil war or something of the kind. According to all the information I could get the show was a big deal in the arts community. I decided to give it a try and began making plans.

Mary agreed to take care of Dog for me. Agreed hell she insisted. By that time dog was big enough to take for short walks. My walks tended to wear him out for the day but that was a good thing. I had no idea what Mary's walks would do, or even if she would walk with him. She had a less than strict exercise routine. Mine was only slightly better than hers, but it was some better.

The show's promoter was providing tables and chairs, so all I needed was a table cover and something to sell. I had previously spent weeks making product, so I had more than enough. Actually it was my guess that one of everything would be more than enough. I didn't expect to even cover expenses on the trip. I was doing it solely for the experience.

I made the final decision to do the show in early November just after the weather changed. The promoter sent the names of three motels in Richmond which had agreed to a special rate for the show. He also sent a map to the city campgrounds. It would be open all winter, but he assured me the weather not be suitable for tent camping.

I didn't commit to anything at the time. I did increase my efforts to find a small lightweight camper. The winter gave me the prefect chance to buy one cheap and then spend time getting it ready for the spring festivals. I searched the newspaper, I checked out the RV sales lots, finally I found the ideal camper on a small country grocery store's bulletin board. I stopped for a bottle of milk on my way to serve a paper. I saw the picture of the trailer as I walked by. It was a knock off of a very old airstream. You know the one that looks like a thermos bottle.

The man who owned it had done the very minimal amount of work to make it useable. I knew that I would probably do more, but it would do for the time being. The thing was about six feet wide and maybe 14 feet long. It had a sofa/bed on the tongue end. A sink and cabinets at the rear. there was no heat and no bathroom. It did have a hotplate, and a dorm sized refrigerator.

"I redid the wiring when I got it. There is a circuit breaker in one of the cabinets," the man just a little older than me said. "Wife and I took it to the coast a couple of times a year. Now that she is gone, it ain't no fun. Just kind of reminds me of her." His eyes misted over.

I paid him a deposit, then went to have a trailer hitch and lighting system installed on the ford. Even though the trailer was small, it had electric brakes. A wire had to be run for those as well, I got the trailer back to my house two days after I paid the deposit. I doubted that I would ever save enough to repay myself for the purchase, but I really didn't care.

2010-05-13T09:52:00.001-07:00

The weather had been changing for a couple of weeks. Of course the weather is always changing, but for the last couple of weeks it had been slipping in and out of the comfortable temperature ban. That was my opinion anyway.

On November first the temperature took a nose dive, and to make things worse it rained all day. It was one of those soaking rains that just didn't show any signs of ending. By the end of the day I was thinking Ark and pairs of animals. It was just a miserable rainy period that carried on into a second day.

Just when it looked as though the fall monsoon might have set in, the sun came out. The temperature however stayed cool. It was cool enough to have me evaluate my winter clothing situation. I had several suits and sport coats that I planned to never put on again. Besides they would be a couple of sizes too large. My summer dieting had been reasonably successful.

During the rain I had been walking at the mall. At the mall it was a big social club, since all the people knew each other. That is all but me, I was the outsider. I did get to see some faces I hadn't seen since my last days walking there.

The first thing on my mind was heavier clothing, so I stopped in a couple of the stores after I walked. The prices almost sent me into shock. I knew for a fact that I wouldn't be buying my clothes at the mall.

Since I had been working on my house and the bike all summer, I had been buying more or less throw away clothing at the thrift store. I bought cotton pants for three bucks, which I went home and cut into shorts. I also bought tee shirts of various types, which I didn't cut up. I also had a couple of 'Lightning Express' uniforms. The khaki pants would do even in the winter. Even the short sleeve white golf shirt would work with a jacket. The jacket would hide the snubbie, should I feel threatened. Problem was I didn't have a jacket, at least not the kind I wanted.

I found the jacket I wanted for the uniform at Walmart. I got what would have cost me thirty bucks at the mall for twelve bucks at Wallymart. I didn't expect that I wouldn't be doing much work at on the house, or the bike until summer, but I still wanted work clothes just to wear around the house. The thrift store had already changed it's stock over to winter clothes. it seemed that most people had enough sense to clean their closets before the cold weather actually arrived.

At the thrift store I bought long pants and sweat shirts. The twenty dollar sweatshirts were five and the pants were three fifty. I bought lots of used clothes just to wear and not care if I got grease on them.

Since the cold rain served to get me ready for the winter, I guess it wasn't all bad. I did find that riding the bike was fun, even in the cooler weather. Actually it was just as much fun in the fifty degree weather as in eighty degrees. I figured it might be a little rough to ride at 30 degrees, but I decided that I had no reason to ride it when it got that cold. The bike was just a hobby.

It was a good thing that I bought the thrift store clothes, since the bike required work after ever ride. Grease on my clothes had become a way of life. My Vietnamese laundry woman was not happy about returning clothes to me with grease stains. I told her at least a dozen times not to worry, I knew they stains would be there when I gave them to her.

2010-05-12T07:00:00.001-07:00

If you want to pick up girls of any age just get a puppy. I was told to take the puppy where people were, so he could get socialized. I carried him to every event, I attended. Dog developed a great personality. He also developed a cult following.

"Hey Mr. Abba, can Dog come out and play," Molly asked on more than one occasion.

I always sent the little fellow out to play with her. He was quickly developing a love for women of all ages. Mary often wanted to take him home with her, but I refused. I wanted him to know where his home was not be a gypsy.

"Well if you won't take him to the park for walks yet, I will." She bought him this tiny little leash that would fit him for about a month. I had refused to buy a wimp leash for the dog. Mary however had sprung for the little bit of braid that looked like a Christmas ribbon. They were gone for much longer than Dog could have walked in the park. I was thinking seriously of going to look for them, when Mary came through the door.

"Dog has had his puppy checkup and shots," She announced. "Since I paid for it, if you give me any problem, I will sue your ass for custody." I couldn't tell if she was serious or not.

Dog fit in my life style pretty well. He got puppy food mostly, but also got all my bits and pieces of left over dinner. Since I was losing weight pretty well, there was a bite left over almost always.

The first time I had a sense that Dog had been the right choice for me was when Dog and I were at the park. I got in what might have escalated to a heated conversation, except that I kept my voice low and serious. Some kid was hassling a little old lady and her wimp dog. It was just words, but it began to get on my nerves.

"Kid, it's time for you to move on." I said it quietly but dead serious. Dog growled at the kid as a kind of reinforcement. He was just about to make a smart remark out the puppy, when I stopped him with a warning, "One more word and you are going to need dentures." I have no idea why, but he must have believed me because he left without another word.

"God boy Dog," I said giving him a bit of a doggy chew.

"I think that little fellow would have bit him," the old lady said with a grin.

"I certainly hope so." I laughed as I scooped dog up and took him home.

The box method seemed to house break dog with only a couple of minor accidents. He was proving to be a great choice and a good companion. He watched TV on line with me every night. Actually he slept at my feet while hoping for peanut butter cracker bits.

2010-05-08T20:09:00.000-07:00

I squeezed my walk in before I met with Sam. The house was in an older neighborhood and was really large, but not at all stately. It was simply a big old house. "You been waiting long?" I asked.

"Just enough time to eat my breakfast, and drink my second cup of coffee."

"Good then I won't feel bad that I wasn't here first," I suggested.

"Well lets go get you a puppy," Sam said leading the way to the old wooden door. Sam knocked then looked at me and smiled. "You gonna love Ms. Alma."

The woman who came to the door appeared to be eight years old if she was a day. She also appeared to have her wits about her. "Sam, I thought you promised to give me one more week. The puppies were just weaned."

"I'm not here to take the puppies, I brought John Abba to look at them. He is looking for a best friend. John don't like people much, and I hear tell people don't like him much either." Sam smiled and the woman took a good look at me.

"Mr. Abba welcome, I don't like people near as good a my dogs." Her smile was warm and gentle.

"It isn't quite as bad as Sam says I promise."

"You take care of my puppy, and I don't give a hoot in hell what people think of you." She smiled that, grandmother's just made warm cookies, smile at me.

The puppies were on her rear porch along with the mother of the brood. The older dog watched us carefully. "She might get a little upset," Sam suggested.

"I would expect so Sam," I replied. I turned to the old woman and asked, "So what's the breed?"

"Well Rosie is a irish setter, and I'm pretty sure the boxer down the street caught her in the yard and raped her." There was that grandmother smile again. "I don't know for sure, since Rosie didn't complain."

All of the puppies except one had brown coats and just looked ordinary. Sure they were puppy cute, but were going to be just ordinary brown dogs when they grew up. That is all of them except the little guy who came up to me and peed on my shoe. He was brown, gold, and rust all brindled together. He was gorgeous. He was also the only who stood beside his mother but kept his attention focused on me and Sam.

"I think I like the brindle one," I said to Sam.

"Let me run some shelter tests to see, if I can predict what his personality will be." Sam spent about five minutes handling the dog and pushing him around. "John he probably will be a good match for you. But if you want him to get along with people you should spend a lot of time socializing him. I had watched animal planet on TV enough to know what Sam meant.

Ms Alma took Rosie into the house and we took the puppy out the rear. I knew she missed him, and knew she would realize that he was gone forever, but at least she didn't have to watch him go.

The puppy rode on the floor in front of the passenger seat. I drove straight home, since I didn't really want to leave him in the car alone while I went puppy shopping. Fortunately Molly's car was in the drive. I thought that it might be since school was over for her. Misty had a year to go, but Molly was already working for the fire department. I expected her to tell me any day that she would be leaving soon.

She took one look at the puppy and it was obviously love at first sight for both of them. "You got a puppy. He is beautiful. What's his name."

"No name yet. Thought I might just call him dog."

"I should tell you that he needs a proper name, but I kind of like that idea."

'Would you do me a favor would you puppy sit? while I go buy him some dinner and a place to sleep?"

"Of course I will, but I warn you I may not give him back."

2010-05-06T13:59:00.001-07:00

I felt like it might all be behind me. At least until it went to trial. Mary managed to get a copy of the grand jury transcript. I planned to read it until I knew every word I had said to the jury. I knew it might come back to haunt me at a trial. That was another favorite trick of defense attorneys as well as prosecutors.

The transcript wasn't free. It cost me that midnight picnic in the city park. I chose a park with no fence or gates. Nothing for me to break maybe a trespass rap if somebody got a case of the runs. I didn't care for that thought either, but what the heck you only live once. At least I hoped that I wouldn't have to go through all this again.

The picnic ended up being a little more, but that was okay. We were both adults and well over the legal age. The only witnesses might have been rocky raccoon and maybe a possum or two. I didn't think even the state's attorney could get them to testify.

"So," Mary said as we entered my house. "Did you threaten to cut him into little pieces then bring his brother in to do the same to him."

"I don't think I should answer that."

"Sure you should, I'm your shyster lawyer. I can do a better job, if I know the truth."

I had been willing to tell her dad, so I couldn't see any good reason not to tell her. If she ran away, which she might, it could also be a good thing. "What Robbie said is pretty much what happened."

"Would you have cut him into little pieces for Charlie?"

"No for Charlie's wife. I promised her I would see that the men who did it paid. I try to always keep my promises." I could see her mind working.

"That's what I like best about you."

"That I tortured that thug?"

"No that you always keep your word, no matter what the cost. Be careful what you promise me. I will expect you to always make good on them."

"I'll remember that." I said it smiling. "Now who's hair clip is this." she asked holding up a silver hair pin thing.

"Where did you get that?"

"I found it the last time I was here. I have been saving it for just the right moment."

"You mean it isn't yours?"

She burst into laughter. "Actually it is. I just wanted to see if you would cop a plea, and true to your nature you decided to bluff it out. I gotta admire that,"

"Good."

Mary left the next morning after breakfast. She was in a good mood and I was glad. I had plenty to do that Saturday morning. I didn't need to fight with anyone.

I spent the morning at Office Depot having printing done on their laser printer. They printed stacks of post cards, note cards and mini posters. My bill came to over a hundred dollars but I didn't mind. Win or lose, it was worth it just to have a reason to go to the re enactments.

I should have known from the cool mornings of late that fall was upon me. Fall meant the number of festivals and re enactments fell. The ones that were scheduled were attended by very few tourists. Mostly there would be only participants until spring.

Since I didn't want to sleep on the cold ground and since I was making a two to three hundred dollars a week delivering the court papers, I decided that I would go looking for a small lightweight camper. Something I could pull behind my small ford. I knew there were such things, I had just never seen one for real.

I was still looking in late October when Sam the dog catcher, aka animal control officer, called. "John do you still want a dog. I saw a woman yesterday who has a litter of pups. She wants to try to place them before the shelter takes them."

"What kind are they?" I asked.

"Mixed but there is at least some boxer in them."

Can you meet me there to help pick one out. I don't want to get the wrong one."

"John there ain't no wrong one, but yeah meet me at her place at nine."

Sam gave me the address and I wrote it down. It appeared that I was about to become a dog owner.

2010-05-05T05:37:00.001-07:00

I slept away most of Monday morning. It had been a long couple of days for me. I hardly slept at all Saturday night and Sunday night my mind just wouldn't shut down. I had a really bad feeling that something was going to happen. However, the Monday morning sunny weather, and mild temperature made me feel much better. I went to William sport to collect the papers for me to serve. I got Susan's without a hitch, but when I got to the Seymore office, it was a different story.

"You need to see Mary," the receptionist informed me. I knew Mary liked to make a bit of a production of handing me the papers, so I wasn't surprised at all.

I nodded and a minute later Mary came from her office. "John, come in we need to talk a minute."

When I was seated she went on, "John we got notice this morning that you are being called before a grand jury. The state is not going to let go. It seems they want to investigate all the circumstances related to Charlie's death. They are adding Robbie's treatment by the Carthage police department to their inquiry."

"Well do I get to serve myself and charge them for it?" I smiled.

"John this could be serious. Did you know what Charlie was up to?"

"As far as I knew then, and as far as I know now, Charlie was clean. He did no more than any other cop has done. A friend asks a favor and if it isn't illegal we did it. That's all Charlie did as far as I know."

"And that's how you plan to testify?"

"It is."

"Then they will paint your whole department as corrupt."

"I hope not because it is the truth. If that makes us corrupt, every cop in the world is corrupt."

"How about Robbie's finger. He is going to claim you did it."

"He can claim anything he want's. I'm going to tell the truth there. I did go to see him when he got out of jail. I wanted to ask about Charlie. He rode with me while I tried to talk to him about Charlie. I drove over to that overlook by the lake. You know the one right off the highway.

Robbie tried to jump me and we struggled. When he finally stopped fighting, he was bleeding like a stuck pig. I got a towel from the trunk of my car, wrapped his hand in it and carried him to the ER. On the way I asked him about the knife. I guess he was in such pain he couldn't figure out how to lie. I never did get to ask him why he did it."

"If you tell that story, you are going to prison."

"It's the truth, but if you think it best, I'll plead the fifth. I don't give a crap if they think I did it' I would prefer not to go to prison."

"How about I try to work out an immunity deal."

"You can, if you want, but I have nothing to give them."

"Yes, but they don't know that. If they think you will roll up everyone in Carthage they might well give you immunity on Robbie. They don't care about Robbie or Charlie, they think there is systemic corruption in Carthage. That's the publicity they want."

"What about Robbie. Does he still go down for Charlie, or will they throw out the knife."

"They will probably throw it out."

"Then I can't swap it out. I promised his wife he was going down for it. Do what you can, but I won't give Robbie away."

That's how, three days later, I came to tell the story to the grand jury. When I told it, I thought one of the women was going to cry.

"So if things happened as you said, why did you tell the police that you had no idea what happened to Robbie?" the state's attorney asked.

"Because I was Charlie's partner and friend for years, I knew how it would look. I really don't want to wind up in prison with the men I put there."

"Yes and that's exactly how it looks. You tortured a confession from the suspect."

