Thursday, August 30, 2018

Chameleon Chapter Eight


Copyright © 2018 by Cole Steele

All rights reserved

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form, or by any means without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Eight

It was almost nine o’clock as I sat reading through emails. The serenity I had enjoyed for the previous fifteen minutes abruptly came to a screeching halt. Willow had arrived like a photo finish at the Kentucky Derby in dramatic fashion. She glanced at the clock on the wall before saying anything.

“Sorry, the bus forgot her this morning.  I had to drop her off at school.”
“You want some...?”

I quickly realized the mention of tea from yesterday.


“No thanks.”
Willow’s desk phone rang. She stared at it for a second.

“You going to answer it?”

“Of course, it’s just that the caller ID is..?”

“What?”

“The Acropolis hotel with all zeros for a number.”

“Answer it.”

Willow Darby quickly took the receiver off the hook placing it next to her right ear shrugging the same side shoulder keeping it in place as she sought out a notepad and paper.

“Detective Willow Darby. Yes, he’s right here.”

Looking across the desk she mouthed the words stating it was for me.

“Who?”

She tapped the mute button.

“Alex Razin, says he’s been trying to call you.”

Taking out My cellphone it showed 3 missed calls and a few texts. The dam thing never rang.

“Put him on hold and I’ll pick it up.”

“Ok.”

Willow pushed a button the light only blinking once before I answered.

“Detective Lee”

“Roman, it’s Alex. We need you to come to the Acropolis immediately. No sirens or lights.

“Alex, where’s my brother.”

“It’s not Micah, he’s actually the one... I’ll explain further when you arrive, please hurry.

He had been vague and careful with his words. Whatever it was he wanted discretion and confidentiality.

My brother and the Razin family had been thick has thieves ever since his parole from the state pen. He had done a few years for opioid possession. His demise had been more or less driven by his addiction. Micah had started in the Razin’s grocery store working as a stock clerk. Soon after he was employed by the boys for security in their club on the river then promoted as director. Micah had picked up boxing again since parole working his way through club fights to a contender in his weight class. The Razin brothers immediately recognized his talent and backed his training.

The Acropolis was directly across the river from the Parthenon which was the other casino and hotel owned by the Razin brothers just outside the city limits of Kirkwood. It rivaled any casino hotel combination in Vegas. Large Greek statues dominated the first floor including the lobby and gaming areas.
A valet came out to meet us as we stopped under the canopy a few feet from the main entrance lined with revolving glass doors.
Quickly flashing our ID’s the valet promised to keep an eye on the Chevelle.

There was a flash of lights approaching us as a caravan of dark window tinted Chevrolet Suburbans pulled up to the entrance.  Like a swarm of hornets on a piece of rotten fruit the paparrazi materialized out of thin air waiting for the doors to be opened on one of the vehicles.  The hotels security detail quickly kept them confined to a roped off area although a few of them tried to get closer for a better view.  Willow walked around to the front of the Chevelle and stood next to me for a second.

“Wonder who that is?”

“No idea.”

My cellphone went off.  It was my brother Micah.  I quickly answered.

“What’s going on?”

“Are you here?”

“Just pulled up, why?”

“Get in the elevator, tenth floor. I don’t think she’s going to wait much longer, hurry.”

“What in the hell is going on, Micah?”

“Goddammit, hurry.”

We made our way to the bank of elevators in the lobby taking the first available one to the tenth floor.  As the doors opened the entire hallway was quiet as a church congregation before an opening prayer on a Sunday morning.  Two tall muscular males wearing white polo shirts with the hotels logo on them motioned us to a suite directly across from the elevators entrance.  The door read number 1013 and it slowly cracked opened as my brother stood there.  My brother was a just a tad shorter than me at approximately six foot.  Micah Lee had on a tailored designer suit with a neatly pressed white dress shirt and gold tie.  His shoes were polished to perfection.  He whispered quietly.

“She’s on the ledge.”

“Who?”

“Someone who’s thinking about checking out.”

“Obviously not in the traditional sense.”

