The Official Website of Author Derek Barton
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In case you weren’t aware, I now have a YouTube Channel with several book trailers.
Crime/Horror-Suspense Series
Epic Fantasy Series
Classic Horror Story
These are great reading during your WFH downtime or… Go to Audible.com and immerse you in these narrated novels!
Stay safe – stay healthy!! Thanks for all your interest and support!
That’s right — Two great series openers for just a dollar each during this limited time.
Also both are available on Audible for your listening pleasure.
The echoes of a Jackson Ross’ heartbeats overwhelmed all the other noises in the crampt van. The beeps, whines and tones from all the machinery and technology were trumped by the recording of his heartbeat.
Jackson sat in the center of the van in a whirlwind of agents, technicians and scientists. They were prepping him with multiple cameras, recording gadgets and monitor devices. Yet he was dimly aware of their presence and the chaos of the experiment preparations. He didn’t care what they were doing. Their efforts mattered only to them and “their groundbreaking steps for crime solving and justice”.
He, however, was swallowed up by the sounds of his heart beating. It snared his attention and captured his focus as he was getting closer to the answers. Closer than he had ever gotten. His pulse increased as his thoughts raced. His nerves were strained, the pressure to find her was intense.
Am I going to finally get a reason? Will this be enough to nail the bastard? Can they really resolve her murder? Or maybe find where he hid her?
“Jackson, I’m going to patch…” The voice faded. “Jackson? Jackson, are you okay?”
He slowly raised his head and met her gaze.
“You with us?” Dr. Laura Morrison asked him. She was a tall, white woman with silvery hair. She was also the Project Lead for the Glimpses Endeavor.
“Yes. Sorry. I’m–a bit overwhelmed, that’s all.” He tried to loosen up and rolled his shoulders.
“To be expected,” she nodded. “I’m going to patch you into the main feed then we’ll work on the other extension feeds, okay? Just need you to sit up straight.”
He gave her a thumbs up but stared down at himself. His face a mix of amusement and shock. He had a black, padded shirt with series of electronic sensors along his chest and down his sleeves that ended at the wrists and his mesh-gloved hands. Glowing blue light emitters were attached to his fingertips and small silver plates were sewn into the palms. A visor-like cap crowned his head. More monitor feed lines extended down the back from it and plugged into a battery backpack on his shoulders.
Laura secured sensitive headphones over his ears. She lifted the lapel of her ray lab oat and spoke into a microphone, testing the connection.
“You are nearly set to go.” Her voice piped into his ears.
“I kind of feel like I’m about to walk into space versus an old, rundown house.”
“I bet,” she chuckled. “However, all these sensors and such are going to be critical. Especially if you find damning evidence, the lawyers will need all the facts and reports they can in order to prove this science and use it to convict others like your father.”
He was three on the night of February 26th, 2020. That night seventeen drawn-out years ago she disappeared from his life forever. Leaving him seventeen years of doubt, accusations, false leads, rumor and cycles of foster home rotations.
Since then his mother’s disappearance had become fodder for every network and cable crime series.
Hardest of all for him to accept was the simple fact that Gerald “Jerry” Ross killed his mother, Marissa Ross, and somehow he hid her body and escaped prosecution. It was a pop culture fact. It was a tale of injustice. A story of tragedy everyone knew. He was haunted by her memory and fate.
So when the founders of the Glimpses Endeavor came to him and spelled out what they could do and what they wanted to accomplish, he clutched at it. A last desperate attempt to learn the truth and put her soul to rest.
Jerry Ross currently resided in Oaks General Hospital in a coma. He wasn’t expected to survive the month due to a complicated series of strokes.
Jerry maintained and insisted incessantly he was not a murderer and did not know what had happened to his wife. In the beginning, he would even say on the television interviews how much he loved and missed her. It all rang false and fell flat. Especially when all the hospital records came to light, records of her life of domestic abuse.
With a final tug on three cables by one of her tech assistants and a twist to a nob on the backpack, Laura said, “Okay champ. It’s time.”
The doctor then handed him a digital set of glasses. A pulsing hum came from the hardware on his back as the glassware lit up in front of his eyes. Information streamed along the bottom of the lenses while temperature stats and Electrical Magnetic Field voltage appeared in the corner of the left lens.