"I knew that was how it would look to others, but it just isn't true. Robbie is an accomplished liar and a thug, I knew he would come up with some fancy story right off some TV show he had seen. I didn't really lie, I don't know exactly how it happened, but I know all I did was defend myself from a vicious killer."

Now most of the time a prosecutor can get the grand jury to indict a ham sandwich, but he get them to indict me. I was worried for a while but he just couldn't make it go. He didn't have anything but the word of a felon and murderer. He was an unarmed man in a gunfight. so he didn't even try to go the preliminary hearing route. If he had arrested me after the grand jury's findings, he knew he was facing a huge false arrest and harassment trial, one he would most likely lose. That would be a career killer.

2010-05-03T16:50:00.001-07:00

"I will pose for you, but definite not naked, you Yankee scum."

"Hey, I was born and raised right her. I ain't no Yankee scum."

"If a strong handsome man like you is not in uniform, you are either a Yankee or a Yankee sympathizer."

"Ah well I guess I'm the 1863 version of a 4f."

"There ain't no such thing. You must be a Yankee."

"Hey, I'm and artist." I said it holding up the camera.

"Ah I see, so you are one of those sissy boys."

"Take a walk with me, you will be safe after all I'm one of those sissy boys." I knew how to use her words against her. I had made a living for years doing just that.

"Very well, since my scoundrel of a husband is off being a weekend sailor why not." So I would be trying to take advantage of her family squabble, so what.

We walked outside the campsite and along a small creek, Someone obviously kept the creek bank clean and trimmed. Most likely a lot of people had walked that same route. Probably even more than one couple had moved quietly along the creek bank.

I didn't realize how deeply she was into the civil war role play game until she said, "So do you think that horrible Lincoln person can really free all the Negroes?"

"I think he already has," I replied.

"It takes more than a piece of paper to make a man free," she informed me.

"So it does, so it does." I replied. As we continued to walk I wondered how a rake like me seduced a married woman in 1863. I decided on the full frontal assault. She stopped to look at the moon for a second, so I gently turned her to me and tried to kiss her,

She surprised me by not running away, or allowing me to kiss her. Instead she said, "It's too soon for that."

"It's never to soon for a kiss in the moonlight," I replied. She turned her face back to me and allowed me to kiss her gently. After a few seconds she broke the kiss. She turned without a word and led me back to the encampment. I expected something different, but she went to the fire at the center of the tent circle. She poured herself a cup of coffee, took a sip, then began to sing Amazing Grace. My blood ran cold at the sound. It was played or sang at ever cop funeral I ever attended.

The last one was Charlie's. That moment brought all the last few weeks back to my mind. I have a strange feeling that something bad was about to happen. Something besides me shooting another roll of film that is. I had no idea if I captured the beauty that was Jenny or not, but I know that I sure as hell tried. Even with the high speed film and the roaring fire the odds were against me.

Saturday morning began with the re enactors waking me up at 6am with orders to leave the tent city. My little canvas shelter could stay ,but me, my camera, and my blankets had to go.

I went out to breakfast at McDonalds again. Then I spent the day shooting images that could have been a reenactment or real. Actually the camera was so modern that the images were easily identifiable as coming from a modern camera. Old cameras had worse optics, but better negative to print ratios. It was a noticeable difference.

Jenny chose to avoid me most of the day. I tried to engage her in conversation early on, but she was cold, so I knew better than to try again. There were lots of possibilities for her coolness, some involved me being a jerk , some involved her being timid, and others involved what might get back to her absent husband. All in all, I decided that the ball was in her court.

The plan was for Sunday to be just a typical day around camp, so that the tourists could see what life was like. One of those living history exhibits that had become so popular of late. My plan was to get an early start for home the next morning. I had plenty of shots of camp life. I made them before and after the battle.

The campfire singing and story telling lasted until about eleven. I was fairly tired so I retired to the small tent like shelter to sleep immediately after. I had been asleep for sometime, when I felt the hand on my shoulder. I looked at my watch to find that it was 3am more or less.

"Shhhh," Jenny hissed and made the universal finger motion to follow her. She led the way back to the creek. I follower her to a blanket spread under a tree. She motioned me to sit and I did of course. I leaned back against the tree trunk, then Jenny sat between my legs with her back to me. She leaned back allowing me to wrap her in my arms. She leaned her head back against my chest. It was obvious she did not want to speak. She just seemed to need to be held.

I sat under the tree until almost sunup. I held Jenny and she fell asleep in my arms. I nodded off from time to time myself. As the sky began to lighten Jenny and I separated. I made it back to my makeshift tent just in time to be awakened by the fake captain, who told me to get my shit and get out. He phrased it a little better but that was still the gist of it.

There were no last words between Jenny and I. I suppose she didn't need any and I sure as hell didn't. It had been a night right out of some silly southern romance novel. One of those trashy thinks women seem to love so much. Well she had her illusion just like the rest of the role play game she was involved with.

I made quick work of packing the car and even quicker work of getting the hell out of Kentucky.

2010-05-02T06:46:00.001-07:00

For the next two weeks I delivered court papers twice a week, I also made images three or four times a week, then when I had a few minutes to spare, I took the bike out for a spin. Most of my time was accounted for doing things that I enjoyed. It was hard not to expect something to come along and cause a reversal of my fortunes.

I went out with Mary Seymore a couple of times during those two weeks. It seemed to be a harmless relationship so I just ignored the fact that it was a different thing to each of us. To me it was all about enjoying the moment. To Mary it was about building a relationship from moment to moment. I felt that somewhere in her mind there was some grand plan. Yes I should have run away, but I made a well thought out choice not to do so.

I really did like Mary. At least enough to do the dance with her for a while. She would move forward and I would move back. As long as she remained careful not to push me against the wall, I would play along.

Friday morning I headed to the Foxton reenactment. Even if the beautiful Jenny was married, a chance to spend the weekend shooting pictures of camp life, among the re enactors, was too good an opportunity to miss.

Jenny had emailed me that I needed to bring a couple of blankets to sleep under, but since mine would not be authentic, I would have to pack them away before the tourist began to arrive, It was all a giant hoax, but I didn't mind. 'Honesty at all cost' as a concept was fine, but in the real world I knew that it just wasn't practical. The two blankets were probably plain enough to pass muster, but they were surely the wrong color. I had bought them from a salvation army store.

After a disaster the army ran shelters. The blankets had been used at one of the shelters. There were a couple of stains, probably blood, that were never going to come out, so the Salvation army put the stained blankets in their thrift store. I bought them to use on the ground, when I worked on my car. I had yet to find an occasion for their use, so when I pulled them from the trunk of my car, in the parking lot reserved for re enactors, they were clean just not very pretty.

I had made good time thanks to the excellent highway system in this country. The six hundred mile trip took me just under eleven hours. When I stopped for gas. I emptied what needed to be emptied, and filled bags with 'one hand food'. That is food that could be consumed safely while driving.

There was a gentleman standing picket at the edge of the parking lot. The edge of that parking lot was also the end of 2010 and the beginning of 1863. It was impossible to tell the eventual size of the encampment, since it was still being built. The parking lot was busy with men in jeans and sweat shirts running back an forth with loads of camping equipment. The thing that set them apart from an ordinary camper was the age or look of the items they carried. If the items weren't authentic, they were damn good replicas.

The quartermaster was issuing camp spaces and generally in charge of the bivouac. He explained that there were no quest quarters available, but that knew all about me.

"I gave Jenny the approval for you to stay here with certain conditions," he explained. The conditions were pretty much as Jenny had told me. Nothing to disrupt the good order of the battle or camp life. "Now go to the supply sergeant and draw a temp shelter kit. He will tell you how to erect it.. If you still need help one of the guys here can help you I'm sure."

The 1 each temporary shelter kit was no more than a sheet of white canvas 6.5' by 4.5'. Wrapped up inside it were two 3' dowels, four stakes, and a half dozen pieces of light rope. It all appeared to be period or made to appear to be of the period. Also inside the kit was a set of hand written instruction, complete with crude hand drawn illustrations. The shelter wasn't a tent and it wasn't a lean to , but it was a little of both. One of my blankets was for the floor. I was able to put up the shelter and leave it since it was period,. The blankets would have to be removed first thing then next morning. I didn't expect that the canvas structure would last the night. I imagined it would be a moisture cover flat over the blankets come the first gust of wind.

I shot a picture of the shelter once I had it erected, then I moved on to shoot pictures of other tents in various stages of completion. I made pictures of men setting put the portable wood fired cook stove. One of the re enactors made it himself He was the man who gave the old time blacksmith demonstrations for a museum.. He combined his love of metal working with his hobby and out of it came a camp stove able to feed the whole company of re enactors. There was a donation jar to pay for the food and fuel.

I decided to pass on the bacon and beans with cornbread, which was on the dinner menu that night, I did drop five bucks in the jar anyway. I did it because the images I had shot that day, and the stories I heard were worth a heck of a lot more to me than five bucks.

Instead of the bacon and beans, I shot pictures of it all until dead dark. Then I used my GPS to get me to a McDonalds for a big Mac and fries. The coke was by far the best thing that night. It was a warm night and I knew I was going to be in trouble without water the next day. Since they were going to make me a tourist, I decided to buy a six pack of bottled water. It went against my grain to pay for water, but I had no choice.

I had made the conscious decision not to shoot anything with flash. I was planning to make period type images, so the flash would have just been out of place. That did not prevent me from bringing my fastest lens and the fastest film I could find. I loaded it in the camera for the campfire shots. Even so I doubted that they would be of any use. I shot it in black and white so that I could manipulate the images.

Jenny found me around 9pm. "Well hello picture man. I expect to see some beautiful images next week on you web site."

"Only if you pose nude for me," I whispered.

"My, my how you do talk. You will have me all red and flustered," she said in her best fake drawl and then she giggles.

2010-04-30T17:40:00.001-07:00

I spent Saturday morning riding and working on the bike. I was trying to get it just perfect, but when I read more about the bikes, I realized that the perfect DIY bikes did not exist. It was a continuous process. Definitely not a plug and play device. Even so it appealed to me. It had been a long time since I did anything with my hands. The bike had been an affirmation of what my dad had always said, "A man is never happier than when he is working with his hands."

I hadn't eaten all day, so when I stopped at three for a bowl of cereal, I was a little shaky. I was speeding on caffeine as well as having a low sugar episode. It only took the cereal and some orange juice to put me right again. It was a good thing, since I got a call from the woman I met at the Tennessee reenactment.

"Hello Mr. Abba?" came he voice over the phone. Even the miles and the lousy quality of the electronics couldn't disguise her voice.

"Yes, is that you Jenny?"

"It is, how have you been?"

"I have been just fine, how have you been?"

"Busy getting ready for the battle of Foxton reenactment."

"Oh when is that? and where is it?"

"It's two weeks from today and it's at Foxton Kentucky."

"Oh then I might try to make it,"

"Good, Some of us saw your web page and it is marvelous. We would like for you to camp with us, if you can. You could shoot pictures around the camp, kind of document it."

"I would love to, but the old cameras just aren't up to the much work. Would they object to me using some more modern equipment."

"Not as long as you aren't too obvious about it. Don't dress period and the visitors will think you are just another tourist."

"That sounds fair, will you email me the information?"

"of course, and John?"

"Yes Jenny," My husband is looking forward to meeting you."

"Oh I had no idea you were married," I said trying not to let the disappointment show.

"Yes I'm married and have two grown children. Edward was away on a business trip during the last bivouac. He promised me faithfully that he would be at Foxton."

"Great, I look forward to meeting him." She had to know that it was a lie, but I tried to keep it sounding plausible. The chance to shoot several rolls of film was something I did not want to pass up.

We said our goodbyes. I went back to ride the bike again. The quick charger showed that it was ready to ride, so I took off for a few miles. When I returned home, I had completely forgotten about Jenny and her husband. It was getting dark so I checked my messages, then turned the computer in search of some TV show to watch. Before I knew it I was exhausted and ready for bed.

2010-04-29T05:23:00.000-07:00

"I can see that we have a lot of work to do here," she burst into laughter at the look on my face. "Okay, I promise I won't turn the place into a faggy nightmare, but you have to let me make it more comfortable."

"Mary, this is your first visit. You may not ever want to come back." I replied, with what I thought was perfect logic.

"So what you are telling me is, not to get too comfortable." She actually laughed. It was something she could not have done a month before.

"Not at all," I replied.

"Don't worry John, I get it. This is all new to both of us. I promise I will slow down and just let it happen." She found a spot on the sofa, then asked, "Do you have anything to drink around here?"

"I think I have a little rum, I'm sure I have a diet coke. So want to try a Cuba double Libra?"

"I'm up for anything tonight."

Truer words were never spoken. Mary was not a wild lover, but she was anxious to please. She tried to read my mind, which was both erotic and a bit concerning to me. Still it was a pleasure to be with her, both at the movie and in bed. I even took her to breakfast Saturday morning, but not to the Waffle and Egg.

After Mary left I tried to rig up the bike. Since the friction drive was so inefficient I didn't plan on riding it twenty miles. My plan was to drive the car within a miles of my delivery point, then get on the bike for the last mile or so. It was just for fun and part of the cover story. I didn't really need the bike, but it was all like a big game to me at that point.

I was shocked to find how much pure fun the bike was to ride. I knew that I had to watch my distances because the batteries weren't like gasoline. I couldn't buy a charge, when I ran low. I also found the bike to be heavy and clumsy. Still it was fun to zip around the back streets. People stared at me. I wasn't quite sure if it was because they thought I was an idiot or a genius. The bike was ugly as hell, that I did know for sure.

By the time I finished with the bike for the day, it was dinner time. I had worked right through lunch. I had also missed my walk. It was the first time in months that I had done that. I was tempted to drive to the mall for a couple of quick miles, but I decided that I had done enough physical work on the bike to offset my lack of walking.

After dinner I spent the evening in thought. The bike was a bust for the express business. It was just too heavy and clumsy, but it was a huge amount of fun to ride. I knew that it was going to be a toy for me, but I didn't mind. It would be another inexpensive way to pass the time.

The idea for the post card series came to me around midnight. I figured the bike would take me out about five miles no more. Even that had to be tested with a full powered set of batteries. I knew that I could find things of interest within five miles of my home. I had the reenactments on some weekends. The image a day had been a bust, but if I combined it with my bike rides, I could start a series of postcards and call it the 'Five Miles from Ground zero' collection. The idea sounded wonderful, of course I was also half asleep. Most things sounded good ,when I was drugged by sleep deprivation.

2010-04-28T07:21:00.001-07:00

Thing began to just drift along since the brothers couldn't get bail, and since nobody seemed to be pressing for information about Charlie or Robbie's, almost, severed finger. It might have seemed that way, but I knew better.

I debated putting a hundred bucks in a bad assed con's canteen account, to have Robbie just go away. I knew that most of the crap people got into was trying to cover us a minor crime by committing a larger one. It also knew that it would have been pretty stupid, but it was still a real temptation.

Life was truly boring for a couple of weeks. I made a few bucks delivering court papers, but that was boring as well. Without someone else having put the mooch on alert, they just seemed to take the deliveries. Even so I was just marking time till something new happened in my life. Nothing kept my interest long, so I was always on the prowl for new things. It might be that I was going to be one of those guys for whom retirement was a death sentence,

I was having thoughts of eating my gun, when the batteries arrived for my bike. Okay, not eating the gun, but I was pretty damn bored. I took the box battery from china into the kitchen. I brought in the laptop and sat it on the table along with my small tool box. I also found a roll of aluminum foil I had bought the week before. Since I ordered the batteries, I picked up the roll of foil, the roll of duct tape, and some wire in preparation.

I carefully followed the instruction as I began building the battery. It took me into the evening , but in the end I felt pretty comfortable that I had it right. The directions for the build were written by the same old man who wrote the ones to build the motor drive. He was an evil genius in my opinion. He wrote the thing step by step in deceptively easy to understand language. The problem was that it was so easy, I second guessed myself every step of the way. I knew that I wasn't quite finished with the project but I was close. I still had a few more things to do before I could test it, so I put the project away for the evening.