“Think she’s high as fuck.  Her eyes are red as the devil.  She’s not making any sense either and keeps babbling.”

“How long has she been out there?”

“No idea.”

“How did you know she was out there?”

“Someone called the front desk anonymously from a cell phone.”

“She a prostitute?”

“How the hell should I know.”

“We have a specialist downtown for this sort of thing.”

“Did you see who pulled up?”

“No, we walked in before they opened a door.”

“The hotel booked the biggest country music name out there for a concert this weekend. This was the last thing they needed to fuck it up.  You know how they are when it comes to their reputation.”

“Yeah, all too well.”

“Can you make sure she doesn’t hit the concrete?”

“Why isn’t Alex up here?  This is his fucking hotel, am I right?”

Willow took a few steps toward the window then turned.

“Jesus, she’s going to jump if we don’t do something.  Which direction out the window? Right or left?”

Micah looked toward the curtains that were waving in the strong morning breeze.”

“Left.”

Willow set her purse down on a nearby table.

“I need a few things.  But you need to move your ass now and get them, understand.”

Micah whispered out into the hallway to his security detail.

“Boys.”

My partner wasted little time with instructions.

“I need a pot of coffee with two cups, a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.”

Micah returned looking at his phone.

“Be a few minutes but it’ll be here.”

I looked over at her.

“What’s your plan?”

“Let me try and talk to her.”

“Coax her close to the window and grab her?”

“No. That’s the last thing we want to do.  The hero thing doesn’t work well in these situations.”

“How do you know?”

“I watched Carl Reese, our crisis intervention specialist a couple of times.”

“That’s why he needs to be here right now instead of us.”

“But he’s not, so we need to do something.”

“Alright, your show.”

Willow Darby walked over to the window taking the curtains and draping them over a chair.  She carefully approached the opening, glancing to her left almost as if she were expecting an armed suspect to shoot at her.  It was similar to the instruction we received when clearing a room while training with our tactical unit on occasion.  There were only two corners, right and left and you divided the potential open space into small finite slices, as you would a pie.  You moved slowly and deliberately.

She turned back toward us after spotting the woman out on the ledge.  Willow shook her head and walked back.  I didn’t like her expression.

“What?”

“Whoever she is, has moved far from the window now.”

“How far?”

“Almost over to the next room.”

“Micah, anyone home next door?”

“Let me try my pass card, but I think it’s occupied.”

“They’re getting a fucking courtesy wake up call then.”

The small green indicator light flashed as my brother opened the door a little to look inside the suite.  He motioned for us to follow.  There was a set of luggage on the bed but no visible owner, anywhere.

“Must be downstairs in the casino.”

“Or out on the ledge introducing themselves.”

“Bro, really?”

“Your boss is the one that called us out here right?”

Micah looked at me then Willow for a moment.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with this every day.”

The items Willow had requested were brought into the room and placed on a small table before I could respond.  Pouring two cups of coffee she took them over to the window placing one outside casually on the ledge.  The woman looked strung out, disheveled and as though life had beaten her into submission.  Her brown eyes were glazed over and dominated by a bloodshot appearance.  Taking a sip Willow looked over at her noticing that all of the toes on the woman’s bare feet were flexing and trying to grip the concrete ledge.

“Sure is a beautiful morning.”

Turning her head towards Willow she looked over then down.

“I’m Willow Darby, nice to meet you.  Would you like some coffee or a smoke?”

She didn’t reply aloud but rather mumbled incoherently.

“There’s some nice furniture inside here where we can sit and talk if you’d like.  You know, girl talk.  Just you and I.  Probably a lot more comfortable too, although the breeze is refreshing I must admit.

The woman in her early thirties slid her feet in the direction of the open window closest to Willow.  An indication of potential reconsideration. She spoke with an accent which sounded Russian.

“Dah, smoke.”

Willow pulled her head back inside asking for a cigarette and the lighter.   With the cigarette dangling from her mouth she lit it then climbed up into the window, bracing herself on both sides of the frame. Trying not to be too loud I had to say something.
“Darby, easy will ya.”

Of course my brother couldn’t resist from putting in his two cents.

