A New Age Mystery Comes to Life Pt. 01

Part 1

The fog of one too many scotch and waters takes a few moments to shake even when the phone is demanding attention. It took three tries before my hand grabbed the infernal beast and jabbed at the answer button. "What!"

"That's no way to say good morning to your favorite brother-in-law."

"You are my only brother-in-law and I still haven't forgiven you for seducing my sister. And it is..." I glanced at the clock groaned. "It is six fucking o'clock on a Monday morning. What the hell do you want?"

"I want you to earn your paycheck this week. We will figure something out for next week later."

"I earned my paycheck when I shoved you out of the way so that damn truck would hit me and save my sister from becoming a widow."

"Details, details. The big bananas in Austin in close concert with the insurance company said 'recovery, rehab, and then desk work.' There is a desk waiting and it is calling your name. Besides, we have a couple of things that really need your talent."

I groaned for Rick's benefit but inside my heart beat a little faster. The opportunity to do something besides trying to hide from the pain was very desirable. Doing something, anything, seemed very worthwhile.

"I'll be in around 7:30. Have coffee and ibuprofen available."

"The coffee is already perked and I got you an industrial-sized bottle of extra strength waiting for you. I'll have a patrol car pick you up in twenty minutes."

"You need to clean out the wax of your ears. You didn't hear a word I said."

"What did you say? This connection is lousy. By the way, Glenda will be the one picking you up." I groaned again as Rick laughed and hung up. It's bad enough that your boss is screwing your sister but when he sends the department beauty queen to pick you up, he is being totally sadistic. After twenty years of competing with and against each other, I should have known that he would throw me a curve ball.

In high school, Rick was the all-district quarterback, the star pitcher on the baseball team, and the leading scorer on the basketball team. I was his tight end, his catcher, and his rebounder. In short, I spent our youth covering his ass and making him look good. It has sort of carried over into adulthood. I spent six years in the Army while he joined the state police. When I got out of the Army, thanks to a couple of gunshot wounds to my shoulder which messed up several bones and nerves, he recruited me into the department. At the time, he was the area head and I reported to him through another intermediary. The intermediary quickly discovered that he was basically useless in that role and just handed me the phone when Rick called with a problem.

In the Army, I was part of a team of analysts who followed up almost any accident or attack to determine who or what went wrong. Those skills fairly easily transferred into my civilian life and I quickly became the area forensic specialist for those jobs that were outside the jurisdiction of a large police force. I worked in tandem with the local police or sheriff 's office to ferret out as much information as possible. I got along well these local guys because they usually got the credit for solving the crime.

After ten years, Rick had been promoted to the regional supervisor for the northern quadrant of the state and I was officially assigned to his staff but I did the same work except on an expanded scale. Three months ago, my investigation led us to a drug dealer's hideout. He took offence that his out-of-the-way lab had been discovered and met our arrival with a flurry of gunfire that would have made the Taliban proud. Rick was moving to a better command position when I saw a truck break out of a barn and head for the highway. I rushed Rick, knocking him behind a patrol car, as the truck's rear fender fish-tailed into me and slapped my body around like a ping-pong ball. The truck ended up in the middle of a tree with the driver's head sticking through the windshield after several bullets slammed into the truck and diverted his attention. I ended up in a heap by the side of the road.

They air-flighted me to the nearest hospital where they tried to put the pieces of my shoulder, back, and thigh back into place again. Several bones were broken and muscles rearranged in my shoulder and back but the worst were my leg, which required surgery to repair. That made it awkward to stand without support and my shoulder made it hard to hold onto a support. Scotch and ibuprofen proved to be a better pain-killers than the prescription ones that the doctors tried to ply me with. So, my recent life had basically been a dull lapse of time filled with meaningless television shows and an occasional bite of food.

After a couple of weeks, the torture began. Initially, the doctors and nurses had treated me gently and called me a hero. But then they brought in a new team of sadistic savages who smiled broadly while they insisted that my broken body should move in ways that it didn't want to. My father would have been proud because I never cried; however, my mother would have objected to the cursing and screaming but I never shed a tear. Well, I never shed one that they could see.