It was about an hour after I closed the tool box that the phone rang. I had just enough time, between the battery and the call, to grill a burger. I was chewing on it when I said. "Hello."

"John, it's Mary Seymore. Since you never call me anymore, I decided to call you. They are showing Rocky Horror Picture show tonight at the Palladium. Why don't you and I go. I'll even pay for your ticket, but you have to buy the popcorn and cokes."

"No fair, that is gonna be a lot more than the ticket to a fifty year old movie."

"Hell, if that were fifty, then I would be seventy and I'm not. Anyway they still role play and do all that other campy stuff. Come on it will be fun, after all it is Friday."

"Well, I'm always looking for a new experience, why not?"

"You mean to tell me you never saw Rocky Horror?"

"Never," I replied honestly.

"Well honey, you are in for an experience for sure. You want to come over here, or meet me at the theater?"

"The Palladium is half way, why don't I just meet you?" We agreed on a time and then hung up.

The Palladium was one of those god awful multiplex things. I had never been to see a movie there, so it was going to be a night filled with new experiences for sure.

The movie was interesting more for the audience, than the crappy story line. Still it was a fun experience. Mary's hand on my thigh was more than I expected, but I didn't push here away. I did gently take her hand and hold it in the dark. My way of saying lets not rush into anything. Hell that's what I thought it meant anyway.

It was almost two A.M. when the movie ended. Mary and I went for coffee at the all night Waffle House in the same shopping complex. There was no way I would take Mary to the Waffle and Egg back in Carthage. Frances and Mary both had that territorial thing going. Every woman I ever met had that. It is why I tried to keep my relationships with women casual.

At the waffle house Mary and I had lots of almost good coffee, while we discussed everything but here office, and my problems with the SBI. I found out about her days in high school as a nerd, and she found out that I was the kid smoking in the boy's room.

Then we talked about her college days and my military days for an equal amount of time. There could not have been two people less suited for one another. The only thing we had in common was about two minutes in the hallway outside a courtroom. I guess a near death experience trumps peer friendships. The conversation was what I had hoped for from the start. Mary seemed to have gotten past her ptsd. We were just two people again who shared a common experience not a savior and the saved. I much preferred the way things were, to the way they had been.

After an hour and no way to delay the inevitable Mary invited herself to see my house. She followed me home and was careful to park on my side of the drive.

"God do you need help with this place. Who decorated it that motorcycle builder on TV. You know the one who says fuck in at least every other sentence."

"No there was no decorator, it's just odds and ends. It was supposed to be very utilitarian and it is."

2010-04-25T09:43:00.001-07:00

I spent the complete next day waiting for a other shoe to fall. It never did. I managed to get the 'image of the day' shot. It was an image of a historic district house, which had some nice lines. I even managed to get Misty to stand on the porch and look wistfully at the lens. The camera was good enough to catch her expression and the lines of the house as well.

In the process I made friends with the president of the Hysterical society. that contact guaranteed me limited access to all the historical sites in town. I thought that I might do a set of postcards based on a walking tour of the hysterical district. It would be nice to have Misty tag along, but she had school and Molly to worry about so it wasn't likely she would be in them all.

I didn't have any papers to deliver that day, so with my image of the day made, I settled in to learn more about the performance of the batteries I had purchased. I tried to put the whole Charlie/Robbie thing out of my mind. Since I carried the .38 snubbie where ever I went, it was difficult.

"I thought you might want to know the brothers badass were denied bail." The voice on the other end of the cell phone belonged to Louise.

"So when do they go to trial?" I asked.

"Depends on what they have to say to the DA. He is offering to drop the death penalty, if they plead out and roll on the guys in New Jersey."

"That better be all he drops," I said.

"We already told him no immunity or he will be seeing Charlie sooner than he would like. The feds want in, but the DA is going to scream holy hell. He reminded that it's an election year just in case they try to force a take over . None of them want that kind of publicity. We told the DA an old ex-cop who still had plenty of connections, would be happy to make an election issue of it. I'm pretty sure Charlie is going to get justice."

"Well I have seen a lot of immunity deals," I replied.

"Well we reminded the DA, this ain't one thug killing another thug. Charlie was a cop and they haven't been able to hang a dirty cop tag around his neck."

So that was why she was calling. She wanted to be sure that I wasn't going to put the stink on Charlie. "Don't worry Louise, I got nothing I can say about Charlie."

"I never thought you would have anything to say." I began to wonder why Louise had been so hot not to have Charlie's laundry aired. I began to wonder how clean her panties were. I could ask around, but I didn't really care anymore. I was off the line, and damn happy to be off now that all this crap was coming down.

I ordered a large pizza for dinner. I figured it was time I broke the diet. I had lost over ten pounds in the few short weeks since my retirement. Pizza and diet coke wasn't much of a celebration, unless the celebrator had been living on a diet of dry hamburger and salad. The pizza dough was a real treat.

The delivery was by a young woman with a can of pepper stray hanging from her belt. That was probably a good idea, considering she had no idea who would come to the door. Lots of bad people in the world, and even more good people who once in a while did terrible things to each other.

I ate half the pizza, then stashed the other half in the fridge. I Watched more of the old SciFi channel drama on the net, then I went to bed exhausted from doing mostly nothing.

2010-04-24T08:19:00.001-07:00

I could have sat around stewing about the investigation supposedly of Charlie, or I could work on my image of the day. I chose the latter. The investigation would work out or not, that was something over which I had very little control.

I did get the image of the day made and processed before word of my present situation filtered down to Mary. At least it took two hours for her to call.

"John what the hell is going on?" she asked angrily.

"Not much, what's going on with you?" I knew what she meant, I was just trying to calm the situation a little..

"I talked to daddy. He said the SBI was trying to intimidate you."

"Well, something like that." I said it hoping she would calm down.

"Well, they have no idea who the hell they are screwing around with."

"Oh I'm sure they know. Don't worry honey, I expect it all to go away in a day or two."

"If we hear anything about an interview, I will personally call you."

"Mary, I don't think they really want to interview me, if it's going to be any trouble. The things I know about Charlie a hundred other guys know as well. They won't really need me to fill in the blanks. I was just the easiest place to start, they thought."

"Well don't worry, no matter what they want, I will personally see to it that nothing happens to you. At least not before our midnight picnic." She laughed before she went on. "If there is anything you need, just call me anytime. You do still have my home number?"

"Yes, I have it. Now go back to work and make a lot money, so your dad will be proud of you." I said that with a smile in my voice.

"He is already proud of me. But yes I do need to go back to work. See you soon." she said breaking the connection.

I wasn't one little bit worried about Charlie's business effecting me. I had nothing to do with it and everybody knew it. Charlie didn't even keep me in the loop about his affairs. He knew I wanted to be far away from his so called friends. That being the case, there was nothing I could or would tell the state investigators.

My concern was Robbie and his almost severed finger. I was absolutely sure he was whining about it all over the jail. It might easily have put his court appointed lawyer's panties in a wad. He might have got someone to launch an investigation. If so, the Charlie thing was just a rouse. I didn't intend to answer any questions about anything, if I could avoid it. It was my position to let the state boys try to prove something happened to Robbie. Even if they proved that it wasn't an accident let them try to prove that I did it. I had absolutely no intention of explaining anything until I had to. Then it would be on the witness stand, where I would deny everything and come up with some logical alternative answers. Plus add, "Even if I did do it the bastard killed my best friend for no good reason," that usually worked on juries, when a clean looking, decorated cop said it about a known thug.

I did plan to tell Herbert about the problem with Charlie and his killer. He needed to know why I wouldn't take questions during a probe of Charlie. If he could limit the area of questions, fine I would talk, if not screw them all.

I made that decision at the same time I decided that the image of the day wasn't bad. At not bad it got a few minutes of my time to try to improve it. A few of my standard manipulations and I put it in the file to save. I looked at the clock on the microwave. It was six PM, when I realized that I had wasted a whole day worrying about the state cops and the image that would likely never get used.

I made myself dinner, then sat at the computer until midnight. I checked out a few sites about the bike and batteries Then I watched the news from three different all news all day sites, finally I ended the day watching an old TV series which had aired on the SciFi network a few years before.

I fell into bed exhausted.

2010-04-23T05:10:00.001-07:00

I developed three different negatives which I had shot but had not yet processed. One was a bust from the word go. The tools and the image of my singer were acceptable. Those I hung in the closet to dry. I stayed up reading on the net until I was totally exhausted. At that point I fell into bed and then into a restless sleep.

The next morning I got a call from Susan's receptionist. I drove over to Williamsport. I stopped first at Susan's office, then I went to the Seymore Group's office. I got kept waiting there, while Mary finished a client interview.

"I see you found the coffee pot. I was worried that you might have forgotten where it was." Mary was cheerful of which I approved.

"Oh lots of things I do forget these days, but where to find free coffee is etched on my brain. So what do you have for me."

"Mostly routine stuff, but I do have one that should be a challenge. He has been avoiding service for a month. I can't prove that he is selling off assets, but I would bet my next years salary that he is."

"Well be sure that I have all the information you have and I'll give it a shot."

"Oh, I have no doubt you will get a handle on it. After all you're my hero." she did grin to make it more of a joke. I left the office feeling good about Mary's mental health.

Most of the papers in Williamsport were simple. Without a previous attempt by a professional process server at his or her door, most cooperated with the Lightening Express Courier quite well. I had one dummy check type envelope which I waved around some of the time, and the old tube which could have contained plans that got waved around now and then as well. It was sign for the dummy package and get the court order instead. Reusing the same old packages over and over kept me from make a new dummy prop every time.

I stopped for a late lunch at a diner a few blocks from the office of the mooch who had been ducking service. I very carefully backed my old ford until it almost touched his Beemer. As I walked by his car toward the building, I gently rocked it. Of course,The car alarm went off. Lights flashed and the horn sounded every one around noticed.

"Hi," I said to the receptionist in the lobby. I think I have a problem. I bumped into a black BMW sedan outside. The parking space has the name Jarrell on it."

"Oh God, me Jarrell will have a fit. You stay right there, I do not want to take the blame for this." She made a call to someone presumably upstairs in Jarrell's office. It took about three or four minutes for the man in shirtsleeves to come rushing from the elevator.

"You might want my insurance information," I said handing him the envelope. He was steaming as he took the envelope from me. "By the way," I added. "You have just been served. See you in court." I tried to walk away, but the little fat man grabbed my arm.

"What the hell is this all about."

"It's about finally handing you the court order. I have your picture with it, by the way. I took it with this little key ring digital camera. It won't be a really good image, but it will do." Then I looked down at his hand on my arm. "Now take your fucking hand off me, or I'm going to break it." He removed his hand. "And have a nice day."

"You bastard," he called as I walked away.

"An accident of birth for me, you had to work it out all by yourself." I laughed as the receptionist giggled. I hoped that Jarrell couldn't fire her. I would hate for him to take all his frustration out on her.

I fought hard not to ram his BMW. I knew it would only cost me, so instead, I pulled carefully away. When I was far enough away to shoot an image of his car with the key ring camera, I stopped and made the picture. I made damn sure that he saw me documenting the lack of damage to his car.

I only had one service in Carthage and it was anti climatic. I just handed the paper to the owner of a beauty salon/spa. The woman was a bit of a redneck but she took the papers without an angry word. Her lawyer had told her to expect the papers and to accept them.

I made right at two hundred bucks for the half days work. It was enough to repay myself for the batteries I had ordered.

I made a picture of Molly for my one shot of the day. Molly was not the beauty or free spirit that Misty was, but she had some interesting mannerisms and cute expressions.

I met Mary for lunch three days later to pick up a couple of more papers to serve. "Is there some reason I can't hold these to do along with next week's batch?" I asked. It was my not to subtle way of asking if the second pickup was really necessary.

"Sure you can hold them, I just wanted to get them into your hands in case you were around the area, you could work them into your schedule as you see fit." She had obviously rehearsed the answer,

"Good, I always enjoy seeing you." I was surprised that it wasn't a lie.

"Good, we should do something fun sometime," she suggested.

"I was thinking about a picnic," I said laughing.

"I love picnics."

"How would you feel about sneaking into the park here some night at midnight for a picnic?"

Her laugh was unladylike, but genuine. "I think I would love that. You decide when and call me. Now I have to go play lawyer. I have court in a few minutes." When we got to the parking lot of Steve's Place, she kissed me quickly. She was gone before I could react.

My days fell back into a routine, even though the routine changed every few days, it was still a rut. A rut didn't have to be the same thing everyday of your life, like working on an assembly line, it could be choosing things from the same small list every day. I guess that is to say I wasn't all that upset when they came.

"Yes," I said. There were two of them standing on my stoop that Wednesday morning. Two guys in cheap suits usually meant cops, but then again I wasn't taking any chances. I kept the snubbie behind my leg as I opened the door.

Two badges, and I D cases magically appeared. "Mind if I hold one of those a minute?"

"Yes ,we do mind," The smaller of the two said as he put the badge away.

"Then get your ass off my porch and then get off my property. Unless I can verify that ID, you are not welcome here, therefore you are trespassing."

For a change I had thought to pick up my cell phone before I went to the door. I made a big deal of opening it and pressing 911. I held off pressing enter while they turned to each other. The larger man handed me his ID.

"Now what would the State Bureau of Investigation want with me?"

"We came to talk about your dead partner, but considering your attitude, maybe we should extend the investigation to include you." The little one said.

"Sonny, you need to work on your technique. Bullying some people just won't work." I pushed a number on the speed dial menu and the private phone, in the private office of Herbert Seymore rang.

"Mr. Seymore, I have two men at my door. They are allegedly from the SBI and they want to talk about Charlie, but are threatening to investigate me.

"Good to talk to you John, now why would they want to include you?"

"Something about not liking my attitude. I expect. What would you suggest I do?"

"I suggest you let me handle it, give the alph cop the phone please. By the way thanks for taking those papers. Mary seems like her old self again.

" Yes Sir of course. Give Mary my regards." I handed the phone to the smaller of the two.

"Hello (Pause) Agent Hopkins (Pause) Yes sir, we will call for an appointment (Pause)" He handed me the phone.

"We will be talking to you again."

"In a better mood, I hope." I said it closing the door in his face. I knew how pissed he was. I had the exact same thing done to me by a gambler ten years before. The phone was a wireless house phone not a cell, but it worked exactly the same.

2010-04-21T11:40:00.000-07:00

The bike was on hold, I barely found time to shoot a picture a day that week. I made the time for a weekend trip to a reenactment in Tennessee. I invested in a wooden tripod to use with the old Polaroid camera just for that trip. I was giving serious thought to getting some period clothing and camping gear. I hadn't gotten into it quite enough to sleep on the ground. I was still sleeping in local motels when I met Jenny, not that it made any difference.

Jenny was a most remarkable women. She was part of the Tennessee re enactor group. She was played what could only be called a camp follower. One of the women who moved with the troops. In the real war they were probably old crones. Jenny was as far from that as I was from respectability.

I saw her first during the day at the encampment. She was frying corn bread cakes for the men to eat with their beans and bacon. She was attractive enough to be noticed and even remembered, but it was in the evening that she captured my heart and those of a lot more like me.

I got invited to join the social hour after the day's battle. The re enactors had built camp fires all around the old home place where the encampment was taking place. At one fire the number of men was easily ten times that of any other. At that campfire a woman's beautiful voice split the dark. Her voice seemed to make even the most tired of men sit up and take notice. She sang hymns in that beautiful southern accented voice. It made grown men cry, even though these men were in no danger of dying tomorrow. I could image the effect such a woman might have had on troops headed into battle the next day. That might have been what we were all feeling, even if we didn't really understand it.

I waited until the next day to approach her. "Ma'am my name is John Abba, I am a photographer."