“The new partner has got balls bro, I’ll give her that.  Temple would have never done anything…”

Willow stuck her head back inside again.

“Jesus you two, can you cut it out for like two minutes?”


She took the cigarette from the end of her mouth but first took a long draw from it blowing the smoke off to the side before leaning out and handing it to the woman.


Sorry, haven’t did that since my senior year in high school. Wow, that was a long time ago. Anyways
there unfiltered and I....


“Cigarette is fine.”


The woman spoke coherently for the first time.  She took long deep hits off a Marlboro, eventually letting the smoke escape her nostrils after what seemed like an eternity.  Her head rested against the wall as she closed her eyes.  Willow noticed the woman’s body seemed to relax a little from the nicotine infusion.

“How about that coffee now?”

A bright red glow burned at one end of the cigarette as a final drag filled the woman’s lungs just before she let the butt plummet to the ground far below.  The tiny ember disappeared from view after being tossed around in the breeze.

“Coffee?”

Willow studied the woman for a moment as she leaned back against the wall closing her eyes. 

“I didn’t get your name.”

“Sasha.”

“How long have you been out here?  I’m sure someone has to be worried.”

“There is no one. I’m what you call expendable, I think you say it.”

She casually looked at the woman’s exposed arms looking for obvious signs of drug abuse.  A few tattoos but no track marks were the only things that had altered the skin’s surface.

“Every human being on this earth has value, Sasha.”

“So you say.”

“I do, and I believe it.”

“Tell that to bitch who did not pay, and then calling me cheap Russian hoar.”

“Did she harm you?”

“Said would have me deported after slapping me in face if I complained about payment.”

“I suppose your talent agent is gonna be upset about getting stiffed, no pun intended.”

Sasha cracked a slight smile, then continued in her thick accent.

“You have sense of humor, Willow.”

“The offer on the coffee still stands, you want to come inside?”

“What about men in other room?  I hear them talking.”

“Like I said before, girl talk.  Let me get rid of the boys.”

Willow jumped down back inside landing on the floor with relative ease.  There were some tense whispering in the hallway as the registered guest had now shown up wanting to get in his room and go to sleep off his night of drinking and gambling.

“Can you guys clear out for a little?”

Micah signaled to his security detail to escort the guest back to the elevator but he wasn’t having any of it.  He shouted.

“How long is this going to take? Let the slut jump already.  There’s plenty of em around.  I’ll even pay to watch her bounce off the pavement.  The meter is running on my room there and I’ve got an important meeting this afternoon.”

He pulled out a wad of hundred dollar bills that would have choked a fucking rhino.  My new partner Willow Darby, went flying by me in the air like some trained MMA fighter and landed a fist into the man’s cheekbone sending him stumbling back into the elevator door across from the room.  If anyone appreciated the display it was my brother, Micah Lee.

“Oh my god, bro.  Where did you find her?  She definitely has big cajonas.  Someone needs to line up a fight and I want front row.”

Willow cuffed him easily, then grabbed him by the collar pulling him up onto unsteady feet.

“To answer your question asshole, as long as it takes.  Now you can get your beauty sleep down at the county lockup for obstruction.”

Our guest nearly fell as I took him from her and pressed the elevator’s button to go down.  Looking over I could see a dribble of blood leaking out the side of his mouth.

“See you in the car.”

“Thanks.”

Willow went back inside the suite to find Sasha sitting at the table.  She had found the cigarettes and a plume of smoke now hung in the room.  Picking up the white carafe, she poured a cup of coffee for the both of them and then sat down across from her.

Micah rode in the elevator alongside us.  He was texting on his phone, smiling to himself. 

“She’s full of surprises, that one.”

“Married?”

“Divorced, don’t get any ideas.”

“I’m not, simply asked a status question that’s all.”

“That’s just great.  Not even a week on the job.  She likes Saul’s greasy cooking and you’re making eyes now.  Not to mention the mixed martial arts demonstration on our friend here.  Someone truly hates me.”

“She is cute.”

“Enough already.”

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Depends.”

“Take our cheerleader friend here to the loading dock so a patrol car can pick him up.”