After several weeks of torture, the team of rehab folks celebrated when I stood on my own for the first time. I celebrated by throwing up. They had replaced the cast on my leg with a brace that would have made medieval torture mongers proud. It allowed me to stand but otherwise, I was unable to move. They also celebrated when I was able to lift a two-pound weight from my side to my waist. I celebrated by dropping the weight and sitting down.

Now three months later, I was living back in my house with instructions to walk every day until I could walk a mile and to exercise my arm and shoulder through a range of exercises. I still went in weekly as they monitored my progress but essentially, I was on my own. Since I couldn't drive, my sainted sister drove me to these sessions with stops at the grocery and liquor store on the way back.

Now my sadistic brother-in-law, I will never figure out what my sister saw in him anyway, wants me to go back to work. I will add that to the long list of things that he owes me for. Knowing him, the payback will be offered at my funeral. He sort of expects me to deliver results first and then reap the rewards after he gets his first. Dumb bastard.

I had my pants and loafers on and was wrestling with the buttons on my shirt when the knock at the front door came. I had the choice of standing and hobbling to the door with my shirt unable to hide my chest or I could remain seated and just holler for Glenda to come on in. My choice was simple, "Come on in Glenda, and keep your eyes closed." Let's just say that the rehab therapy hadn't gotten to the point where cleaning house was tolerable.

The door opened and The Glenda walked in. No one would dare call her that to her face for fear of being labeled a sexist pig but the truth is that in my eyes and many others, she was the archetypal role model of a physically beautiful woman. At 5'8" tall and 130 pounds, she could not fail to attract attention when she entered a room. The fact that she had been a competitive swimmer in college and had graduated Summa Cum Laude in Criminal Justice only enhanced her reputation as being a totally beautiful but off-limits woman. Her reputation was solidly in place through her actions as well as her in-office demeanor and performance. If there was a perfect cop, she would be near the top of the list for those who worked with her. I was no exception. I could admire her from afar but felt that she was totally out of my league socially.

She entered in her perfectly tailored uniform with a perfect smile on her face. Her eyes were also wide open. "I said to keep your eyes closed. I can barely tolerate looking around in here. You shouldn't be subjected to such abuse."

Her smile changed to a grin, "I have seen worse. How are you feeling today, Thomas?"

"I feel somewhere between awful and crap. I would offer you a morning cup of scotch but you are in uniform and that wouldn't be good."

"No, it wouldn't and it wouldn't be good for you either on your first day back to work." That infernal grin never left her face although it only enhanced her beauty.

"So that dumb bastard wasn't just being a prick when he said I was coming back to work."

"He was called Friday from headquarters. They think that three months is enough time for recovery and rehab. So, you are back on the schedule."

"I can barely walk across the room and they expect me to work?"

"Yes; something about budget and stuff was mentioned. Besides, our boss has worked out a way for you to work until you are fully healed." Her smile was beginning to be irritating.

"You make it sound like he is doing me a favor. So, what is the deal?"

"I'll let him tell you in person. Now get up and let's get going."

"Can we go through the drive through? I need a coffee and a breakfast taco."

"I have them in the car getting cold. Do you need help buttoning that shirt or are you trying to impress me with your manly chest?"

"Just for that, I ought to make you button it for me." I finished buttoning the top buttons, which were the hardest to reach because I had to raise my arms to chest height. Then I pushed myself into a standing position and carefully took steps towards Glenda and the door.

"Actually, you look like you are doing pretty well." She said as I neared her.

"I don't know what it looks like; I only know what it feels like and it isn't pretty or well." I took a deep breath and opened the door. "After you."

"Well you haven't lost your gentlemanly ways. Thank you."

"My father always said that there is no excuse for not being a gentleman except death and I'm not there yet even if I feel like it."