"I know who you are Mr. Abba. People around here talk about the images on your web site. I even got to see the site this morning. The miracles of modern science. I would be drummed out of the camp followers and prostitute league, if anyone knew that I kept my fancy phone hidden in my petty coats."

"You might have read on the site that I make only one image a day. I would like today's image to be you."

"I would be most honored to be your image of the day."

"I shot her picture in her fancy lady of the manor dress, with a matching parasol. It was one damn fine picture. It was also the featured image on my web site from that day on.

I got back into Carthage late in the night on Sunday. I didn't even stop for food, instead I drove straight home. I wasn't happy to find the front door to my half of the duplex ajar. There was a business card taped to the door. It advised me to call the investigating officer. I went inside and found that the house had been tossed. There was no way for me to tell what was missing at that moment, so I went directly to bed. I did sleep with the pistol close at hand.

Repairing the door took a while the next day. I made my one image for the day of a hammer and carpenter's square laying on a saw horse. It was the only things I was expecting to see that day. After I finished with the door I got my shoe box rollodex out and called the animal shelter.

"Hey there, is Sam working today?" I had already returned the tranc pistol. I wanted to talk to Sam about something else.

"Abba, that was payment in full," he sounded concerned that I was going to be like a blackmailer.

"It was indeed, this is a favor you can do me."

"What?" he sounded a little concerned, buy also relieved.

"I'm looking for a puppy. A male that has not been fixed."

"If they come through the shelter, they have to be fixed you know that."

"Yes but do you know of any that are about to be weaned. I would like to get him before he gets to the shelter."

"Come on Abba, I work with these shelter dogs. We have plenty of them that need adoption."

"How about a litter that is headed to the shelter. It would save the country some money, if I got to the puppy first."

"Keep your cell phone on, this isn't really the best time of year, but I'll give you a call if I get one for you. If you can get there in time, you can pick one out."

"Fair enough, I owe you Sam."

"Not yet but you will," he laughed as he hung up the phone.

2010-04-20T07:35:00.001-07:00

He did stay in that shower with his finger wrapped in a wadded up towel, until Louise returned my call. "We found the knife right where you said it would be. How did you know?"

"I must be psychic," I replied. I gave Robbie a choice, I could drop him at his car and he could put some miles between him and the cops, or I could take him to the ER.

I drove Robbie to the ER immediately after I offered him the option. Seemed that Robbie was near as tough as he thought. Not only wasn't he tough, I could tell he wanted to tell the doctor what had happened. He didn't want revenge himself he wanted someone else to make it all better. He decided against trying to roll over for the doctor since the staff of the ER all knew me, They brought me a cup of coffee while I stood outside the treatment room. I made sure Robbie knew I was there just in case he wanted to shoot his mouth off. All those donuts I had taken to the ER over the years paid off that afternoon.

Brett, one of the golden boys of homicide, showed up to take Robbie back into custody, and to take a statement. "Did you torture Robbie?" he asked after his interview with Robbie.

"Who me, I have never tortured anyone. We talked and he just got a case of remorse and told me where the knife had been thrown. He also told me why he had killed Charlie. Something about Charlie suggesting he might have better luck plying his trade in Williamsport. Robbie didn't take the advice well."

"So is he connected?"

"I certainly hope not, I would hate to have the mob on my ass." I did laugh because there was no way the mob authorized a hit on a cop for a penny ante deal like Robbie's.

"Well you know there are going to be a lot of questions about this."

"The knife is evidence of a crime. You came by it acting in good faith. If there is anyone in the barrel its me."

"I think the DA will refuse to prosecute, even if some cop finds evidence of a crime."

"There isn't any evidence anywhere. Not even in the grout in a fifty year old shower stall. We both knew that there was going to be a lot of melted plastic sheeting in an incinerator a very few minutes after I left the hospital.

"He probably has tape residue on his hands and legs," Brett suggested.

"Hey, I have no idea what kinds of kinky games he plays with his brother." I smiled again.

"Okay, you go take care of your house cleaning, before he makes his official statement."

"Right," I said that with a grin.

I realized at that moment that my life had become an action video game. Shit happened and I just reacted to it. If I reacted fast enough and in the right way, I could live on to play again. If I did it wrong, I would suffer some kind of penalty.

Good or bad everything I did as a civilian effected me personally. I couldn't hide behind the job any more. It was a realization I would have to think about at some point.

It was otherwise a quiet weekend. I drove around looking for that one great image. I settled for an image of the antique train depot in one of the neighboring towns. It have been saved by the local men's club. They had their meetings in it, so they hadn't whored it up yet. It still had the turn of the century rundown look about it.

On Sunday I worked on the image a while, then did even more research on batteries . I finally placed the order for 120 C cell Nimh batteries. They cost me over a hundred and fifty bucks but I had made that much delivering court orders, so I was still working on found money.

Since I had the summons business on my mind, I weight the Seymore offer. Mary Seymore was determined to repay me for the courthouse incident. No matter how many times I told her it wasn't necessary, she was still just as determined. I might as well go ahead and let her throw the firms business my way and be done with it. I was pretty sure it would take a big bite out of my time, but It wasn't like I had no free time available. I had plenty of free time with which to serve a few more summons. Besides I might need a good shyster any day now, being able to choose between two might be a good thing.

Susan's paralegal called me when there were court orders to be serviced. I picked them up at her office in Williamsport. So when she called on Monday morning, I called Mary Seymore, before I went to Susan's office. Mary and I arranged for me to pick up papers at her office on the same day as my pickup at Susan's office. Mary thought I might need to pick up twice a week at her office.

"We have a bit more volume than Sue," she informed me.

She did indeed have three times as many papers than Susan. Of course at least half of them were old papers that the other service company had not been able to serve. It took me almost all week but I got them all served. Some I had to chase down to put the paper in their hands but the reason was that they were prepared to dodge me. If I got first slice at the apple, that number would be very very small.

Mary had a paralegal prepare the new files for me, I was sure. No matter she insisted that I pick them up from her personally. She also decided that if she had business in Carthage around the time of my second pickup of the week, she would meet me to deliver them personally.

I went along with most anything. I really didn't like the drive to Williamsport. It didn't make much different what I liked, I didn't have much of a choice when most of the papers had to be served there.

To make my life easier I picked up a couple of magnetic signs for the car. I could slip on the Lightening Express Delivery Service sign when I delivered court orders. It would make it easy to mislead the recipient of the court order.

2010-04-19T18:30:00.000-07:00

The next couple of days were equally boring. Actually nothing out of the ordinary happened until Friday afternoon. By that time I had a pretty good routine set up for days with no real work to be done. I walked in the morning. Checked my spam on the computer, then I fixed my late breakfast. Half the time it was cereal with milk I made from freeze dried milk powder. Big advance in powdered milk my ass. I mixed a little butter with it so that it was drinkable. In cereal it didn't really matter though. The rest of the time I microwaved an egg with cheese to put on a toasted bagel.

After breakfast I would setup to make one image. If the negative was usable I would scan and work it up for a poster. If it was not, I moved back to the computer to do research or just kill time watching old TV shows. Either way I played around various forums until bedtime. It was a pretty quiet existence and I was beginning to like it that way.

On Friday I was developing film when the knock on the door came. Since Charlie had been killed I kept the snubby .38 close, no matter what boring thing I was involved in. I picked it off the kitchen counter and slipped it into my pocket.

Since I had a negative half finished developing, I carried the film tank with me. It had to be constantly rotated. I didn't want to ruin it unless I had to shoot someone.

I saw Louise standing on my porch. I expected that she was alone since the spy hole was pretty good. "What do you want?" I asked as I opened the door.

"I came to talk to you about Charlie." She looked at me spinning the blacked out peanut butter jar then asked. "Exactly what the hell are you doing?"

"Developing a negative, come on in. I will be at a stopping point in a couple of minutes." She followed me into the kitchen where she remained quiet until the timer sounded and I emptied the developer. I filled the tank with water twice to dilute, and then wash away the chemicals. I left the single negative sitting in water while I turned my attention to Louise.

"So did you nail the thugs?"

"It don't look like they are connected, and there doesn't seem to be any physical evidence."

"Charlie had to have bled like a hog. Their was an artery cut according the M.E."

"These guys know how to clean up. There was the smell of bleach everywhere."

"How about the knife? I know it is a long shot but maybe they kept it."

"Surely they didn't keep a Walmart butcher knife. It was a one time only weapon."

"Nobody saw them around town that morning?"

"Not a soul as far as we can tell. Abba, I know it was them, but I don't think we can prove it."

"Have you talked to them?"

"Yes but these guys know their way around. They lawyered up before they got to the station. Made the call from home."

"Then water board them," I smiled.

"Are you kidding one of them had digital pictures of his body naked. He said it was to prove that he was unmarked. Like I said they done been to our little dance." Louise laughed at her own remark.

"Okay so why are you here?"

"Brett said you knew Charlie better than anyone. He wondered if you could point us toward his private papers."

"So you drew the short straw and had to come ask?" I knew it was BS, they were hoping I would do something that they couldn't

"Something like that I suppose," she admitted.

"Do you have anything you can hold them on?"

"For a day or two on a parole violation. Their lawyer can't spring them till Monday."

"Hold onto one and blow the other one out the door."

"You want me to call you when we turn him out?"

"No, I don't want to know. I'm not going to be involved in this in any way. You just have a better chance of turning the one in custody, if he things he is the only one going to fall for it all. Kick the strongest one out the door."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm not going to do anything at all. He will crack they always do."

After Louise left I fixed the film, then I put it in to wash. While it washed, I called Officer Samuel Thompson. "Sam, John Abba, I'm calling in that favor you owe me." The favor was that Sam's son in law fell down two flights of stairs while being arrested for wife beating.

Sam's daughter refused to testify, as we all knew she would, but for the first time in their marriage they both went to the ER for treatment.

"I always knew it would happen, what is it you want John?"

"I need to borrow your tranc pistol. Fix me a dart for a bear to go with it."

"You know this ain't approved for people? A person might die."

"A person could die in the shower just as easily."

"True but I wouldn't have to lie, if they died in the shower."

"Okay, I'll tranc him in the shower, if you will feel better." Sam burst into laughter. A bear in the shower now that I would love to see.

The bad guys were brothers, did I mention that. Well the older one got kicked out the door so I just followed him until he was alone in a parking lot. I hit him with the tranc dart, then just waited while he called me six kinds of bastard and explained in great detail all that he was going to do to me, Since it was a short term tranc, I locked him in the trunk of my car after I duct taped his hands and feet.

When he came around he was in the shower stall of an abandoned chemical factory. I knew the place because me and Charlie once busted a mentally challenged young man there. He was living there and stealing from the local market to eat. We got him into a halfway house within a couple of days. So his time in county lockup was short.

"Who the fuck are you and what do you think you are doing?"

"I'm John Abba. Charlie was like family to me. You know about family don't you Robbie."

"Do you expect me to talk, just because you got me in this crummy shower?"

"Hell no Robbie, I expect you to die. I expect your brother to talk when he come to in the same shower with your chopped up body for company."

"You can't get away with this." He didn't sound all that sure of himself.

"You ain't from around here are you? Did you ever see that movie deliverance? Well we have a little different take on the law down here. You gonna be surprised what I can get away with. Actually you won't be surprised, because you'll be dead"

"You are just all talk," The words were pretty tough but his voice cracked.

"Well I'm not in a hurry, I have all night. Hell I have a big chunk of tomorrow as well. Of course you might not, since I'm gonna be taking souvenirs off your body to send to your friends up north. Just so they know to stay home. But I am a nice guy, so I'm going to let you choose. Which finger do feel you could do without the best?

His eyes danced but he couldn't seem to get the words out. "Well, I', thinking pinky finger. I know you wear a pinky ring but otherwise it is probably the least used." Robbie was duct taped so he couldn't really put up any real resistance. I used a pair of pruning clippers. His pinky finger wasn't as large as some bush limbs I had cut with the clippers.

"Since there is going to be a lot of blood, I have this little plastic apron." I said it as I reached for his finger. He thought he was a tough guy until I clamped down on this finger. I was ready to take it off, hell I was ready to do just what I said. Let him die and then question his brother in the same place.

I made a half cut of the finger. Lots of blood and pain but no permanent damage. I would have taken it all but he began to cry and talk between the tears. I called Brett with the location of the knife's dump site before I kicked Robbie loose. Yeah sure he would be after me, if he stayed in town. I think I convinced him to move back where the weather wasn't quite so warm.

The again he might well be on death row in central prison while he dreamed of killing me.

2010-04-18T14:02:00.001-07:00

After dinner I developed the negative and then scanned it into the computer. I worked late into the evening to make it look like a 1900 glamour portrait. With her long hair and classic good looks there was very little required except to make it look old. Misty's good looks took care of the glamour part quite well.

I did my walk a little later than usual, since the weather was a little cooler than it had been during the summer. Fall was approaching like it or not. It looked as though a lot of the regular walkers had decided to hold off a bit as well. There were plenty of familiar faces on the trail, even at 9AM.

I had time after the walk for a shower and two cups of coffee before I left for the Sanitary Cafe. It was Carthage's answer to a Baltimore style dinner. It came complete with a front that look like a vintage travel trailer. All the rest was vintage cinder block and drywall construction. A real esthetic nightmare on Main Street. Carthage had it's share of Yuppie wannabe's, so a couple of places like the Sanitary did pretty well. If there had been more than a couple, they all would have gone under I expect.

Since I arrived first, I waited in the foyer for Mary. The wait wasn't all that long, but it was all that boring. I do hate to be bored. To paraphrase a line by Clint Eastwood from Heartbreak Ridge, you can kick me, you can kill me, just don't bore me. It's how I felt about life. I can handle pain, and I will have no choice but to handle death, but I do not handle boredom well at all.

"Sorry John, but the traffic is getting worse on the corridor every day." By that she meant the four lane round between Carthage and Williamsport. Carthage had become a bedroom community for the larger Williamsport. The morning and afternoon traffic had been terrible for years, but midday traffic had started to grow as well. My guess was that evening shopper traffic would be just as bad as rush hour soon. Since I almost never left Carthage, it didn't make much difference to me.

I nodded as I stood to lead the way to the spot where a hostess met us. She asked how many in the party, even though it was obvious there were two of us. The table she found for us was way too small for me to manage. "Excuse me, I can't eat on a table this small, do you have something larger." I should have gone to places like that more often, if I had I'm sure they would have known better.

"Sir this is our standard table for two," The stupid hostess was going to argue with a customer about a table.

"In that case I think we will go to a different restaurant for lunch." I turned to walk away.

"Sir, would you mind waiting a moment."

"Actually we would," Mary said. "I do not know what your company policy is, but where I come from the staff doesn't argue with the customers."

"I was damn proud of you back there," I said once we were in the parking lot.

"Damn, I always wanted to raise hell in a restaurant."

"So was it good for you, it was good for me." I laughed at my own stupid joke.

"It was simply wonderful my dear," she said with a exaggerated southern lady drawl. "So what greasy diner do you have in mind now?"

"Willie will still be serving breakfast." I said that as I held the door to her car open. "Just follow me."

At Willie's dinner we were met at the door by a trailer trash teenager who handed us each a greasy menu. I think they had the grease spots printed on the menu because I had never seen one without it.

Once we were seated and had placed our order I asked, "So what can I do for you today?"

"Daddy and I want you to joint the firm." She said it looking right in my eyes.

"Mary, I am flattered of course, but I want to keep my freedom for a while longer."

"I told daddy you would say that. So this is our fallback position. Would you work for us now and then on special projects?"

"I have no objections to helping you out as long as the help doesn't require me to use my connections with the Carthage Police."

"Fair enough," she said with a smile. "Now let's see if I can do these eggs justice,"

"Well I certainly hope so, Willie's breakfast special is know by every cop, truck driver and paramedic in the country."

"An ER room nurse or two as well, I'm sure."

On the way out she just had to press one more time. After all she was a lawyer. "Would you consider serving papers for us. You know like you do for Susan."