“That’s it?”

“I also need the key for the top floor.”

“He’s in a meeting still, I think.”

“I’ll wait.”

“One more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“The woman from the ledge, it didn’t take her long to come inside.  You knew didn’t you?”

“Alex didn’t want to take any chances.”

“Who is she?”

“Some crazy bitch that’s always hanging out in the hotel.  I think she has some sort of personality disorder.”

“No shit.”

“A few months ago she claimed her cover had been blown and some rogue Mossad agent from Israel was trying to kill her.”

“Quite the imagination.  I think we’re going to take her to Memorial so she can get some professional help.”

“Not a bad idea but I’m thinking that they may have seen her before over there.”

“She on meds?”

“Don’t think she’s taking them if there’s an existing prescription.”

“Our mental health system is so fucked anymore.”

We reached the first floor where Micah could relocate our detainee to a service elevator out of sight of other registered guests.  He took a few steps out before I got his attention.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Key.”

Reaching into his jacket he pulled it out and walked back handing it to me.

“Make sure I get it back.”

“Give it to you on the way out.”

“See you later.”

“Take care of our friend there.”

“I got him.”

The doors closed after I pressed a button.  Micah’s access key gave me the override code to reach the top floor which housed the offices of the Razin brothers.  Rising higher and higher the elevator car seemed to gain speed before slowing down until it settled at its final stop.  There were no interruptions on the way given the keys ownership privileges. 

Alex Razin’s secretary greeted me before my shoe touched a fiber of the plush carpet that covered the top floor of the Acropolis.  Rose Burchmeier sat behind her desk as the light from her computer monitor reflected off the reading glasses perched near the end of a slightly pointed nose.  A light sweater covered her shoulders to keep the chill from the office air at bay.  She was in her mid-fifties, well organized and an absolute workaholic.  Gone were the days of trying to conceal age with hair color as her natural dark was almost naturally engulfed in gray.

“Roman, so nice to see you.  I’m going to guess that you borrowed your brother’s key.  Alex will be out momentarily.  Would you like a cup of coffee while you wait?”

“Now you and I both know I won’t get a sip of it and that door will open.”

The sounds of a handle turning directed our attention to Alex Razin’s office entrance.  Rose looked at me then back to her computer’s monitor, smiling.

“That’s one of the reasons you’re a good detective, Roman.”

Alex Razin was dressed in an expensive designer suit standing in the doorway.

“Hopefully it’s not the only one.  Roman, how are you?”

I motioned for him to go back into his office that took up nearly one half of the floor which included a master suite fit for royalty.  The heavy wooden door shut behind us.

“You have a minute?”

“Always, what’s on your mind, Roman?”

Alex Razin had put on some noticeable weight in the last few months since I had seen him last.  The comforts and spoils of a multi-millionaire had started to manifest themselves around his waistline.

“Looking a little fluffy there.”

He adjusted his suit coat examining a button.  Looking back up at me he sighed.

“Too dam busy anymore for exercise.  What the fuck, we’re guys.  We just buy bigger clothes, right?”

“Some spend a little more than others following that philosophy.”

I pointed to his expensive taste in clothing at a nearby rack of freshly ironed shirts.

“I’ll get back in the gym soon.  You’re the only honest son of a bitch around here besides your brother.  Everyone else I think is too scared to piss off the boss, well maybe Rose.”

We both laughed for a minute.

“I’m just busting your balls.”

“I know, but Jesus I am looking pregnant for fuck’s sake.”

He adjusted his coat once more before finally taking it off and placing it on the back of a chair.

“I’ll be quick.”

“Yeah, you were going to say something before we got sidetracked.”

“The woman who got our attention earlier this morning.  You knew of her, prior to calling us out?”

“Complete psycho.”

“Why didn’t you simply have her banned from the property?”

“I think we’ve tried on several occasions.  She just keeps coming back like some venereal disease that you can’t shake.  Micah thinks she’s meeting guests online and getting in that way.  Have you arrested her?”