“We’re gonna lead you in, but the door has been unlocked and the house scouted. Once inside we’ll view everything you see with these glasses. The programs will feed anything picked up by the spectral or ethereal monitors as well as the ultraviolet thermals.”
He could already see her form in heat radiants of bright orange to deep red. If he blinked twice with the right eye it would switch to ethereal and once again it would switch to spectral colors. “Alright, I’m ready. Seventeen years waiting.”
Five minutes later, the tech intern, turned on the overhead light to the foyer and closed a rickety door behind him without a word.
He breathed in and out, getting his bearings and settling his nerves as best as he could. He went over the plan for the experiment one more time. First, go dark in order to allow the night vision camera feed to register and allow him to navigate in the darkness. Should any entity reside in the house, it would be easier for the system feeds to pick it out. Second, he would slowly explore the first level of the house before going upstairs to the master bedroom.
For eons it was theorized that “walls stored evil” or some places absorbed horrific events. The hope of the Glimpses Endeavor was to use a pulsing Electronic Magnetic Field generator to draw out the captured moments. The modified generator produced and distorted a constant stream of EMF waves and when they returned it would read them like a sonic call bouncing back to a bat.
Through the paranormal feeds and the silver ethereal nodes attached to his palms, it was hoped he would also be able to see and record any entities existing in the spectral fields or ethereal dimensions. The system on his back retrieved all these feeds and readings at once in order to provide a generated “glimpse” and display it in his lenses.
Of course he didn’t understand how any of it worked. He only wanted a view of history.
A glimpse of murder.
He leaned over and switched the foyer light off. In seconds, the room illuminated within his glasses. No true sources of heat were displayed as the house had been empty since Jerry’s hospital stay. Everything was outlined with an eerie blue aura.
Jackson knew the layout of the house which remained as familiar and intimate as touching the features of his own face. The pulsing hum from the backpack increased and snowy wave of green lit particles extended from him like a ripple in a pond.
He walked toward the kitchen, his father’s favorite place. When he entered a soft tone alerted him the Glimpse system picked something up. In seconds a figure stood kneeling by the kitchen stove. The figure was not entirely clear but by the size and posture he guessed it to be Jerry.
Dammit! That’s not clear enough to use in any court as evidence! Is this a waste of time after all?
After several waves of EMF, the figure grew more defined and detailed as the figure worked around the room. Jackson found he did eventually recognize his father. Clearly younger in appearance as he was in year 2020. The only time Jerry was at peace and ease with himself was when he cooked. Another tone made Jackson leap a little as another two forms came into view in the kitchen doorway. One small form broke off to go to the table and climbed onto a chair.
This is so surreal! As close to time travel we will probably ever get!
“I hope that beer can is just from flavoring the chicken, Jerry.” The voice was rich, smooth, feminine. It had been so long since he heard his mother’s voice that he wasn’t sure if he really knew it.
“Don’t start,” Jerry snapped back. Jackson immediately recognized the cigarette-strained timber of his father’s voice.
She started shouting.”I cannot–“
“Babe! I have good news!” he insisted. “My old pal Kendall is going to be released next week. He’s already got a tip on a job in Memphis. He’s promised to hook me up.”
The figures blurred and winked out.
“What? What happened there, Laura?” Jackson called out, hoping their system wasn’t glitching.
“Not all the glimpses will be complete or thorough.”
He frowned unsatisfied.
Nothing appeared or continued in the kitchen so he went back down the hall to the stairwell to the bedrooms on the second floor.
Halfway up, his mother appeared a foot before his face. “YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH! YOU PROMISED NO MORE CRIME–” Her wispy figure shot backwards onto the steps behind her. She sprawled, holding a hand to her left cheek and stared in fright at Jackson. It wasn’t him she was seeing but his father who had often “put you in your place” with his hands. Sometimes he had used belts. Jackson winced as he remembered the sting of those leather straps.
The repeated emergency room visits were often the reason that Jerry was so hated and crucified in the press. He was an ugly human being — Jackson couldn’t make him pay for her suffering but at least now he hoped the glimpse would lead him to her remains to put her at rest.
Her figure winked out once again. “Proceeding upstairs to the bedroom,” he muttered.
His stomach tightened and flipped with his anxiety. The bedroom was the murder scene. Every investigation pointed to it. There were traces of blood and a broken shard of tooth found in the initial investigation years ago. Pieces of furniture were marred with scratches and one wall was dented in. Clearly signs of some sort of physical struggle.