"I'll give it some thought I promise."

"We will gladly match Susan's contract price. I understand that it is temporary, so if it changes, we can probably live with that as well."

"I'll give it some thought but I will promise you this, If I take on any new clients, it will first be you guys."

"I couldn't ask for a better answer on such short notice. Please call us anytime you make a decision."

I stopped by the office depot on the way home. I had Misty's picture made, and it was just as good as I had hoped it would be. I had several copies of it made into poster size prints. Also some postcard size prints made as well.

During the afternoon I gave thought to the Seymore group. I also gave some more thought to finishing the bicycle. About all that was required was to bolt the motor on and decide what I should do about a battery.

After a dinner of peanut butter and crackers, I watched an old sci-fi network TV show. It wasn't a very exciting day.

2010-04-17T14:40:00.000-07:00

I made the scan on a scanner fitted with a backlit cover. It was another piece of junk bought used on ebay. After I had a digital file, I drove it a couple of miles to the office depot. Their high quality laser printer made a nice black and white image. I had the girl put it on glossy paper and on card stock. I wanted to see how it did on each. I finally had one 11x17 mini poster printed on a thick card stock with a glossy surface. It looked better than most of the posters I saw around. It was as good as a photograph in some ways. Well for sure it was better than a photo for cost.

I was in the parking lot of the office depot, when the cell phone rang. I fumbled for it while putting the bag of printing into back seat of my car. "Hello," I said into the tiny piece of plastic.

"Hello John, it's Mary Seymore." She sounded tentative as if not sure whether I would hang up on her. She probably thought that I might say or do something equally rude.

"Hello Mary, how have you been?" I tried to make my voice sound positive and cheerful. I had no idea what her mental state was at the time.

"Just fine John, I'm going to be in your part of the world tomorrow, how about we have lunch?" I had no idea what lunch meant to Mary Seymore, but it didn't freight en me.

"Sure Mary, lunch it is." We said goodbye after arranging to meet at a local diner at 11am. I think she had a long lunch in mind. Since I didn't have any other plans, it sounded good to me. After the call I got into my car and drove home.

"Hey, wanna' see something cool?" I asked that of Misty who was standing by her car in the drive.

"Sure, what do you have?" I showed her the mini poster without saying a word. "God I love that. it's so you. I mean you are always on the track and you are a real slob Mr. Abba. No offense intended."

"If you like the poster, I can't get upset because you tell the truth. If you can sit still long enough, I'd love to re shoot you using the antique camera, The one I used to shoot this poster. It makes a different kind of image than the 35mm camera I used last time.

"Of course do you want to do it now?"

"Anytime at all would be fine. If Molly is home and would like to join in, that would also be nice."

"Molly is having dinner with her family tonight. She will probably spend the night at home. She usually goes right from the house of horror to school the next day."

"Ah and why is it the house of horror?" I asked. I could just tell she was dying to explain.

"Her dad is in denial. He still expects grandchildren any day now, if you get my meaning."

"Yeah, I think I get it. But why is that so bad, why not just set them straight once and for all or just play along."

"Molly does, play along that is. It always makes her crazy when she comes home though."

"Well, I'm glad I'm not involved in that on either side. I can see how it is hell of the parents and hell for you two as well. Some problems just don't and any easy answers." I suggested

"Nor hard ones either it seems," Misty added.

"Just to change the subject, since we are both alone for dinner, how about I grill a couple of those fancy hamburgers from the real butcher shop."

"Can we wrap up some veggies in aluminum foil and grill those as well."

"Sure, but only if you have any. All I have is lettuce and that doesn't grill well."

"Corn on the cob and carrots here," she suggested.

"I probably have an onion to add to the mix."

There was enough light in the yard to make a photo of her all curled up on the folding lounge. She faked sleep for me with an innocent little smile, which I knew would not sit well with the gods who watch over photographers. That smile was totally out of character for Misty so I had manufactured the image not captured it.

2010-04-15T06:50:00.001-07:00

I expected to see Brett and Louise but just not quite so soon. They were at my door not an hour after I left the Captain's office.

"Why the hell didn't you come to us?" Louise asked in an angry voice. Louise was about thirty pounds overweight, so could appear over bearing. That and the fact that she tended to get right up in your face when she was angry.

"You better back the fuck off bitch, or I will clean your clock. You might be a cop, but you are on my turf now. This ain't business it's personal you can't hide behind that fucking badge."

She took a step back and tried to lower the temperature in the room Brett spoke next. "Abba me and you go back a ways, not so far as you and Charlie, but a ways, why did you go to the Captain? It made it look like you didn't trust us."

"That's because I don't trust you politic playing partner. I tried to tell your bitch partner that Charlie's personal life might be the motive, but she went into protect the department politics mode. She is obviously an ambitious bitch. She wasn't going to look at anything but his old cases. Most of those cases, I worked on as well as Charlie. I would have heard something, if some punkass from the old days was after us. It just don't play that way."

"So how did you find these guys?" he asked.

"Just like I told the captain, Charlie asked if I had ever heard of them. I figured he was looking for some dirt on them for a reason. Probably something to do with the paid favors Charlie did for the fringe people.

"Fringe people?" Louise asked. She was fuming, but fighting it so that she could get back in the conversation.

"People whose activities are on the line, not quite illegal but damn close. Charlie was their go to guy. In and of itself nothing he did for them was illegal, it was just misuse of his badge. It was more a procedural thing than a real violation. That's how he rationalized it."

"So you think it was one of those things gone bad. These two found out he was checking on them and braced him?"

"No I think they were making their bones in the wrong place. More than likely they were moving into the extortion business, and Charlie was in the way."

"Could be?"

"Do you think they are connected?" Louise asked.

"They could be, or they might be just be wannabes. Either way I expect you will find some solid connection to Charlie, if you look hard enough. But dear god Brett make sure they actually are the right ones, who knows how many people Charlie pissed off with his favors."

There were more things said, but none of it was worthy of being remembered. They didn't question my lie. I hadn't expected them to do so. It was a well built lie, one that should pass even the deepest scrutiny.

After they left I decided to make an image with my big camera. I needed the practice. I sat a pair of old running shoes on the rail of my rear deck. I tool my time and was sure I had it the way I wanted. Only after I was sure did I go into the house to load the film. I sat at the kitchen table, where I loaded the homemade cardboard film holder into the homemade black bag. I also slipped the box of 4x5 film inside, followed by the trimming jig and scissors.

Once I put my hands inside the bag it was totally light proof. I trimmed the film sheet, then loaded it into the cardboard holder. I removed it and my hands from the bag but only after I had closed the film box to be sure that it was light tight.

I loaded the camera at the kitchen table, then removed the dark slide. Once I had the back of the camera shut it was ready to shoot. I went outside, where I carefully measured the light and guessed the distance from camera to shoes. After all that preparation shooting the picture was anti climactic.

When it was all done, I returned to the kitchen table where I slipped the camera into the dark bag along with my blacked out peanut butter jar. Moving the film from the camera and holder to the jar was simple.

Developing the film was also simple but a little time consuming. After all the steps involved and about thirty minutes later the negative was ready for viewing. I was surprised by how good it looked. Instead of the tiny little negatives from a 35mm camera, which one can not really get a feel for, the negative from the old Polaroid camera was exactly like a small photograph. I could see all the detail but in reverse. I couldn't wait to scan it.

2010-04-14T08:10:00.000-07:00

However I had to keep Lois out of it. She would never testify, so I had to lie my ass off. Now telling a successful lie is like building a house. First you have to have a plan. One that considers most of the things that will come up in construction, then you need a good foundation.

I came to that conclusion while walking the next morning. I made my plan and an hour after my walk, I started to lay the foundation. "Edith I'm so sorry about Charlie. We will miss him." I said that to the grieving widow in the small and super clean living room of Charlie's home.

"Thank you John. You were Charlie's best and maybe only true friend." Edith obviously had been crying and was on the verge of starting again. She sure as hell didn't need to know about Lois.

"Edith I need a favor. I have a lead that I want to pass on to the officers investigating Charlie's murder, but I can't give up the source. I need you to tell the officers, should they ask, that Charlie left the house Sunday around ten to get a bite to eat. I'll take care of the rest. Would you do that for me?"

"Like I said Abba, you were Charlie's friend and I'm a cops wife. I'll tell the lie and swear to it on a dozen bibles. I do not have a problem framing a guilty man, as long as the right man is the one you convict of this."

"I will make damn sure it is the right one, that I promise."

"Then Charlie went out on Sunday night for a bite to eat. Where I don't know."

"Exactly," I replied. "He got home before midnight."

"How did you know?" she asked with a conspirators smile.

After I left Charlie's small frame house, I went to see Francis. "Francis," I said through the front door.

"Well come in John the kids are at school."

"I can't, I have a chore to do. I just needed to ask if you remember Charlie talking to me at the Waffle and Egg Sunday night." I looked at her hard.

"I heard about poor Charlie, you bet your ass I remember. I can't say what time he left, but you and I left when the night cook came, so it must have been around eleven."

"Yes that's how I remember it to. I'll give you a call," I said as I walked away.

I stopped for a late breakfast/ early lunch before I went to the police station. Once there I passed the detective division office and went straight to the office of the Chief of D's. "Hello Amy, how come you get younger and I get older every time I come in."

"Because you are a terrible liar," she said with a smile. "He is in a meeting."

"Buzz him anyway. Tell him I have a lead on Charlie's murder, and if he doesn't come out I'm just gonna go shoot the bastard." I said it as I grinned.

"Captain you might want to come out and see John Abba. He says he has a lead on Charlie's murder." She listened a minute then added. "Captain, if Abba thought it was worth coming in for, I would take it seriously." Everybody knew Amy was the brains in that office.

The door opened and the head of the personnel office walked out. "Come on in John," he suggested.

"No thanks," I replied. I took a page from an old notepad and handed it to him. "I ran into Charlie Sunday night at the Waffle and Egg on main. He told me he was talking to these too Mooches. He asked if I had ever heard of them or if they were connected. I told him, and I'm telling you, I never heard the names.They were the last hard guys Charlie had words with as far as I know. I would take a look at them.

"Why not take this to Louise or Brett?"

"So you teamed Brett up with the FNG. That has to be a match made in hell. You pass the information along it will sound better coming from you."

"Thanks Abba, I'll let you know how it turns out."

"Good, because I don't want this to just get lost for any reason."

"What does that mean?"

"It means if these guys are connected and you flip them, they better not get a walk on Charlie. If they do I'm gonna have a press conference on the steps of city hall."

"You ain't a cop no more."

"No but I still have some newswhore friends."

2010-04-13T05:52:00.001-07:00

Everybody has heard the 48hour rule in investigations. Do it in two days or most likely it becomes a whodunit so the odds on it getting solved get longer and longer. It is even more true that get a lead in 24 or you have a long hard road.

The more information you have the easier it is to get that first lead. At the moment every cop working the case knew that information of any kind was important, but most also knew they wouldn't want anyone looking at their personal lives too closely. Every cop worth a damn has some larceny in his heart. Charlie was no exception.

I had been Charlie's longest partner because I knew how to turn a blind eye to things. I had been around long enough by the time I hooked up with Charlie to know a grass eater from a meat eater. A grass eater would take a buck, if you threw it at him. He was usually no danger to himself or the department. The man doing the offering was guilty of something, so there was almost never a report on the officer. A meat eater was a different story. He went looking for bribes. One day all meat eaters get caught. Yes they make a lot of money on the side and may get away with it for years, but they all get caught in the end.

Charlie had been a grass eater as far as I knew. Since he knew I wanted no part of it and didn't want to know about it, he could have become a meat eater without me knowing. I didn't know what he was into at the time of my retirement, but I knew where he went to get laid. No cop could afford Lois's house and keep his family fed. Charlie managed it.

I drove the Ford over to Lois's house. It was dinner time, but the house was never really closed. I parked in the driveway even though there was a small discrete sign forbidding it. the whole back yard of Lois's was a parking lot. There was a twelve foot redwood fence around the back yard for privacy.

From having dropped Charlie at the house a few times, I knew that the gate to the rear parking area had a guard. One who had been a guest of the state on more than one occasion. Lois hired only hard men to work for her.

I left the car and walked directly to the front door. No one used the front door except delivery people, and the occasional Jehovah's Witness salesman. Cops working cases used it though. They usually didn't want to know whose car was parked out back.

With all the cheap hookers on the street, why would anyone go to a house, you ask? Security is the simple answer. You didn't get rolled at Lois's. The girls went to the doctor once a week for a blood test, and none of them were screwing low lifes on the side. In other words your odds were better with Lois. Not to many carriers of disease could afford Lois's rates.

I used my cop knock on the door with the results I expected. A big black man about a hundred pounds heavier than me, and all it muscle opened the door.

"Whatever you sellin' we don't want none," he said trying to close the door. A good way to get your foot broken is to put it in the crack of the door. It is much better to throw all your weight on it while he still had just his one hand on it. That's what I did, and for good measure I pulled the South American .38 revolver. Before he realized it he had the snubby up his nose.

"But you didn't give me a chance to demonstrate what I have to sell. Do you want to see it now." He just looked mean, not a bit scared, but he also did try me either.

"Abba, if you kill him you are going to have to dispose of the body, and take his place," the female voice came from the stairs to my left.

"That's why he ain't dead already." I said quietly.

"Eddie, you go on back to the kitchen and watch the gate. Abba is a man in pain, he would probably like to kill someone just now, and I just had the carpets cleaned."

"Lois we need to talk," I said it as Eddie walked away.

"Put the piece away and we will talk."

I holstered the cheap Smith and Wesson know off as I followed her into the empty parlor. At this time of day it was appointment only. "So who iced Charlie?" I asked.

"You know I'm no snitch," she said.

"And I'm no cop," I replied.

"Abba, Charlie wasn't a really bad cop. He just did favors that he charged for," she suggested.

"Like?"

"If somebody tried to make trouble for me, he had a talk with them that's all."

"Did he have a talk with anyone recently?"

"Several of his friends were having a problem with some new guys from up north. They wanted to sell us protection."

"Protection from what? Fire and theft insurance kind of protection?" I knew better.

"More like broken bones, and life insurance."

"And Charlie had a talk with them?"

"He was just supposed to find out, if they were connected. If not, I could get a dozen guys badder than them. I just didn't want a war none of us did. You know Charlie, always a cowboy. Most likely he went to see them."

"And are they connected?"

"Don't know, Charlie never got back to me. I figure he rattled their cage and the pushed back."

"Give me some name and a place to find them."

She scribbled for a minute or so then I left. She didn't even offer me a cup of coffee.

I had two choices give the names to Louise or go kill them both. Since Charlie didn't seem to have done anything that we couldn't cover up, it was an easy choice.

2010-04-12T07:16:00.001-07:00

After my walk on the second day back, I developed the negative from the reenactment. I had to really work hard in the computer to make a decent image, but when I finished the image looked as though it were over a hundred years old. I liked it very much, so I got it ready for the laser printer at the Office Depot. I made it first into single sided post cards, then I set it up so that each page of card stock would print four postcards.
I setup a different page at two images to a sheet in order top make folding note cards. I planned to pick up some gold seals to hold them closed during their time in the mail. The file was large enough for me to set up an eleven by seventeen mini poster as well.

I put the files onto a thumb drive then moved on to other things. The first other thing was an old TV series that last only one season. I had never seen it, so it was kind of interesting in an off beat way. Most series that fail on TV aren't bad, they just can't find enough people who enjoy the particular point of view of the series. I was finding that I was pretty off beat myself because I liked a lot of them.

Still, two hours of it was all I could stand. After that I banged around reading about batteries where ever I could. I almost talked myself into buying some exotic batteries to build my own battery pack, but I read the notes of a man trying the same thing. His results were all over the place, so I decided to hold off. I really didn't need the bike for anything. It was just a fun project nothing more.

