My Novel: Chapter 7

Running:

I ran errands this morning--me and my speedy little car--and for once, no one was out running. Amazing! Especially when the day was sunny and bright after a cold windy spell. They never hear me, but I always cheer on those runners. Especially the women. Especially the older women. And the chubby women. I've been there. I am there. They signify hope to me, and the power of choosing to grasp life and shape it. Keep running, sisters!

Writing:

I've never read some of the classics, such as Moby Dick, but I have read Wuthering Heights. I've put down books others have raved about because I found them boring, tedious, vulgar or something other than what I wanted to consume. That said, the novel I'm posting is not for everyone. If you're enjoying it, keep coming back! Because I consider vulgarity distasteful, I haven't included it in any of my novels.

  

Be selective: 

No one should feel like they have to wade through every book

Choose your own route... 

Secrets at Midnight

Leona Palmer Haag

Chapter 7 

Curtis waited in the shadows while Matt retrieved a flashlight from his car. Away from the house where Jenn couldn't possibly hear, Matt divulged the sparse details he'd gleaned. “What else?” Curtis asked.

Matt shrugged. “I don't know. I haven't asked.”

Curtis released a slow sigh. “You’re rusty, old man. Where did you go to school, or did you buy a degree off the internet? You obviously paid too much.”

Matt glared at the best man in the department, besides himself and Washington. “It’s hard to proceed, given Washington hasn’t approved of disclosing anything.”

Curtis muttered, “Each to his own.”

“I don’t want you questioning her.”

Curtis glared. “Then what am I doing here, especially with a rookie?”

Bristles tingled across Matt’s shoulders. Ages ago he’d promised Jenn’s mom he'd never let anything bad happen to her—and Curtis, the most aggressive interrogator in the department embodied anyone’s worst depiction of bad. He could picture an explosion blowing sky high when Curtis aimed his sights on the naïve kid. “You don't know what her breaking point is or hope you never reach it, Curtis. You never...”

His friend halted his speech, spitting out curses interspersed with, “You've got it wrong. I hate breaking points—they’re ugly.”

Matt invaded his personal space, towering over Curtis’ thick body. “Then keep tonight pretty.”

Curtis shrugged and stepped away. He shown his flashlight over abandoned trash. “She eats tuna but the rest is a mystery, thanks to a spineless agent.” He zeroed the beam at Matt’s pupils. “I'll question her—without you present. I have faster and better results working solo.”

Matt knocked the light down. “Sorry, but I remain. She's officially in my custody.”

Curtis shrugged, muttering, “I hate seniority, and ought to do something about it.”

“Not tonight,” Matt said. For years Curtis had been saying the same thing as a joke, usually balling his fist, aiming his pointer finger and firing. Matt always responded with, “Unless it’s yours,” and blasted an invisible bullet back, but not tonight. They weren’t in the office and the problem had nothing to do with investigations, reports or expenditures.

Curtis swore under his breath. “Okay, this better be for real.” He faced Matt, pulling himself up to almost the same height despite being several inches shorter. “Let me interrogate her without you opening your mouth. No interference. Got that?”

Matt nodded agreement, then turned his flashlight onto trampled trash scattered deep under the shrubs. “It would help to know if any of this touched the victim's skin and contained a DNA sample. I'd like to know who the dead woman is.”

Curtis’ flashlight zeroed in on a diaper, then darted to a crushed tissue box. “Give me a reenactment and we'll take samples. What was the woman’s position?”

Matt’s light played along a cement seam. “I don’t know.”

Curtis’ eyes bulged. “You really don't? She hasn't shown you? You have no clue what she saw or where the body was?” His beam attacked Matt’s eyes again, but he shielded them with his arm. “What did you do, bribe your instructors for your grades? Cheated on finals?” Curtis’ voice suddenly stopped and he lowered the light, turning it to his own face. A slow smile spread. “You dragged me out of bed to play a practical joke on me?”

Matt hung his head momentarily, then raised it and grinned. “Seniority does strange things, but I’m not dumb enough to tangle with you at his hour, as much as I wish I’d thought of it last week.”

Curtis’ arms fell to his side, his light focusing in a tight circle on the pitted cement driveway. He yawned with boredom. “Okay, I’ll play along. I’m ready to grill our buddy's wife without making her cry, but remember, I don’t take jokes well after midnight when I haven’t slept much in the past seventy-two hours. If this is a joke…”

“Washington’s wife is a straight shooter. You’ll know it’s real.”

His associate shoved past him. “Open the door, take a back seat and watch a pro. We don't have all night. Let's get this over with. And if it’s a set up….”

Matt leapt past Curtis and blocked the way. He dangled the house key in front of his nose. “Be nice, be fast and be thorough. You’ll know Jenn’s serious when you see her.”

Curtis wagged his head. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'll make a great punch line—a great joke in the break room—then I’ll break your head and you’ll pay for it.”

Matt squarely faced his friend. “Don’t make her mad. When you’re done, shut up and get out. Got that?”

Curtis reluctantly nodded agreement and sarcastically muttered, “I’ll be a good boy and let her say her lines and won’t give you away within the first two seconds, but no promises after that. Does she have property insurance?” He smacked his flashlight into his palm several times.

Matt glared at him. “Don’t traumatize her.”

Curtis swore and rammed his shoulder into the door. “Keys—or do I break it down?”

Matt unlocked the door and led Curtis inside. He found Jenn nervously sitting on the sofa with Katie sleeping in her arms. He made quick introductions, asking if she’d ever met Kevin at the office.”

She scrutinized him and shook her head.

Curtis stepped forward and offered his hand. “Nice meeting you. Nick has a picture of you and the little one on his desk.”

Matt motioned Curtis to a chair, then took a seat where he could watch everyone’s expressions. He expected Curtis to start with a bang using his usual pushy style, and was surprised when his friend relaxed into the chair and casually looked around the room before saying, “I hate asking this Mrs. Washington, but it would really help if you'd come outside and show us where you found the body. Maybe Jensen, uh…Matt… can hold your....” He waved his hand toward Katie.

Jenn shrank back, pulling Katie closer.

“You'll need shoes,” Curtis said in an apologetic tone.

Matt slowly rose and crossed the room and took Katie from Jenn's arms. “I'll go with you to get them.” He wanted to yank Jenn up to get things moving, but patiently waited for her to uncurl her legs and stand. He lead the way to the back room as Jenn silently followed, her shoulder dragging against the wall as if too weak to carry her own weight. She stumbled once but didn’t fall. Matt silently vowed to thank Curtis later for his uncharacteristically kind demeanor, and vowed he’d protect Jenn from anything that might traumatize her again. And if he discovered someone had played a sick joke on her, they’d pay dearly for it. 

 End Chapter 7

 Thanks for stopping by today. If you're enjoying what you're reading, come on back. Leave a comment if you'd like. 

And thanks for remembering that this novel is copyrighted. Please do not copy all or any portion of it in any manner without my written consent.