Jackson hesitated as he stepped into the doorway. He held his breath. It was now or never he assumed.
Pulses of EMF drew out and across the room.
Nothing.
Several minutes passed.
After all these years, you are going to go to your grave and get away with it, aren’t you, you sick fuck. Jackson gripped the sides of the doorframe, tears slipping down his cheeks. He just wanted to put her in a grave. Was this so much to ask?
“Mummy… Mummy?” A whimper and cry came from behind him.
Two alert beeps rang out in the pitch dark. His mother appeared running toward him at the door while her father’s form chased after her. He was shouting. “I’m sorry. SO SORRY, MARISSA! Please calm–“
His mother’s form bolted through Jackson. The dead cold was bitter and bit down through to the bone. Jackson spun around in time to spot a small toddler climbing the last of the steps just as his mother crashed and flipped over his little form with a shriek. His mother crumpled into an abnormal position at the base of the stairs.
Everyone popped away again, leaving him alone in the dark.
Laura gasped in his ear. Then she whispered, “Jackson….Jackson! Oh my god, you killed her! Dear lord, she died after all by accident.”
He lowered himself to the threadbare carpet and leaned against the wall in the hall.
It made sense now. His father and mother had a nasty argument and tumble in the bedroom which accounted for the crime scene evidence. Nothing about that night had ever come back to him. The psyches always said he had blocked the trauma after obviously seeing his father murder his mother. But it was her fall he blocked out. His part in her death.
And his father had known he’d face charges and prison time for the assault leading to the accident. The chain of events were enough for a good prosecutor to get manslaughter if not more. Jerry wouldn’t take the chance.
Then where? Where is her body?
He rubbed hard at his temples then wiped at the back of his neck. Goosebumps prickled his skin still as it was cold in the old house. His breath pluming out in an spooky green fog.
“Oh Jackson, does it so matter?” The voice was clear — rich and smooth. His head shot up to see Marissa standing before him. Her spectral form glowing a soft pale green.
Mom? The words failed to escape his lips.
“Don’t you see, Jackie? I’m at peace. It’s not important for me to be placed in a patch of ground to be in happiness. What I truly need is for your happiness.”
More tears escaped him and dripped to his chest. Laura’s own faint sobs were captured by the microphone.
“This was never your fault and it wasn’t what your father intended to happened either. It was a tragic accident. I want you to move on. LIVE! Stop dwelling in the past and on hate for your father. Go be happy and live for me!”
Three weeks after the Glimpse Endeavor, Jerry Ross died. In his will, he left instructions where her ashes were hidden. In the end, he remained completely selfish. There was no note of confession or even remorse, only a set of GPS coordinates.
Jerry never did right by his wife, but in the end, he wanted the same thing Jackson’s mother wanted…closure for their son.
Writing Prompt: Whatever building you enter, you can see all of the people who died there.
Provided by Written Word Media
I realize it has been awhile since you’ve read anything new from me — either in post, novella or even novel form. Then I ran across this “writing prompt” which piqued my interest.
A writing prompt to those that are unfamiliar to the phrase is a small paragraph to motivate or inspire a writer — a fill-in-the-rest-of-the-story exercise. Thought this might be a fun way to get some “new” material out while I am still writing, editing, publishing my horror and fantasy series. On a side note, Evade Part One will be out next month!!
ENJOY!!
(Writing Prompt provided by tomiadeyemi.com)
She gripped the rim of the porcelain sink and tried to steady her hands. A long serrated hunting knife rested in the grimy sink.
“One last time,” she whispered to herself.
One. Last. Time.
Evelyn Diane Joyce, or “Evie” as her friends called her, stood in the restroom, staring at her rain-drenched reflection in the mirror. She didn’t recognize herself, covered in mud, grease on her clothes and leaves in her dirty, haystack hair. Dried blood caked under one nostril and her chin was scuffed raw from an earlier fall.
They were in the Calamine Mountain Park. It was around 8 o’clock at night and a surprise rain storm chilled the fall evening air.
One. Last. Time.
He was here. Somewhere hidden among the park’s trees and brush.
Evie knew he’d make his way there. It was the only real structure in the park and on the way to the parking lot. He’d come for certain.
The fluorescent lights suddenly flickered and blinked a few times before completely turning off.