“She’s talking to my new partner right now in one of the rooms.  We’re going to take her to Memorial, maybe a psychiatrist can authorize an extended stay somewhere.  Keep her out of your hair for a few days.”

“So Temple retired?”

“Yeah.”

“Did he do what most seniors do when they hit the golden age?”

“What’s that?”

“Move somewhere warm and fish all day.”

“Good guess.”

“He seemed like a simple straightforward guy.”

“I learned a lot from him.”

“What about this new one?”

“Jury’s still out.”

“Sounds like it will shake things up a bit.”

“Maybe, but she adapts quickly.”

“She?  What’s her name?”

“Willow Darby.”

“Different.”

“I think my brother has a thing for her already.”

Alex Razin chuckled.

“Like I said, it’ll shake things up for you.”

“You really have no idea.”

“I appreciate you taking care of this little matter for us, Roman.”

“Protect and serve.”

“Cut the shit.  You know what I mean.”

“How was your meeting?”

“They booked two future dates for next year, including playing here for the weekend.”

“Sounds good.”

“There’s so much bullshit that goes on behind the scenes to make it all happen.”

“Probably the same stuff that goes on with late night talk shows and their guests.”

“Times ten.”

“I bet they whine like spoiled brats.”

“Musicians are easy, it’s the fucking comedians.”

“Really.”

“Green M&M’s only, certain types of flowers in their dressing rooms and they better be fresh, Jesus Christ it never ends.”

“Success is a bitch isn’t it.”

“It’s not easy, especially protecting your reputation.  Just like sports teams.  America likes winners for only so long.  The ones that cheered you on in the beginning are often delighted when you get taken out.”

“True statement.”

My phone vibrated with an alert.  Willow was waiting in the car with Sasha or whatever name she had decided on for the moment.

“We’ll talk again soon.  Text me or something, Roman.”

“Think you can get us a couple of tickets for the concert?”

“Sure.  Just let me know which night.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Rose was busy typing on her keyboard at breakneck pace.  Never pausing to look up she spoke as I walked by her desk on the way to the elevator.

“Not going to say goodbye?”

“Didn’t want to interrupt.”

“I’m certainly capable of doing two things at once detective.”

“Goodbye Rose.”

“Nice seeing you again, Roman.”

The elevator ride down to the lobby was fluid with no stops in between thanks to Micah’s key.  He was waiting by the front desk as I handed it to him.

“Thanks.”

“They’re out in the car.”

“I know.”

“See ya, Micah.”

“You think maybe…”

“What’d I say earlier?  Don’t start.”

“Alright.  You taking psycho out there down to county?”

“Memorial actually, see if we can get her some help and a path back to reality.”

“Good luck.”

Sunday, August 26, 2018

The Crim 2018

A quiet morning drive into the city of Flint on August 25, 2018 found an abundance of activity just blocks away from where we parked due to numerous law enforcement agencies cordoning off the downtown area.  It allowed me an opportunity to see the very first gym my father took me too when I was younger.  It was my home away from home, spending countless hours within it's walls working out and learning how to improve myself.  Truly,  it was the greatest gift I had ever received in terms of developing self confidence.


The bricks that lined the middle of downtown with so much history behind them were definitely a sight  for sore eyes.  It was nice to be back home again.


Our timing was impeccable getting to the Expo Center to pick up our race packets.  Then we were off for a few photo opportunities.


The color of our running attire (Jumpsuit Orange) made me slightly nervous after seeing this parked not too far away.


This sign is perfectly placed behind the "Capitol".


The starting line.


The irony of where we started the Crim due to our expected finish times was something else.  Although the space had been converted to a Post Office, it once housed a restaurant where I worked.  The one thing I struggled with was having to evict the transients who sat drinking coffee all day until closing time.  Homelessness still plagues our country.


A few miles into the race I happened to go by a place where we jumped the wall on Sunday afternoons to play tackle football on a turf field minus the pads as a kid.  Great memories!


Just a little farther in I had the opportunity to pass by my old middle school (St. John Vianney) or also known as Donovan South back in the day.  A quick shout out to my "Viking" classmates and alumni!