I spent a couple of hours working in the yard after lunch. Molly came home, I guessed for lunch. I expected grief about Francis from her as well . I hadn't seen her the day before, so she missed her chance then. To my surprise she just said, "hi," then sort of turned away. She looked preoccupied. I was just as glad that she was. I sat on the deck drinking a diet cola, while enjoying the smell of fresh cut grass. Pollen be damned, I thought, as my nose began to itch. It was still a pleasant way to spend the afternoon regardless.

I should have known that it wouldn't last. The ringing cell phone just could not be ignored. "Hello," I said into it. I could have checked the caller first but I didn't bother.

"Abba, this is Louise Moss. I got some bad news for you."

I waited but she didn't give it up. I knew that it was real bad. "Well spit it out Louise, it ain't gonna get no easier."

"Charlie got cut and beat up this morning. Abba he is dead." She paused a minute then went on. "I didn't want you to see it on the news."

"So what happened?" It hadn't really sunk in. It was more an exercise in curiosity than grief at that point.

"We don't know yet. It looks like he met someone in a parking lot. You know that back city lot on Commerce street. One of the patrol cops went by to drop off some paper at his car. He found him laying between two cars. He had already bled out. Coroner's report hasn't worked it's way down to me. The captain is funneling things through his office."

"Just so you know Louise, Charlie wasn't as clean as he looked. You might want to look into his personal life. This may not be job related."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Louise asked defensively. She was trying to defend her partner and fellow cop. She was angry and not in the mood to hear what I had to say.

"When you calm down, give some thought to what I just said."

"They said you were a mean arrogant bastard Abba. They also said that the department was better off without you, but I didn't believe them."

"If you don't now, you will." She didn't know what I knew or she might have kept her mouth shut. At lease until she had the facts. I didn't have them all, but I would pretty damn soon. She slammed the phone down. Well I didn't see her but I sure as hell felt it.

2010-04-10T11:31:00.001-07:00

When I awoke on Monday morning, Francis had gone and I was happy about it. Francis was a fine person, and she was great to sleep with, but not someone I wanted around all the time. She and I had spent a few days together after my divorce, so I knew what I was talking about.

I took my morning walk, even though I was tired. Yes Francis could wear any man out. Hell she might be able to wear out a complete college basketball team. Well at least the starters.

The walk was pretty uneventful to be sure. I mean, I saw a lot of the regulars and I said good morning to them. I even spoke to a few people, who I had never seen before. Since there was nothing on the trail to occupy my mind, it roamed between the bike motor and battery issue, and then swung a totally different direction to Francis of course. I smiled a lot since both were at least qualified success stories.

"What the hell were you doing last night and do I need to call the police?" Misty asked it with a grin. She was standing in the front yard of the condo. She was obviously dressed for school. She was wearing navy blue utility garb. It was the standard police uniform for rough areas or dirty duty.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," I replied smiling.

"You were gone all weekend and then we hear what sounded like someone being murdered in your apartment. Molly had to go out to make sure your car was in the drive. We saw your car and a strange one parked behind it. It took a while for us to realize it was a woman and she wasn't in pain." Her smile was huge. "She wasn't in pain was she?" I shook my head. "Pity, If she is going to be a regular we might have to move. We do need our sleep you know, or you could invite us to watch. We could brings some friends and sell tickets."

"As could I dear, and I would make a hell of a lot more money." It was my turn for the wicked grin.

"Alright, but if that woman comes back I want to meet her. One of you has a secret I need to know."

"No secret she just has a low pleasure threshold."

"Right, modest as always," she replied. I just smiled.

Misty had caught me coming home from the walk, so she got in her car and drove away. I went into the house to drink more strong coffee, while I searched the web for battery information. From the same bicycle forum, where I learned about the homemade ebike, I found instruction for the construction of a Nimh battery pack. The cost was only 25% more than buying the much heavier lead acid batteries. I did even more research on ebay, then I placed the order even though delivery would be several weeks.

I was torn between the one project for which I had all the components and just taking the day off to sleep and watch TV on line. Since I hadn't slept well the last two nights, for very different reasons, sleep and TV on line won. It was a totally wasted day and I loved it.

2010-04-09T12:46:00.001-07:00

I spent the day at the lectures and the reenactment of some obscure civil war battle. It was a lot more fun than it sounded. I wandered through the encampment looking through my camera but not shooting anything. I knew the frustration of the old time photographers who couldn't waste shots. It cost them a lot of time and money. Come to think of it the same was true for me. There was a lot of time money and inconvenience with each shot. So each shot had to mean something. No, I didn't have the same hassles as the old time photographers but I had enough to get a healthy respect for them.

I knew for a fact that when I got home, I would be looking for a camera backpack. I would also be making more cardboard film holders. I wanted to shoot more than three exposures so I planned to make at least a half dozen more film holders.

I hung around and helped out where I could until the camp was struck, then I said my goodbyes and left. I had to give my email to several people before I could get away. I figured it couldn't hurt, email was free and easy to delete.

The drive home was uneventful until I got back into town, I stopped at the local all night breakfast cafe for eggs, even though it was only ten PM. I liked eggs and sausage before bedtime. I was splurging on my calories for the weekend. Come Monday it would be back to the semi starving routine.

"Abba, I thought maybe you really were dead. I haven't seen you in months." The voice belonged to the red headed waitress name Francis."

"I've had a rough month Francis."

"Yeah I heard," she replied.

"Oh how is that?"

"Cops talk, you know that. For some reason they thought I would be interested."

"Well, they must be the ones who listen to rumors," I suggested.

"Yeah, I suppose so. So what you having? the big man special?"

"Not tonight, I think just one egg scrambled soft, one patty of sausage and one piece of toast."

"You still drink coffee don't you?" She seemed to take it personal that I was eating about a third what I would have before the heart attack.

"Yeah, black."

"Good, I thought maybe they had taken your balls in that hospital."

"I'd rather be dead than drink decaf." I said that smiling at her.

I was about halfway into my eggs when Francis said, "Abba, the kids are with my ex. I get off in about a half hour. You want me to swing by your place for a visit?"

I had to scramble for an answer. I told myself that the thought hadn't even crossed my mind. I wondered it that was really true or if on some level I had decided on the Waffle and Egg at that time of night, on the off chance Francis might be working. I decided that I probably had thought it on a level maybe a little high up that subconscious. "That's an idea. I can put on some decent coffee. This stuff is awful."

"I know your coffee, I'll bring a couple cups of coffee from here." She smiled showing her not so white teeth. That was true of almost everything about Francis. She was a natural redhead, but it had been toned down by the mixture of gray in her hair. She had large breast once, but time had deflated them a great deal. Francis was almost a beauty, but instead she was mildly attractive in a worn down kind of way.

"Fair enough, by the way I don't live where I did last time you came by to visit."

"Then hang around and I'll follow you. I need to move my car anyway. You can never tell someone may come looking for me."

I finished the eggs and two more cups of bad coffee while I remembered how I had met Francis. It seemed that my whole life revolved around the job. Most of my friends and acquaintances came from the job somehow.

I met Francis at the Waffle and Egg. She was a waitress then just as she was at the moment. The big difference was that when I met her five years before she had just left her husband. We laughed for a few weeks before she followed me home the first time. Even then it probably wouldn't have happened, if I hadn't got the domestic disturbance call at her home. When I got there she and her ex were going at it pretty good. She had a couple of bruises but he had just as many. Francis was no shrinking violet.

I split them up once my backup arrived. The female officer took Francis off to the side while I talked to her husband. "Matt listen to me. You don't want to be hitting on Francis. If keep it up someone is going to the hospital and someone is going to jail."

"Officer Abba, I swear she hit me first."

"That maybe true but she weighs about 135 lbs I would say, and you would go about 200, When it gets to the judge, he is gonna laugh his ass off. And you are going to do some serious time. Now you know some of these judges eat at the waffle and egg. They probably all know her, and have no idea who or what you are. If she gets your ass in court, you are going to jail. Next time you better leave when she looks like she wants to start getting physical."

"Yeah, I guess you are right."

"She doesn't want to press charges," the backup officer said.

"Fair enough, Matt you need to get the hell out of here."

The next time I saw Francis at the Waffle and Egg she invited herself over after work. I can say this about that encounter, I know why Matt accepted the bruises. Francis was a very physical lover. She got right into it, on every lever. She was unintentionally violent in some ways. It was exciting to say the least.

2010-04-07T17:19:00.001-07:00

I got back home about three in the afternoon with the completed motor assembly in hand. Eddie welded a piece of angle over the cut end of the frame. He did grind the ends down evenly before he made the weld. He also suggested, since there was likely to be a lot of vibration, that I drill the corners and install a bolt in addition to the weld.

Installing the motor was simple, once I read the very detailed directions from the master bike builder on one of the motorized bicycle forums. Since I had managed to keep all the components wired together during their removal, again thanks to Internet instructions, I didn't have a problem installing all the electrical components.

The prediction was that the batteries would not hold a change and that also proved to be true. I got them to hold up long enough to test ride the bike about half a mile. I found that even at 24v it was great fun to ride the light vehicle at even 12 miles an hour. Down hill the bike did considerably more but on a level roadway, it was about 10 to 15 mph. Going up hill the speed fell off significantly.

With the batteries dead and the light failing, I called it a night. I was very pleased with myself when I went to bed that night. I felt that I had accomplished something. I didn't often have that feeling, so I tried to enjoy it while I could.

I walked the next morning even though I wanted to work on the bike more than I wanted to walk. On the trail my mind was always clear. Probably because I walked first thing in the morning. I made a huge effort to be sure everything was taken care of before the end of day. I usually had nothing hanging over me, so I was clear headed during my walk. That morning I had the bike thing rolling around in my mind. Not only was I thinking about how to get a battery, I was also thinking about how I could best use the bike in either my business or as another hobby. I didn't kid myself, once all this 'putting things together' phase ended, I would be bored to tears. That most likely would come sooner than later.

After the walk I started checking out batteries and how to handle them. I really couldn't get a handle on it, so I decided not to decide. I changed gears again, I spent the remainder of the morning reading about a reenactment in Virginia. I had in mind that I might want to just take off and go to it. I didn't have any plans for the weekend, and after all it was Friday. The reenactment was a good 200 miles away. It was way too far for me to drive up and back in the same day. Well, it was if I wanted to see any of the events. There would be lectures and battle reenactments during the day. Campfires at night with singing and a telling of the oral history. Most of the events seemed to be kind of interesting, so I wanted to be there for it all.

Since the encampment was two days, I needed to find a motel in the area. The closest one appeared to be thirty miles away. I expected to be able to just drive up and find a room. If not at that motel, then maybe somewhere else in the area.

When I arrived at the bivouac area the next morning, I opened the big camera and just walked around looking. I didn't actually make a picture. As I expected I was able to strike up a conversation with the re enactors. Most of the men hanging around the tents were staying in the bivouac over night. A few had brought their wives, some of whom were staying at a motel nearby. One or two had trailers in a campground not too far away. Most of the campers at the campground belonged to the sutlers. The sutlers were men who sold authentic and reproduction items to the re enactors.

There were a few vendors who sold items to the visitors, but not many. The ones who did were selling in a kind of craft fair atmosphere well outside the bivouac area. Some of the vendors had a kind of pseudo historic element in their merchandise, but most just sold junk souvenirs.

I left around noon to find a sandwich and a motel room. The motel was full and to my surprise there was nothing close. It looked like an hour's drive to a motel. That realization did nothing to help my mood.

When I returned to the bivouac area I set up the camera and black bag. I shot one image of the area from a spot that gave me kind of an overall view. I hoped it would look like a period photograph when I finished with it.

After I emptied the camera I walked around inside the small tent city. I spoke to several people hoping someone knew where I could find something closer than the motel fifty miles away. I tried speaking to a circle of women who were doing needlepoint. Needlepoint was a big hit with southern ladies around the time of the civil war.

"Did you try the ranger station?" a chubby little lady asked.

"No, do they have information about motels there?"

"Probably, but I was thinking more of the cabins. They might be able to hook you up with something."

So I went to the rangers station before the I went to dinner. I didn't mind missing the dinner at the bivouac. I might have been able to scrounge a bowl of beans, since I was becoming a fixture already. I didn't really care for beans cooked over an open fire. I had never had them, but for some reason a bowl of beans with a hunk of fat meat just didn't appeal to me like a steak and salad.

"Sorry Mr Abba, but all the cabins are full. Lot's of people just sleep under the shelter this time of year. We don't really allow it, but we look the other way for the reenactment weekend. Most of the re enactors stay in the bivouac, Some of them don't have period camping gear, so they just throw a blanket down where ever they can. We guide them to the shelters to keep them dry and safe. I'm sure they wouldn't mind sharing a spot with you."

And that's how I ended up sleeping on a blanket borrowed from the Virginia Emergency Management office. Hey being an old time cop, I knew where to find stuff. I didn't feel too bad, since it wasn't much of a blanket. Sleeping on the concrete floor taught me one thing at least. I sure as hell didn't want to do it again.

2010-04-06T08:24:00.001-07:00

I spent that evening learning what I could about hurricane tie down straps. I was pretty sure that Mike's delivery man wasn't going to tie it down for me.

After reading about Quonset huts, which is what the half pipe really was, I leaned a lot about how they performed in the wind. The military had chosen that particular design for a reason. Yes mostly for the ease of construction, but also for it's stability.

Without end walls the winds passed right through them or rolled right over them. It made them ideal for airplane hangers and the temporary storage of materials. The metal ones were a lot heavier than my fiberglass half pipe, but the wind characteristic would be the same. If I tied it down , so that it didn't float easily, the darn thing should stay in place even in a pretty heavy wind gust. A floor tied to the sides of the half pipe, would give it the weight I needed, but I didn't want to go through the expense and trouble to build a floor.

I decided to use the built in hurricane straps. I wasn't sure how they were attached but I had an idea that if the home and garden center found them acceptable I would as well. The easiest way to tie them to the ground was with special anchors, like those used for mobile home installation. That would require an auger to twist the anchor into the ground. I wasn't quite ready for that. What I chose instead was a large dog tie down stake. It had the long metal rod with a couple of wings on it to keep it from twisting. I decided that once the earth filled in the drive holes the wings would help hold down the storage shed. Those stakes I could be driven in with a four pound sledge hammer. I could always use one of those later as well.

The shell got delivered at 8AM. I guess landscapers and home owners started yard work early to avoid the heat. The driver and I easily carried the shell to a fairly flat spot in the yard. The yard had a gentle slope away from the house so there would be natural drainage for the floor. Once the grass died, I would have to look for something to cover the earth. Just to keep the mud down in the rain.

The half pipe was only eight feet high in the very center. I could stand straight only for a couple of feet on either side of dead center. Otherwise, I had to crouch and bend to move around inside. The edge spaces would work for the lawn mower, tool boxes, and even some scrap lumber. It looked as though with a few inexpensive additions, I would be able to use the shed quite well.

I drove to the home depot and bought four tie down stakes, a 4lb sledge hammer, and two ten by ten reinforced plastic tarps. The half pipe was gray but the tarps that size were blue. It was going to look a like the civil war in my back yard but I didn't mind all that much. I had never been big on how things look. I also picked up a hand full of 1/4" nuts, bolts, and washers as I passed by the bins. As an after thought I picked up a few prepackaged wing nuts as well.

Back at home I drilled holes in the fiber glass and attached one of the tarps permanently to the rear opening of the shell. I was able to pull it pretty tight. I ran the nuts through the Grommets and drilled just a couple of hole through the tarp along that same triple folded edge. I had a feeling it was about as well attached as I could manage. I had a half tube of clear bathtub caulk left over so I put a dab over and around the bolt heads.

On the front end, I attached the tarp the same way, except that I used wing nuts. I did that so that I could remove it easily to put things in and take them out again. It was noon when I had the lawnmower, and gas can inside. My tool box was on the deck along with the bike and scooter. I planned to spend the day working on it.