Holding her breath, Evie retrieved the knife then crept over in the blind dark to the nearest stall and went inside. She then climbed onto the toilet seat and crouched behind the door. Waiting was the worst part. All of the exertion weighed upon her and her body shook. Her muscles tightened in her chest as her heart beat furiously. Any moment now he’d walk in, but she wondered if she could actually do this. Sweat trickled down her neck and between her shoulder blades.
Moments later, her ears picked out a whisper of fabric. Then in spite of the pelting rain, she heard the subtle squeak of his sneakers. He was already inside the doorway to the restroom structure.
One. Last. Time. Was she ready?
The hum of the lights filled the restroom as its motion sensor started the lights back on. He stopped — probably looking around. Jackson Allan Joyce always played it safe. Predictable and yet prepared. Always a slave to compulsive order and rules.
Across the stalls was a line of urinals. Satisfied that he was alone, he stepped over to one directly across from Evie. She peered out at him through the stall door crack. His back was to her. He rested his head on one arm stretched along the wall as he leaned into the urinal. Exhaustion written all over his form. His cyclist spandex suit was ripped at the shoulder and down the back. His arm was covered in drying blood as fresh blood pumped out of a long gash.
It had only been two hours before when they had taken their mountain bikes together along the North Face Trail. After a couple miles up, his bike tire popped when Jackson hit a sharp, partially buried rock in their path. He tumbled and bounced down the cliff then laid unconscious on the side of a rocky trench below the sand trail. Scrub brush and desert weeds shrouded him. She rushed to climb down to him and felt for his pulse. It was there but thready. His cheek and left eye were already bruised and swollen from the initial impact.
As she scrambled back up to their packs, she heard him call out. “Evie, help me. Evie!”
He sounded weak and vulnerable. Her mind whirled with possibilities.
She went to her backpack and from a sheath stowed inside, she removed the hunting blade. “I’m coming, Jackson. Hold on!”
At the bottom again, Evie knelt at his side. He looked confused, his eyes searched her hands spotting the blade. Before his first question, she thrust the knife aiming for his heart. His instincts were stronger and quicker than she expected. The blade pierced his arm as he raised it in defense.
Evie wasn’t done though. She pulled and twisted the knife handle, frantic to free it. When it gave up and popped free of his forearm, she was flung backwards into a small pile of boulders. Jackson wasn’t done either. He bolted up onto his knees then leaped onto her. They tumbled further down the incline of the trench as they wrestled for the knife.
She won the contest when she caught him with a surprise knee to the groin.
Evie ran. She ran not for her life but ran for another chance, another opportunity to escape the cushioned cage that was her doldrum life. She would kill him.
She would be free and have a new life. One. Last. Time.
All night, stalking and attacking him, she tried several times to ambush the son-of-a-bitch. Now they were near the parking lot. At the edge of the park.
He was exhausted. She was exhausted. They were both determined to live. Relentless in their endeavors.
Her legs were coiled beneath her, her muscles were taught, her breath captured in her burning legs. The knife was slick in her hand.
With a predatory smile and flash of gnashing teeth, she exploded from the stall…
S. W. Salzman brings my epic grim detective story to life!
ELUDE –
Stepping blindly into a horrific murder scene, a young ex-con, Vicente Vargas, must flee from the police while eluding the real killer who continues to pin more bodies on him in this intricate cat-and-mouse game. Cut off from all friends and family, tried and convicted by the press, Vic must survive on his wits and cunning on the gritty streets of Phoenix, Arizona long enough to clear his name.
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With the New Year almost upon us, I have been working out my upcoming goals and what I’d like to see as far as successful production for 2020.
With a lot of excitement, I am hoping to publish my new suspense/supernatural horror series, Evade! And with a lot of joy and sadness, I will be wrapping up my epic fantasy collection, the Wyvernsield Series. While this may be a “goodbye” to current beloved characters, I am already toying with a story idea with new characters beginning this time in Aberrisc!
As you know if you have been reading any of my goal planning posts, I like the bi-monthly process breakdown. This method has proven to generate the most goal success for me. I’ll be continuing the process, but this time with a larger “arching” picture in mind. I’ll be planning the entire year, broken down in two-month objectives by Work In Progress.
Overall Goal Summary: This year’s production goal is to publish four books — Evade Parts #1,2 & 3 and the last book in the Wyvernshield Fantasy Series.