She gave out an uncharacteristic giggle and replied, "Marla told me about that. She said that you were not an easy student for your father."

"You know Marla?" I grimaced as I tried to bend and fit myself into the front seat of the patrol car.

"Yes." I wanted more of a response than that but she didn't offer anything else and I wasn't in the mood to interrogate her. When I was finally seated, she handed me the cup of coffee and a bag with two breakfast tacos. She had a travel mug in the holder for herself. As she started driving off, she asked, "Marla told me a little about your history with Rick. What is your side of the story with him?"

I had to think for a minute before I responded. Besides, this breakfast taco tasted much better than my usual. Finally, I said, "If you repeat any of this to anyone, I will deny it. We have known each other since the seventh grade when he moved to town. We started playing sports together in the eighth grade. From the first day, he was the star. I was decent but not great. But we kind of competed against each other a lot. As time went on, it kind of became that we pushed each other to get better. I guess that pretty well defines almost everything until now."

"What about the thing you have with him and Marla?"

"When we graduated from high school, he got drafted by the Orioles and went to spring training. He blew his arm out and that finished his baseball career. He came back home and joined the state police. Marla was now a senior in high school and they started dating. I had joined the Army and was tied up all over the place and didn't know about it. When they announced that they were getting married, he asked me to be his best man but the Army wouldn't let me go. So, I kind of use that as an excuse to poke him. I tell him that he didn't really marry Marla but had just seduced her."

She giggled again. I felt that I might be the only person on the force who had ever heard her giggle. Her laugh was distinctive but adult; her giggle was young and personal. "So, are you going to tell me how you know Marla?"

She smiled and said, "She can tell you. It takes too long and we are here. Let's go in and see what awaits us today."

She almost bounced out of the car but it took me several minutes for me to unfold myself and stand erect. She waited patiently with her perpetual smile firmly in place. Finally, I was able to begin the slow walk to the entrance of the regional headquarters building where I hoped that the elevator was working. Walking on a flat was awkward at best; climbing stairs was still a major challenge if there were more than one or two steps.

The shift change had happened at 6:00, so the office was fairly empty of patrol officers but the staff all came to say hello and to see how I was doing. They offered encouragement but I also saw some heads shaking slightly when they looked closely at me. Frankly, that more than any kind words motivated me to get better. People can look at me and feel almost anything about me except pity and sorrow. That pisses me off more than anything. I felt a tug on my arm and I was following Glenda towards Rick's office. She knocked once and then just opened the door and we entered the inner sanctum.

Rick grinned at me before he spoke, "So are you ready to play in the baseball game this weekend against the southern region?"

"Fuck you, prick. You can catch your own pitching from now on."

"Glenda, see that he is there Saturday. I need him for moral support since he is otherwise useless now." Glenda laughed her adult laugh when she saw my nostrils flare. Just for that, I was going to show up in full catcher's gear. I doubted that I could squat like a catcher but if I had a short stool to sit on...

"Now, I don't know what Glenda told you but the powers that be want you back to work. Something about the insurance company thinking that you should be functional now. Before you go ballistic, I told them that there were things you can do but to not expect more than you are capable of doing. We've got a couple of cases that won't require much travel or physical action. We have a lot of physical evidence but no one can make much sense out of it. Some of the research you can do at home. I've got a department computer for you to use and I'll have a secure data line installed this week. What do you think?"

"Besides the fact that that I think the powers that be are still total idiots, I can do anything you need except shield your body again. So, don't go out on any raids any time soon."

He grinned, "My lovely wife already told me that. Oh, she also wants you to come to dinner Saturday night. The kids want to see their uncle again although I don't know why."

"Because I promised to teach them how to cuss and drink beer. That's why. Now what are these projects you want me to work on?" Frankly, the feeling of doing something was suddenly more important than teasing or poking Rick. I wanted, if not needed, to get back to work.