On the computer inside the house I had the directions on the screen. I followed them step by step as I removed the shell of the scooter. Unfortunately my scooter was not the easiest to convert. I set my mind to screwing up at least a dozen times, but also to stay with the project no matter what.

Once the shell was removed I realized quickly that the job would be easier than I had expected, but that I needed more tools to do it simply. The first thing I had to decide was how to cut the frame. The place I needed to cut was just two metal bars separated by about six inches of open space. I could buy a hack saw, or I could buy an angle grinder with a cut off disk. I wondered if I would ever use the angle grinder again. I decided that I probably would, so I went back to the home depot and bought a cheap one. Even so with the extra disk and tax it came to fifty dollars. More than I had paid for the whole scooter.

At home I carefully removed the speed controller from the scooter. I disconnected only the motor wires. To my surprise the battery charger plugged right up and the light turned red. I hoped that meant that it was charging. While it did it's thing I made quick work of cutting the frame just behind the battery area. Since the motor was bolted to each side of the frame, the frame didn't fall apart.

When I lifted the rear section of the scooter, I discovered that it was very unstable. It was in need of a cross piece where I had cut the frame. It was back to the shoe box to see if I knew a welder. What I knew was a guy who owned about every tool ever made and who owed me a favor from long ago.

"Hey Eddie, it's John Abba, how you doing man?"

"I'm fine Abba. What is it you want this time?"

"Hey you hurt my feelings. I don't always want something when I call you."

"Sure you do. We are not social friends. I don't feel bad about it Abba, you don't have any friends."

"Well that's true I guess. I need a little welding done, do you still have the welder?"

"Bring it over about one. Be here when I get back from lunch and I'll do it before I start back on the bird."

"The bird?"

"Yeah,I'm doing some body work on a Tbird restoration. Just be here at one and this better not take long."

"Ten minutes tops. You do have a piece of metal around don't you?"

"Probably. just bring it over and if I don't have it I'll tell you where to get it."

Since it was 11:30, I went into the house and made myself lunch. I made an egg sandwich and called it breakfast and lunch.

2010-04-05T10:52:00.001-07:00

I had used the first ninety bucks to buy the camera, film, and chemicals, even though they had not
as yet arrived. I thought I might just use the second ninety to buy a scooter to motorize my bike. I had no immediate plans, so I renewed my search of Criag's List for an electric scooter or electric bike.

I found a nonworking 500watt scooter on Craig's list for 50 bucks. From the Internet I found that the scooter was simple to deconstruct and repair. It would probably be worth that, but if the owner hadn't sold it, I might get it a little cheaper. I made arrangements to see the scooter the next day after the owner came home from work.

"So, would you take $40?" I asked as I looked at the dust covered hunk of steel and plastic. He surely wouldn't have made a deal, if he knew that I had driven 30 miles to buy the scooter. I was going home with it deal, or no deal.

"Yeah, I guess I could do that. I want it out of my garage." the man in the business suit said. He obviously was one of those guys who came home from work and kept his suit on till bedtime. I would have been in jeans and a cut off sweat shirt within ten minutes of hitting the door. I realized that he was serious, he just wanted it gone period.

I loaded the scooter into the trunk of my car without any help from the man in the suit. It didn't matter that I scratched the bumper of my ten year old car. It had plenty of other scratches on it. I felt right pleased with myself on the drive home.

I had enough tarp covering the lawn mower so that I could cut off a bit to cover the scooter until I could work on it the next day. I slipped it under the deck. The bicycle sat in my bedroom along with way too many other things. The three small rooms were quickly getting over filled.

I had a thought once I was inside the house. Molly's school term would be over soon. It might be over any day as a matter of fact since they were planning an end of term part. If she decided to move I would have to decide what to do with the space.

I mean I enjoyed the extra rent money, but I also needed more space. I went onto the net to do research. Yes even that small a decision got researched. The best advice I could find was to evaluate the kind of space I needed. Would it be a better investment to build a storage shed in the back of the lot or kick Molly out. Not really kick her out just not rent the unit after she left.

It wasn't the most economical solution, but it was the easiest and fastest. I decided to buy a pre built storage building which could be trucked in. Once on the ground, and leveled, it would be as good as anything I could build, probably better. I went through my business card file till I found the card for Smith and Son Storage Solutions.

"Monk, this is John Abba."I said to the man who answered the phone.

"This Sam, my dad isn't around much any more."

"Ah, I knew your dad back in the day. I just called to get a price on a storage building for my lawnmower and bicycle that kind of thing."

"You looking for one of the little mini barn things?" I could tell he was all excited. It must have been the most expensive building made.

"No, I was thinking one of those unfinished, small, metal army Quonset hut kind of things." I said. I knew his heart sank. That was probably one of the cheaper if not the cheapest of all designs. It was no more than a few metal rods bent in a half moon configuration to form the walls and roof in one continuous run of metal sheets. The ends were usually no more than a few pieces of barn metal sheets, The whole thing could likely be done in a couple of hours. It was more like a giant, inverted, round bottomed, metal loaf pan than anything else

"So how big are we talking about?" He asked.

"What are your standard sizes and prices?" I asked. he wasn't going to get me on some custom size sure charge.

"I guess the 8x8 is the most popular yard size or maybe the 8x10 or even 10x12."

"What kind of prices are you talking about?"

"8x8 with local setup and delivery is 699 plus tax. The 8x10 is 899 and the 10x12 is 1099 plus tax and out of town delivery is more."

"I'm in town. If I decide to go with you when can you do it?"

"I need about three days to schedule it and do the setup of it."

"Let me make a few calls, and I'll get back to you."

"The only thing cheaper is a big plastic box, but you make your calls." He didn't seem happy that I was going to call around. I probably wouldn't have if his dad had given me the same prices. I knew part of it was his being younger and unknown to me.

"Thanks I will." I said just as short and nasty as I could.

I made a few calls around town and found that he was pretty much right. All those building were about the same price. Most of them wanted to erect them on site from some kind of kit thing. His price wasn't the absolute lowest but it was right down there.

I got the steel gauge from the other two lowest ones and then called him. His steel was even thinner than the others. I decided that I would give the job to someone else. I didn't owe the kid anything. His dad was the one I knew. Even then I would have tried to beat his dad down to a price to match the other guys.

I almost made the deal with a guy a few blocks from Smith, when I made one last call to a local home and garden store. The store wasn't even one of the chains. He was just a guy who had been in business even before I came to town. I had his number in my shoe box of business cards, why I had no idea.

"Sorry Mr. Abba, but my dad retired. I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Mike, You kept me out of jail once. I got in some stupid kid fight on Main Street. You talked the officer into calling my dad instead of arresting me."

"Oh, that had to have been a long time ago." Actually it was how his dad's card got into my box.

"So what can I do for you?" he asked.

"To be honest, I'm looking for a storage building of some kind for my backyard. Something to put a lawn mower and bicycle inside. I was thinking about one of those cheap metal Quonset hut type storage buildings."

"How big do you need?"

"Big enough for a lawnmower, a gas can, my bike and a tool box maybe."

"How about 8x10 you think that would be big enough.

"Sure but how much?" I asked.

"Well I have an 8x10 fiberglass shell out back. It's really just a big ole half pipe. It does come with three hurricane straps. I have mine staked down to keep the wind from blowing them away. I use them to store chemicals and stuff. It's open on both ends and we use a plastic tarp over the ends. The tarp is good for four or five years. You could build ends of some kind I'm sure."

"Could you spare one?" My mind was working at full speed. I wasn't quite sure how I would use it, but it sounded like something different enough for me to like.

"Sure I have a half dozen I have never used. Tell me where you live and I'll have the delivery guy drop it off tomorrow."

"You never did say how much." I wanted to know before I agreed.

"Mr. Abba, I don't even know what I paid for them. Would $200 be too much?"

"Hell no, I'll give your driver cash," I said.

"Good enough," Mike said ringing off.

2010-04-04T09:07:00.001-07:00

I seemed to have a hundred projects going on all at once. Of course I didn't, but it seemed like that. I had juggled more than one case and hundreds of threads within each one, but this juggling was different somehow. The murder cases didn't really involve me. I was sure I could get everything in my life to come together but how and when were questions I couldn't answer. Plus there was the nagging thought in the back of my mind, what was the end of it all anyway. I mean there was just me, why was I bothering with any of it. Why not just lay down and sleep my way to the grave.

The only answer I could come up with was that it was the struggle that made life worth living. I supposed that twenty odd year on the line had warped me. Then again I saw other men my age walking the same trail or puttering in their shops all around town. Men who presumably could have squeeked by on their pensions as well as I. I again decided to stop thinking about it, and just get on with living whatever part of my life was left.

I spent a couple of more days reading about this and that on the Net. I even watched a couple of newer released movies. I found that not having gone to movies for the last ten years didn't seem to matter at all. They were still making the same movies, the only difference being that the faces in them had changed. They were still cowboy movies, even if the bad guys wore gold chains, and the good guys wore suits.

In the new movies they had Turf wars instead of range wars. Good and evil were still the motivations, even if the lines were a little gray. They had always been gray, just ask Tom Horn, when you get to where ever he is spending eternity.

Aside from the net I continued to walk. I was getting to know people on the trail. Okay it was just enough to say hi and smile, but they at least smiled back. At one time they had run like hell. I expect it was because unlike them, I wore work clothes for my walks. I just wasn't the track suit type. Most of the real fashion types walked at the mall, so I was only mildly out of place on the trail. However, I stood out like a Baby Ruth bar in a punch bowl at the mall.

I found that on those mornings when I ate it by the lake I felt more at peace with the world. I decided that the extra protein and fat from the biscuit accounted for it. Although It was probably combination of the lake and the animal fat, rather than either one in and of itself. It was on one of those, alls well with the world, morning when the camera finally arrived.

Since I still didn't have any chemicals, I put my efforts into doing the very slight modifications to it. I didn't have to do them, but to use the camera with a film holder and still make full size negatives, the guides from the roll film needed to be removed. I could shoot a smaller sized negative but I wanted as much negative as I could get. It would help keep the negative's sharpness just in case the lens wasn't as good as the author had claimed.

The camera modification was simple. I just removed the roller and the roll film guide from the take up area. There was nothing to it. Twenty minutes after I got the camera in the mail, it was ready to go. I realized then that I would need to pick up a better light meter. The camera came with one which had been sold with the camera, but it would never read lower light situations.

It also had the funky exposure readings used only by Polaroid at that time. Still knowing what they were equal to in modern settings, and knowing how to figure how to use them in low light, made the camera very usable indeed. The fact that just anyone couldn't do it, added to it's appeal.

I had the peanut butter jar tank, I had the camera and it had been modified, the next thing I needed was to make the cardboard film holders. I had decided to give them a try as well as the film directly in the back method. The paper holder would allow me to load the camera in the daylight and just remove the film in the dark bag. I thought it might be easier to get the film aligned in daylight. the negative size would be the same either way.

Since the cereal box film holder required that I cut the film to 3 1/2 by 5, I made myself a film jig, so that I could cut the film in the dark bag. I willed the chemicals and film to arrive quickly so that I could begin my tests. It seemed that God didn't listen to me, since the postman didn't ring at all. It wasn't that I was bored, it was more that I loved a challenge.

Molly came while I was making cereal box film holders. "Mr. Abba, I was wondering, if you would mind, if Misty and I had a party. The summer school term is ending this next week and we would like to have some friends over."

"Okay, but lets set the ground rules. I will try to be as liberal as possible and you try to work with me. Everything is negotiable."

"We thought we might have ten or so people over. If we do, it is going to spill over into the yard. Misty said that she would cut the grass, if you hadn't already done it by then."

"Well It might grow back, even if I have cut it. You two can do any yard work or decorating you would like, but if you decorate, it comes down the next day."

"Okay, we can do that. How about music? We will probably want to dance."

"The law says music after 11pm has to be confined to your own home. In other words it can't be loud enough to be heard in the street. I can live with that, but all noise has to end by 2AM." If you guys want to set around a talk after 2AM in normal voices, I'm cool with it."

"They should all be gone by 2," Molly stated.

"I know you are over the age necessary to purchase alcohol, but do not dispense it to minors. If one of them gets in trouble afterward, you are all screwed. You don't need a criminal record if you want to work for the city."

"We know that and yes there will be minors but we will be careful."

"Let your drunks sleep it off on the floor."

"I hope their won't be any drunks but okay."

"I will inspect for damages the next day. If there are any I will have them repaired and you will pay the bills."

"How about cleaning and painting can we do that?"

"Sure, I'm talking about holes in the walls. Burns in the carpet anything like that."

"Mr. Abba we are not talking about a drunken brawl here." Molly said seriously.

"Very few people plan for that, but they do sometimes evolve into it. You have the perfect excuse, if you want to use it. Your landlord lives next door."

She smiled. "So would a week from Friday be cool with you?"

"One day is as good as another," I replied.

That same afternoon, I picked up the tee shirts with the lightening bolt logo. They looked just stupid enough to be a struggling courier outfit's uniform. I didn't want to look too prosperous.

I got a chance to use the tee shirts the very next day. Susan called to inform me that she had three more cease and desist court orders to serve. Susan did mostly divorce and civil law cases, so there would be a never ending supply of 'stop what ya doin' court orders to serve. I could live with the three a week thing.

Since I wasn't doing anything else I drove over to pick up the orders. They all were in Williams and all were businessmen. Since none was a divorce, I didn't expect any trouble. I was almost right in my thinking. Two of them were gracious about the cease and desist orders. They had been expecting them and probably had already done whatever they needed to do in advance.

One of the orders did turn out to be a bit different. First of all the guy looked like a snake oil salesman. He wasn't expecting the court order and summons to come from a courier dress so casually. He accepted it and I took his picture holding the envelope with a cheap digital camera. Unfortunately taking the picture gave him time to open the envelope.

I made it out the door before he came out to explain how innocent he was. I had the great pleasure of saying, "Sir, I doubt that you are innocent, none of us really are. Also I just don't give a fuck." I thought for a second that he was going to hit me, but reason won out.

2010-04-03T09:55:00.000-07:00

I went to bed late since I continued to read whatever I could find on the Internet. I slept in only a few extra minutes. I drove directly to the park. I found that it was much easier to walk first thing. All during my walk I tried to think of a way to change my menu without blowing my diet all to hell. I was sick of both eggs and cereal. I just didn't know whatever I could have and stay true to the diet thing. I had lost 12 pounds in a month. From all the things I read, it was excellent progress. I didn't want to waste it, so I tried to come up with something more appealing, without breaking the calorie bank.

I found a biscuit restaurant with a drive thru and a sausage for 350 calories, that was close to the microwave egg sandwich, so I figured I would go for it once a week. The first day that I had one for breakfast, I took it and a large black coffee to the reservoir. I sat in my car, while I watched the water skiers slip over the calm water. I slowly ate my biscuit while drinking my coffee. I thoroughly enjoyed both the view and the sandwich.

I didn't go so far as to pick a day of the week for the morning treat, I just decided that once a week I would leave the house with a thermos of black coffee, then drive to the restaurant. I could take my walk after the picnic breakfast. It did mean that I would have to go a long time on peanut butter cookies before dinner. I was sure that once a week I could handle it..

The next morning it was back to the old routine, but I was comfortable with it as well. The walk gave me plenty of time to think. It also gave me time to do a little soul searching. If I had been in a 12 step program, I would have had a lot of people on my apology list. Since I wasn't I just shook my head and felt bad for about two minutes.

The second sausage biscuit morning I got the call from Susan. Since I had already written a check to the state dept of revenue for the license, all I had to do was stop by her office pick up my new license. After that I would be in business as a courier, licensed process server. I was officially an officer of the court again. As a courier service I could carry freight, not that I had any intention of ever carrying anything that wouldn't fit in a briefcase.

I left Susan's office with a copy of the license, and three more names and addresses. As per my insistence, I also had their place of employment and the make, model, and license number of their cars. It was more information than I needed, but it was better to have it an not use it, than to needed and spend hours trying to run it down.