January – February
March – April
May – June
March – August
April – May
Writing goal
Marketing goals
So this is the 2020 Plan but as they are “goals”, these are subject to change, subject to incompletion, and subject to postponement! LOL
While 2019 was a tough and emotional year for me and my family, it turned out overall a very important and rewarding year. In the end, I learned you just have to have faith all will work out and have faith in yourself that you have the strength to see it through!
I wish all of you a successful and happy new year as well!
The new sword & sorcery fantasy series called The Witcher has come out on Netflix this week. Originally the main character, The Witcher was introduced in a book by Andrzej Sapkowski called The Last Wish. It grew even more attention when it was adapted for a video game series under the same name in 2007.
The Netflix series follows the main character Geralt of Rivia, The Witcher, played by Henry Cavill as well as a young princess called Ciri (actress Freya Allan).
In a dramatic opening, The Witcher bursts out of the water entwined with a massive, mythic spider-like creature called the Kikimora. Thus, you see the heart of the show. Geralt is a hated and yet sought after warrior who hunts and destroys monsters for coin. His “kind” is said to be mutated humans, but the show has not elaborated as of yet what’s truly different. He does use elixirs and other sources of magic to boost his natural abilities. I found the first episode a bit heavy-handed with exposition, but you definitely see a good story brewing. A young princess has been tasked to find Geralt and “her destiny” in order to save the world.
Then the second episode, titled Four Marks, came on and brought a much better and intriguing storytelling element. The episode introduces a new character, Yennefer, a hunchback girl (played by Anya Chaolotra) who accidentally discovers she has untapped magical abilities. Her father is so disgusted by her, he actually sells her into servitude for four marks (coins) during the same trade exchange he sells a pig for ten marks. Her plight and struggle pull you in immediately.
The third episode of the show is centered around a creature, a Striga (an unborn fetus cursed to become a monster inside the womb which later tears itself free) who has been hunting and slaughtering residents from a small town and its workforce of miners. By the way, I will say not only has the story improved and its character development, but the show’s special effects are pretty spot on.
I cannot give you my opinion if it follows the story canon from the books and/or the video games, but I will say it is worthy of a viewing if you like either Game of Thrones or Lord of the Rings. It is in its infancy as a show so it does wobble now and then, but Game of Thrones had eight seasons to really define itself and make noteworthy characters so watch with a little patience.
The first season of the show has been completely released on the streaming service. I am already hoping for a second season!
By Derek Barton — Author of the Dark Fantasy novels: Consequences Within Chaos and The Bleeding Crown. Also the author of In Four Days: a Horror-Suspense Novella, the series Elude: Part One, Part Two & Part Three (horror/crime thrillers) and The Hidden (Classic Horror)!!
I know…I know… I released these chapters out of order, but I have my reasons madness. Either way, I hope you enjoy this and I’d love to hear what you think of it so far!!
Enjoy!
CHAPTER ONE
I sat in disbelief, dumbfounded by the vapid car sounds…Click, click, click.
I just cannot win. “Of all days, do NOT do this!”
My shrill voice carried and echoed in the empty police garage parking lot. The tone of desperation in it pissed me off even more. I was in my apple-red Chevy Impala, in its assigned lot 2B-18, sitting several moments now in an apparently stalled vehicle.
Suddenly inside my head, a woman’s happy laughter followed up by her voice floated up from the depths of my buried memories. It’s fine, Lindsey. I’m just going down to Harvey’s for a burger then off to bed. Take the night and I will see you tomorrow. We’ll catch up then.
I could still hear the audible click as she hung up the phone.
It was Tawnie’s cheery voice.
I was the one to find her the next morning behind the dorm. The image of her bloody corpse flashing before my eyes. She was on a grassy hill, splayed out on display atop of her soiled nurse’s uniform, hacked apart by an ax. Other witnesses had found me later passed out at the base of the hill.
Stop! I have no time for this. I shook my head, frantically banishing the thoughts back to their subterranean vault. Stop, just stop…
Taking a deep breath, I held it and mentally recited a prayer before turning the ignition once again. Click, click, click cliiii….
I exhaled then punched the steering wheel hard with my fist. “You son-of-a-bitch! I’ve gotta go!”
“Detective Korrey…I think it’s dead,” a gravelly voice spoke out, right behind my left shoulder.