One of the best things about the Crim were the various sources of entertainment in the neighborhoods along the route.  Also the different beverages being offered from water to champagne and even an occasional jello shot made it interesting.


Approaching the finish line was a great feeling of mission accomplished.  Miles 7-9 seemed to consume most of my time for some unknown reason.


Running with my son in the race made for great memories that will last a lifetime.  A tradition I plan on continuing.


Thank you to all of the volunteers and emergency personnel.  It was a spectacular event.  Until next year.
















Monday, August 13, 2018

"Chameleon" The Ledge


Copyright © 2018 by Cole Steele
All rights reserved
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form, or by any means without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Acropolis was directly across the river from the Parthenon which was the other casino and hotel owned by the Razin brothers just outside the city limits of Kirkwood. It rivaled any casino hotel combination in Vegas. Large Greek statues dominated the first floor including the lobby and gaming areas.
A valet came out to meet us as we stopped under the canopy a few feet from the main entrance lined with revolving glass doors.
Quickly flashing our ID’s the valet promised to keep an eye on the Chevelle.

There was a flash of lights approaching us as a caravan of dark window tinted Chevrolet Suburbans pulled up to the entrance.  Like a swarm of hornets on a piece of rotten fruit the paparrazi materialized out of thin air waiting for the doors to be opened on one of the vehicles.  The hotels security detail quickly kept them confined to a roped off area although a few of them tried to get closer for a better view.  Willow walked around to the front of the Chevelle and stood next to me for a second.

“Wonder who that is?”

“No idea.”

My cellphone went off.  It was my brother Micah.  I quickly answered.

“What’s going on?”

“Are you here?”

“Just pulled up, why?”

“Get in the elevator, tenth floor. I don’t think she’s going to wait much longer, hurry.”

“What in the hell is going on, Micah?”

“Goddammit, hurry.”

We made our way to the bank of elevators in the lobby taking the first available one to the tenth floor.  As the doors opened the entire hallway was quiet as a church congregation before an opening prayer on a Sunday morning.  Two tall muscular males wearing white polo shirts with the hotels logo on them motioned us to a suite directly across from the elevators entrance.  The door read number 1013 and it slowly cracked opened as my brother stood there.  My brother was a just a tad shorter than me at approximately six foot.  Micah Lee had on a tailored designer suit with a neatly pressed white dress shirt and gold tie.  His shoes were polished to perfection.  He whispered quietly.

“She’s on the ledge.”

“Who?”

“Someone who’s thinking about checking out.”

“Obviously not in the traditional sense.”

“Think she’s high as fuck.  Her eyes are red as the devil.  She’s not making any sense either and keeps babbling.”

“How long has she been out there?”

“No idea.”

“How did you know she was out on the ledge?”

“Someone called the front desk anonymously from a cell phone.”

“She a prostitute?”

“How the hell should I know.”

“We have a specialist downtown for this sort of thing.”

“Did you see who pulled up?”

“No, we walked in before they opened a door.”

“The hotel booked the biggest country music name out there for a concert this weekend. This was the last thing they needed to fuck it up.  You know how they are when it comes to their reputation.”

“Yeah, all too well.”

“Can you make sure she doesn’t hit the concrete?”

“Why isn’t Alex up here?  This is his fucking hotel, am I right?”

Willow took a few steps toward the window then turned.

“Jesus, she’s going to jump if we don’t do something.  Which direction out the window? Right or left?”

Micah looked toward the curtains that were waving in the strong morning breeze.”

“Left.”

Willow set her purse down on a nearby table.

“I need a few things.  But you need to move your ass now and get them, understand.”

Micah whispered out into the hallway to his security detail.

“Boys.”

My partner wasted little time with instructions.

“I need a pot of coffee with two cups, a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.”

Micah returned looking at his phone.

“Be a few minutes but it’ll be here.”

I looked over at her.

“What’s your plan?”

“Let me try and talk to her.”

“Coax her close to the window and grab her?”

“No. That’s the last thing we want to do.  The hero thing doesn’t work well in these situations.”

“How do you know?”