I checked out the papers in my car and found that I had two men and one woman on the list. Since Susan's office was in Williams, I served two subpoenas there before I returned home for the last one. On that service I got cussed out. I had been cursed before so I just smiled and said, "Thank you." Nothing pissed off an angry man as much as someone who was bigger and badder but wouldn't play along. If he wanted to get his ass kicked, he would have to go to a red neck bar with that attitude.

I stopped by the 'T.. Time Store' on the way home. I knew the owner, so getting a rush order of mixed sized tee shirts with my new logo wasn't a big problem. Even rush, it would take three days. He explained that he just took the order, someone else printed them. With a three day turn around I knew they were not printed in china. I probably could have gotten them online cheaper, but I didn't really want to risk it. I wanted them right or I wanted someone to hold responsible, so I paid a little more I'm sure.

The next morning I emailed the delivery conformation notice to Susan. I explained that I had the signatures to back up my delivery claims. My cell phone rang a few minutes later.

"Check your bank account, I just transferred 90 dollars into it."

"Thanks for the prompt payment."

"It was a pleasure since you served the papers so quickly. I know a couple of other attorneys who could use your service," she suggested.

"Not just now, but maybe later."

"Okay just keep it in mind." she demanded.

2010-04-01T16:23:00.000-07:00

I continued to walk the trail every morning and I read all I could about many things on the Internet. I was a sponge for information all of a sudden. I thought that maybe I should have been some kind of researcher at the library maybe. I would have happily continued my routine for months, if I hadn't owned a cell phone. I had dumped the land line phone when I moved, but the cell still haunted me.

"Hey Abba, I see you are still alive," the voice coming over the cheap cell phone was barely recognizable. Even the poor quality phone couldn't completely disguise the voice of my old partner.

"Yeah, I'm still alive are you?"

"Yeah but some days I have to check the obits to be sure." He said it with a laugh,

"What do you want Charlie, I know you aren't calling to be sociable. You have no social graces at all. I always liked that about you."

"Meet me for lunch at Marie's in thirty minutes and I'll give it up for you."

"You buying?" I asked.

"I'm buying mine," he replied.

"Cheap bastard," I said as I hit the disconnect button. I had time for a cup of coffee and a quick shower before the short drive to Marie's cafe.

If I had to meet a cop for lunch, a cop hangout seemed appropriate. It would be hard to find an hour, of any day, when at least one cop car didn't either sit in front of the cafe, or pass through the parking lot. Marie was the widow of an old bull cop who died on the line. I don't know how other towns treated their dead cop's family, but in Carthage we took care of them like they were our own family. If you wanted to rob a restaurant, it would have been the worlds biggest mistake to choose Marie's.

"Detective Abba, that no good Charlie Speaks is lookin' for you." Marie always greeted everyone who entered. She knew almost everyone of the couple of hundred customers, who passed through on any given day.

"Yeah, that sorry bastard called me on my cell phone. If I had knowed it was him, I would never have answered. He sure as hell ain't worth 10 cents total, let alone 10 cents a minute."

The older black lady burst into a laugh almost as big as she was. She led me to his table shaking her head. Charlie wasn't the only one at the table. Directly across from him sat Louise Mose. Louise had been a rising star, it looked as though she had made it to homicide anyway.

"You know Louise don't you Abba?" Charlie asked.

Yeah I know her. Hey Louise how's it going."

"Not bad John, how you liking retirement."

"Better than I expected actually."

"You look like you lost a few pounds," she suggested.

"Yeah, not being able to afford food has that effect on me."

"Careful what you admit to John, we are looking for someone who could be you."

"Then take me in. I got nothing better to do than sue you." I laughed.

"You remember that guy who raised the dear hounds. The one over in Bethel."

"Sure tobacco chewing, old man with long white hair."

"Yeah, he wore bib overalls," Charlie said.

"What crime did that old man commit. Hit somebody with his walker. He must be a hundred by now,"

"He didn't commit a crime somebody killed him. He was up here shopping at walmart when somebody hit him in the head. They took his wallet."

"Poor old bastard killed for a few bucks. I'm sure he didn't have much."

"His daughter said he paid cash for everything. No telling how much money he had on him."

"Old school," I said.

"How come you remember him," Louise asked looking at me.

"He came to town about twenty years ago. He was much younger and pretty damn tough back then. Me and Charlie was rookies bout that time. Old man got drunk and wanted to fight. Me and him went fist city. I had him down but he wouldn't stop resisting."

"Yeah, Abba hit him in the head with a sap. Old man shook his head then said, "That weren't fair boy." Abba threw the sap about twenty yards."

"Why would you do that?" Louise asked.

"So he couldn't shove it up my ass." I said it with a perfectly straight face. Charlie had set her up and she knew it almost instantly. She knew it from the sound of his laugh. I waited till they both stopped laughing. "Two things a man never forgets, his first women, and his first ass whuppin."

She waited for the laughter to subside, then she asked, "So who was it?"

"Edith Thompson," I said without missing a beat. I had been asked that about half the times Charlie and I told that story. I waited a few seconds then turned to Charlie, "So why tell me about the old man."

"You know the dude who iced him. I thought you might have an idea where he would go after."

"Who you looking for?"

"Baby George," Charlie said.

"Baby George is a no good junkie, but I never knowed him to do no armed robbery."

"He probably thought that the old man would just give it up. Knowing that mean old bastard, he probably kicked Baby in the balls."

"Most likely you can find him at his sister's place down on Cable Street." I said shaking my head in agreement.

"Take some backup if you go there for him," I suggested.

"Why? you said he was harmless," Louise reminded me.

"He is, his witch of a sister isn't. She tried to cut me a few years back."

"Which house on cable?" Charlie asked.

"Used to be that gray two story. It's that second house on the right north of Green."

"Probably ain't gray no more," Louise suggested.

"It ain't been gray in twenty five years," I admitted. "Just some gray flakes hanging on."

The grilled cheese sandwich served with the bowl of soup was delicious. Charlie must have had an informant budget after all, since he paid for my lunch. I said goodbye to the two of them, then drove home.

I was greeted in the drive by Misty. "Did Molly's bitch mother talk to you about me?"

"Nope, she mostly talked to me about Molly. Why? Is she giving you a hard time?"

"She hired someone to check up on me."

"Oh, I had no idea. Why would she do that?" Misty was mad as hell. People often give themselves away when they are angry.

"I have absolutely no idea. I have one of those credit alert things my dad gave me since he pays my credit card bill. I got an email that someone ran my credit check. I called and threatened to go over and whip his ass, so he told me he was doing it for a concerned mother. It wasn't hard to guess who that was."

"Well I had no idea. There isn't anything for him to find is there?"

"Of course not." She paused a few second then added. "Unless you count the two ex husbands, but those were accident, I promise. " She grinned and I knew it was a joke. It wasn't the best time for light humor, but it was harmless. Someone else might have been concerned, but I just laughed.

2010-03-31T08:35:00.001-07:00

Nothing much changed in my life for a week after Ms James visit. Susan continued to work on getting me licensed as a courier company, and I continued to walk in the park. I also spent a lot of time on the computer learning about my new, to me, camera.

The camera arrived in the mail after four days. I didn't even try to use it until I understood it better. What really was a pisser, was the fact that I needed several different skills to pull off my plan and no one place on the net had all the information.

For instance the web site, of the vintage style poster shooter, informed me that he shot a Polaroid model 95 antique camera. The site even had a picture of him holding the monster camera. The camera was not 1850 vintage, but it was 1950 vintage. Since it had a bellows it could easily be mistaken for an earlier camera by people who didn't really know cameras. Most people had a hard time remembering film cameras at all, so I wasn't all that worried.

The 95, I learned from a different site, was probably chosen because it was the first of the Polaroids. It was made by the Wallensak company. All the later models were made by the Polaoid company in their own plants. Most likely the lens was a bit better on the Wallensak made Polaroid.

What the site did not explain was what kind of film to use, since that kind of Polaroid film hadn't been made in well over thirty years. For that I had to do a Google search which lasted most of the day. On another old fart's site I found instructions for using 4x5 film in the camera. Only a complete idiot would go to all that trouble, but that described me to a T. It really allowe me to do most of the things I wanted to do. Even the limitations were actually beneficial to me.

To make more than one exposure with the camera was going to be a real pain in the butt. That being the case, it would force me to be more thoughtful in my shot selection, and more careful in my execution of it. I wouldn't be in competition with digital tourist cameras, I would be in competition with myself to create the shot in one take. As any director will tell you that is the holy grail, one vision turned into a perfect image in a single try.

So the mechanics were difficult but doable, I would open the back of the camera, insert a single piece of 4x5 film, close the camera, then go make the shot come home and process the film. Oh yeah the camera had to loaded and unloaded in the dead dark, so every step had to be thought out carefully. It was not at all like a digital generation disposable image. The digital generation's motto was shoot a hundred to get one image.

So first problem was I didn't have a dark room in which to load the camera. It wasn't likely that I would buld a dark room, so the second choice would be a black bag job. The black or changing bag, was made like a tee shirt. You inserted the camera though the bottom of the tee shirt then zipped it up. Yeah it had a zipper on the bottom and elastic in the sleeves. Once you put your arms inside the sleeves the real work could begin.

I was determined to do everything myself. Partly to save the twenty bucks for the changing bag, and partly it was just to have an outfit like no other. I didn't need the net to figure out how to make my own changing bag. A thick black sweat shirt, a couple of large rubber bands for the sleeves, some spring clamps from the hardware store for the bottom, and a big needle and thread to sew up the neck of it, made a decent changing bag.

After I knew how to load the camera, and I made the changing bag, I ordered the film and chemicals on line. While I was waiting, I thought about how to develop the film. I had developed black and white 35mm film, so I knew that I needed a daylight tank. A daylight tank is just what it sounds like. I would load the film in the changing bag, then i could develop it in the kitchen sink. I went back to the net to find a way to make a tank. There just were not any 4x5 daylight tanks made anymore. Nobody used 4x5 film for the first time those days. Everyone should have had their tanks for years i guessed. Plus only real pros worked in that format. I was far from a pro, so it was a shot in the dark for me.

I did find plans for a DIY 35mm tank on line. It was made from a glass jar. The top was the only hard part. Any jar with a plastic lid would work. It was just a matter of blacking out the jar and making a light tight baffle on the top. The instructions explained that light will not turn the corner but it will light up the corner so a couple of turns were needed to make the baffle. The design was way simple.

I found that my almost empty peanut butter jar was the right depth. I emptied out the jar a bit prematurely. I drilled a hole in the top of the jar, only after a trip to the hardware store for a spade bit. While there I also bought the two fitting, a piece of 3/4 inch PVC pipe and the Jbweld epoxies to hold it all together. I also bought a six pack of black electrical tape, as well as the spring clamps for the black bag. It was not cheap, but then it was cheaper than buying the ready made stuff. And as my daddy said, "Son when you buy a tool to do a job, you can do that same job over and over without buying the took again. When you pay someone to do it, you have to pay them every time."

I had a project for the next couple of days, so I was happy. Since my retirement, I found that I could do a lot more things than I had ever imagined. All those years hanging out around my dad weren't wasted after all.

2010-03-30T17:05:00.001-07:00

Over my years as a cop, I had learned to deal with a problem as best I could, then put it out of my mind and move on. Yes I would often come back to the problem over and over, but I never allowed any one problem to become all consuming. That is what I did with the camera and the courier business, I worked on them till the immediate needs were met, then I just moved on to something else.

The something else that afternoon was not what I had expected at all. The something else was Molly and her mother. "Hello Molly," I said as the two of them approached.

"Mr. Abba, This is my mother," Molly said with a smile.

"Hello Ms. James, it's a pleasant surprise meeting you. Most of my surprises are not pleasant."

"Molly has told me a lot about you MR Abba. I feel much better knowing she has someone close who is reliable."

"I'm not sure how reliable I really am these days, but I will try to take care of her." Since Misty was not around I didn't mention her. I had no idea how much Mom knew.

"So what can I do for you Molly?" I asked it trying not to stare at Ms James. It was hard not to. Ms James took a lot better care of her herself than Molly. She was strikingly beautiful. Like her daughter she was a bottle blonde, but her bleach was a better job. Her hair has at least three colors, so I was sure it had been processed, but it was a beautiful job. She Just had that well taken care of look, very much like Mary Seymore. I wondered why Molly had a more farm girl look. I wondered but I made sure not to ask. Judging from Molly's apparent age, her mother would have to be close to sixty but she really didn't look it. Most likely it was the work of some expensive surgeon. She just did not look like she was the mother of the almost homely Molly.

"Mom and I are going to dinner, I wondered if you would like to join us?" Molly asked. "That is if you don't have any plans/"

"Well to be honest, I have been planning a few quiet evenings at home. Maybe we can do it another time?" I suggested.

"Of course Mr. Abba, I'm sorry we sprang this on you at the last minute. However, I did want to speak with you about Molly. I wonder if we might stop by for coffee after dinner?" Ms James was certainly no shrinking violet.

"Of course, I'll be expecting you. Can you give me an estimate as to the time?" I asked it because some people tend to dawdle over dinner. I didn't want to be tied to staying awake late into the evening.

"Shall we say nineish?" Ms James asked. It was obvious she was the dominant personality in her family. She didn't say, and of course Molly never had, but I guessed that she was divorced.

"That would be just fine," I suggested.

Since it was only six PM at the time, I did some more research. I searched Google for information about motor assisted bicycles. I have a feeling that I could use the bike for more deliveries, if it had a motor assist. I wondered if I could use it as a real tool, not just a subterfuge. It would be interesting at least. The research led me to believe that it might be possible, if I were careful about it. I needed to make some trial runs testing different ideas. It was yet another project to keep me occupied. I tended to stay occupied with things that were of only minor significance, even to me.

The time passed quickly as it almost always did while I was on the computer. I was surprised how spungelike my mind had become. I had always thought that I was too old to learn , I found instead, that things came much easier to me than I would have ever believed possible. The knock startled me.

"Well come on in," I said it to Ms James. Molly was no where to be seen. "Molly isn't coming?"

"No I thought this would be easier, if it were just you and I."

"Oh and why is that?" I had an idea we would be discussing Molly's sex life and I was very uncomfortable at the prospect.

"Frankly it's Molly I hoped to discuss with you."

"I'm sure you know more about her than I do."

"If you are asking do I know that she is gay, then yes I know." Ms James did not beat around the bush.

"Well that takes care of the elephant. So what can I tell you?"

"Tell me that this new woman in her life is not just using her."

I thought about it before I answered. "Since I don't know their financial arrangements, I can't comment one way or another. All I can say is Molly holds the lease and it will be Molly I expect to pay me."

"That's not what I meant. This Misty person who exactly is she?"

"I have no idea except that she told me she was in the criminal justice course at the community college. You could probably find out more from them. I would try to find a classmate willing to talk about her, If I were you."

"I don't know how to do that kind of thing. Since you were a police officer I expect that you do know how."

"I am not an investigator. I am just an old worn out cop. besides right now about all your daughter can offer Misty is a bed to share."

"If that is what Misty believes then there is no problem. It is not the reality of the situation. Molly has nothing at the moment, that is true. However when I die, the situation will be much different."

I had no idea what that meant and didn't really want to know. I made the assumption that Molly stood to inherit a large estate. I didn't care, so I assumed no one else would either. That however was not the way Ms James saw it. People who had money also seemed to have more than a little paranoia about it. I guess it was part of the trade off.

"To be honest I really do not want to look through Misty's laundry for dirt. Just let them enjoy themselves for whatever reason. You can always write your will to make sure Molly doesn't throw the money away."

"So you are refusing to do a background check on her?"

"Yes I am, but there are any number of guys who will do it. Some will even find whatever you want true or not." Ms James did not take that news well. She looked as though she might want to cut my throat, in a most ladylike way of course.