"There are two that might be related or maybe not. That is the first thing we need to find out. The first one happened last week. A truck was stopped out on the Interstate about 100 miles west of here. The driver jumped out and ran before the officer could even talk to him. By the time the back-up got there, he was nowhere to be found. They towed the truck to the garage and discovered that there was a false bottom in the bed that hid two-dozen assault rifles; fully automatic assault rifles. The Feds are tracking down where they came from and we have some print data on the driver but he doesn't show up on any database. It appears that tracing the truck might be the best option."

"Sounds reasonable. How would that be related to the other one?"

"That is what we aren't sure of. Saturday, there was a wreck east of here between a pickup and a gravel truck. The pickup turned out to have a false bed in it too. This one had almost a thousand pounds of coke in it. The driver of the pickup appears to be clean as a whistle and seemed just as surprised as we were about the false bed."

"One truck set up for smuggling would be rare. Two in the same week would be almost impossible." My head was spinning overtime trying to picture how these might be related.

"That's what we think too. So, tracing both trucks back and seeing if they crossed paths anywhere might prove to be a key. At least, that is a start. If it goes somewhere else, then we can bring in the Feds or whoever else needs to get involved.

"Ok, let me see what I can find about the trucks. I will need to take a look at both trucks and talk to the one driver. Do you have a car I can use?"

"Has the doctor released you to drive yet?"

"Sure. He told me last week that I could drive when I was ready and I am ready."

"You make a damn poor liar. Marla said that the doctor told you that it would be at least another month before you would be safe to drive. That's why Glenda has been assigned to you as your partner for the foreseeable future."

"I've never worked with a partner before and most of my stuff is working alone and she must have a dozen things more important to do than chauffer me around and..."

Rick looked at Glenda and said, "I told you. See if you can get him to lose some of that stubborn Swede he has in him. And for your information dumbass, Glenda asked for this assignment because she wants to get more deeply involved in forensics. I think she has an eye on your job. So, treat her well. Now I have a meeting. Glenda, show him his new office and all of the stuff we put together just for him." That last part was said with heavy sarcasm.

I was slow to get out of the seat but Glenda once again showed her patience for me. As I shuffled towards the door, I stopped and asked, "Did you really volunteer for this duty or was he just trying to make me feel good?"

"Actually, I went to him three weeks ago and told him that I wanted to work with you. I had thought that I wanted to be an investigator but recently, I have seen how important what you do is to an investigation and I want to get some experience in that. So, I asked, well I sort of begged to be assigned to work with you. He pretty well told me to figure out how to get you back to work in the least painful way for you. That is what I have been doing."

"I don't know whether to thank you or tell you that you are crazy but thank you for being willing to work with me. I am sort of a loner so you will have to help teach me how to work with a partner."

"I already figured that out. Marla said to just let you mumble and talk to yourself but to listen to what you say."

"I am definitely going to have to talk to my sister about you. I'm not sure I like having a woman know all of my secrets."

"You haven't asked much about me. Maybe I have more secrets than you realize."

"Touché. But I think it will be more fun learning about you than about me."

"I guess it depends on your point of view. I, for one, am excited about this opportunity."

I mumbled something incoherent but she still hadn't lost her smile. She led me back down to the first floor and into a large office in the back of the building. It had at various times been used as room for visiting attorneys, a storeroom for active files, and most recently as the strategy development room. It had two decent desks and tables along with two walls of erasable white boards. I suspected that soon these boards would be filled with scribbles and post-it notes as we began to discover potentially important bits of information. She pointed out the other feature that made it especially good for us; it had a secure door directly to the parking lot. That would make getting in and out easy for me.

She pointed to one of the desks and when I went to it, I saw why. Instead of a regular office chair, there was one that was more like a recliner than an office chair. I wouldn't have to sit in one position for an extended period of time. "Tell whoever thought about this, thanks."

"You just told me. If I am going to pick your brain, I want you comfortable and talkative. So here are the two files on the cases with what we know so far." She handed me the folders. One was thicker that the other by quite a bit. "You can get the gist of them pretty quickly and then we can figure out our next step. Do you want coffee?"