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.

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.

"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.

"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."

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.

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."

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