“I watched Carl Reese, our crisis intervention specialist a couple of times.”

“That’s why he needs to be here right now instead of us.”

“But he’s not, so we need to do something.”

“Alright, your show.”

Willow Darby walked over to the window taking the curtains and draping them over a chair.  She carefully approached the opening, glancing to her left almost as if she were expecting an armed suspect to shoot at her.  It was similar to the instruction we received when clearing a room while training with our tactical unit on occasion.  There were only two corners, right and left and you divided the potential open space into small finite slices, as you would a pie.  You moved slowly and deliberately.

She turned back toward us after spotting the woman out on the ledge.  Willow shook her head and walked back.  I didn’t like her expression.

“What?”

“Whoever she is, has moved far from the window now.”

“How far?”

“Almost over to the next room.”

“Micah, anyone home next door?”

“Let me try my pass card, but I think it’s occupied.”

“They’re getting a fucking courtesy wakeup call then.”

The small green indicator light flashed as my brother opened the door a little to look inside the suite.  He motioned for us to follow.  There was a set of luggage on the bed but no visible owner, anywhere.

“Must be downstairs in the casino.”

“Or out on the ledge introducing themselves.”

“Bro, really?”

“Your boss is the one that called us out here right?”

Micah looked at me then Willow for a moment.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with this every day.”

The items Willow had requested were brought into the room and placed on a small table before I could respond.  Pouring two cups of coffee she took them over to the window placing one outside casually on the ledge.  The woman looked strung out, disheveled and as though life had beaten her into submission.  Her brown eyes were glazed over and dominated by a bloodshot appearance.  Taking a sip Willow looked over at her noticing that all of the toes on the woman’s bare feet were flexing and trying to grip the concrete ledge.

“Sure is a beautiful morning.”

Turning her head towards Willow she looked over then down.

“I’m Willow Darby, nice to meet you.  Would you like some coffee or a smoke?”

She didn’t reply aloud but rather mumbled incoherently.

“There’s some nice furniture inside here where we can sit and talk if you’d like.  You know, girl talk.  Just you and I.  Probable a lot more comfortable too, although the breeze is refreshing I must admit.

The woman in her early thirties slid her feet in the direction of the open window closest to Willow.  An indication of potential reconsideration. She spoke with an accent which sounded Russian.

“Dah, smoke.”

Willow pulled her head back inside asking for a cigarette and the lighter.   With the cigarette dangling from her mouth she lit it then climbed up into the window, bracing herself on both sides of the frame. Trying not to be too loud I had to say something.
“Darby, easy will ya.”

Of course my brother couldn’t resist from putting in his two cents.

“The new partner has got balls bro, I’ll give her that.  Temple would have never done anything…”

Willow stuck her head back inside again.

“Jesus you two, can you cut it out for like two minutes?”


She took the cigarette from the end of her mouth but first took a long draw from it blowing the smoke off to the side before leaning out and handing it to the woman.


Sorry, haven’t did that since my senior year in high school. Wow, that was a long time ago. Anyways
there unfiltered and I....


“Cigarette is fine.”

The woman spoke coherently for the first time.  She took long deep hits from the Marlboro, eventually letting the smoke escape her nostrils after what seemed like an eternity.

Thursday, August 2, 2018

"Line Break" 2018 Bonus Chapter


Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form, or by any means without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.


Eleven



The feeling of something sharp poking his lower back caused John Bentley to roll over away from an annoying pain.  A sudden smell of dirt from the outside air immediately brought him out of what was thought to be a deep slumber.  Opening his eyes brought him face to face with the bottom half of a birch tree.  Its bark peeling away with some of the deadfall branches lying nearby.  It had to be a dream.  Sitting up he took notice that he had on exactly the same clothes he had worn to work the previous day minus the tie.  He was full of mud all the way to his bare feet.  Looking east the sun was getting ready to break the horizon bringing more daylight with it as he tried to gauge the time.  Nothing looked familiar to him.  Getting to his feet he accidentally stepped on something that caused him to curse aloud.  Leaning against the tree lifting his foot up brought an unwelcomed sight.  A giant wooden sliver was protruding through the skin of the arch bringing blood along with it.  Reaching down while attempting to maintain balance he went to remove it while cool mud squished between his toes on the other foot.  Surprisingly it came out with little resistance but it certainly wasn’t short of painful throbbing once he had been freed from its torment.  Gently putting the foot back down he surveyed his surroundings once more.  His house was only a hundred yards away.

Trying each door around the house he disappointedly found them all locked.  Not wanting to wake his wife he hobbled to the front standing on the somewhat smoother even surface of his driveway facing the garage.  Closing his eyes everything became cloudy although he could sense the wireless signals around the perimeter.  The door lifted partially stopping about a quarter of the way.  Focusing his concentration it did not move another inch.  Resigned to fatigue he flattened himself and slid sideways underneath pushing himself up inside to stand.

Trina had slid her hands underneath the sheets upon hearing the shower being turned on to find an empty space beside her.  Retrieving the robe laying at the end of their bad she walked to the bathroom door it closed before she reached for the handle.  She went downstairs into the kitchen preparing her ritual breakfast as she did every morning.  Placing a mug of coffee across from her she waited for him.

The waters temperature hadn’t even changed a degree before he gingerly stepped under the showerhead letting the ice cold liquid poor over his body to shock him awake.  Looking down at the arch of his foot it was swollen now turning bright red from the inflammation.  Carefully getting out onto the bath mat he shut the heavy door locking it.  He took some rubbing alcohol from underneath the sinks cabinet with him back into the shower.  Balancing on one foot leaning against the wall to steady himself he poured the contents into the wound.  Not only was the wound burning mercilessly his entire head throbbed now, it subsided as he flushed the opening with cool water bringing much needed relief.  After toweling himself dry, he found a great looking suit from the walk in closet along with a matching tie and white dress shirt.  Sitting down at the end of bed he noticed it already been made as he took his time sliding a black dress sock over the affected arch of his foot.

“How was your first full day?”

She sipped her coffee looking at her phone not bothering to make eye contact.

“Still mad?”

“You could have at least texted or something.  Dinner migrated from the table to the microwave eventually making its way into the refrigerator.  I see you found the beer though.”

“Late night.  I’m sorry.  I even skipped lunch.”

“The life of a new and unique executive I guess.”

“It was my fault entirely, you’re right I should have said something.”

“I didn’t mean to be such a bitch yesterday.  Maybe it’s the hormone swings with the pregnancy.  I’ve been reading a little.”

“I saw the book sitting behind you.”

“What you did was cruel.”

“Didn’t think I was that convincing to be honest.”

“Well you must have tuned out the hysterics on this end.”

“Come here.  I’m sorry.”

He held onto her for several minutes as the sun’s light illuminated the kitchen.  Both turned to watch the beautiful view from the window for a moment.

“I meant to ask you something.”

“What is it?”

“Do you realize that your pupils change a bit when you…..”

“Oh, that.  Yes, it’s only temporary though.”

“So you do know then.”

“The very first time in the hospital room shortly after surgery.”

“It doesn’t bother you.”

“I discounted it as part of the integration process.”

“Has it gotten any better?”

“Somewhat.”

A blatant lie that was delivered with an impeccable performance given the events of the past few hours.

“You kind of shut the door on me earlier.”

“I thought you were still asleep and didn’t want to disturb you.”

The beeping sound echoed down the hallway signaling the end of a cycle.

“Is that the washing machine?”

“Thought I might try to pitch in after watching you folding clothes yesterday.”

A sense of uncertainty played out in the back of his mind, wondering if the mud filled clothing would actually come clean, certainly not wanting to continue building a house of cards propped with continual lies.  What in the hell had happened in the middle of the night?  Why was he laying outside like some wild animal next to a tree?

“Thank you.  You’d better get going or you’ll be late.”

“See you around dinner time, I promise.”

As Trina watched the Mercedes back down the driveway she walked toward his workspace.  All the power had been turned off.  Placing a hand on one of the monitors it was cool to the touch.  She could have sworn in the middle of the night that he had gotten up out of bed at least once.