I jumped and let out a surprised yelp, twisting violently to see who it was. A patrolman with a thick head of red hair and a bushy goatee had been leaning down into the driver’s side window. He straightened immediately backpedaling with his hands raised to calm me. “Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s…it’s okay,” I stammered. “You just caught me off guard.”
Carefully, I removed my hand from the grip of the pistol at my belt. Behind him and to left was another patrol officer waiting, slightly shorter and thinner, with short-cropped brown hair and a patchy brown beard. He caught my eye and gave a quick nod.
My cheeks grew hot. I was embarrassed by my startled reaction.
“We are just coming on duty. Did you need us to jump your car for you?” The first officer offered. His badge plate said O’DELL.
Sighing loudly again in frustration, I paused to collect myself, pulled my hair back behind one ear, then said, “Normally, I’d take you up on your offer, but I’m already running late. I’m supervising a prisoner extradition pick up this afternoon. It’s not something that can wait. I hate to ask this—”
He cut me off. “But you’re gonna need us to drive you there. The Phil?”
“Yeah, I’m due at the airport by 11:30.”
The other, younger officer looked at his watch, his face tight with obvious irritation. “It’s going to be close with downtown traffic at this hour.”
“We’ll make it happen, detective.” O’Dell extended his hand to me through the open window. “Officer Shawn O’Dell. That’s Officer Josh Brandon.”
I shook his hand and smiled up at him. “Detective Lindsey Korrey of Homicide Division.” I didn’t know these officers, but I was relieved they respected my position enough and were willing to help me. Pulling any type of rank was always emotionally hard for me to go through with. Often as a woman in charge, I’m usually challenged or hard-pressed in situations when I had to give orders or take lead.
I opened the door, grabbed my purse and locked the car. “Where are you guys parked?”
Officer Brandon pointed to a patrol cruiser in the opposite corner of my vehicle. X1718 painted on the door and hood. “You’ll have to ride in the back, unfortunately.”
****
“Dispatch to X1718. Do you read?”
Officer Brandon leaned down and swept up the receiver. “X1718, copy.”
Officer O’Dell, the older officer, the obvious veteran, was driving as protocol. During the first couple of years, rookie patrol officers rode with seasoned, trained patrol officers until they proved themselves. He spoke out loud to me. “I’m going to take the 611. If we’re lucky we can take it then head down to the I-75 to 291 which will loop back to the east side of the airport.”
He was making an effort. I liked that. I didn’t get the same sense of commitment from Officer Brandon.
The radio crackled with life and a Dispatch Officer, Sheila Carter, cut in, “X1718, head over to Brandywine St & North 21st Street. A male child has been found abandoned.”
“X1718, copy.”
“Speak with a Fen and Chun Zhao. They’re the owners of The Golden Hour Dragon Restaurant and found the boy in their parking lot.”
Josh glanced at his partner, who nodded his approval back at him. “Copy. Show X1718 en route, Dispatch,” Josh responded.
“Uh, guys…” I spoke up. “Remember, I cannot be late.”
“Detective Korrey, I understand your concern. I do. However…” O’Dell shrugged. “It’s an abandoned kid. We don’t have a good reason to give if we don’t get him first and something happens to him while we are at the airport with you.”
The weight of his argument settled on me. My shoulders sagged. I had no answer to it.
“Look, it’s a simple stop and pickup. Then we’ll take you to the airport before heading back to Headquarters with the kid.”
In the rearview mirror, I caught a glimpse of myself. My lips were squeezed into a line and worry lines creased my forehead. I couldn’t find any sound excuse to override the officer’s points.
His voice dropped down low and conspiratorially, “This isn’t a normal prisoner transport, is it? This is about the ‘Nurse Catcher’, am I right?”
Josh’s jaw dropped and he snapped his head back to openly stared at me.
Shit! Here it comes.
I reluctantly nodded. “Yes. A week ago, Lawson Torv was captured in San Diego, and we’re flying him in to face charges for the three murders here. It’s been hush-hush to keep the press away. He’s used chaos and crowds to escape before so we’re not taking any chances this time.” I tried to ignore Officer Brandon’s scrutiny, but I was embarrassed again.
“You’re that detective?” he muttered.
“Josh!” O’Dell admonished him.
The young officer abruptly turned to face ahead.
“I know how important this is for you. And I told you I’m going to get you there, okay?” Shawn continued, trying to reassure me. “We get in, get out, nothing much to it.”
I took a quick glance at my cell phone. It read 8:37 AM.
Twenty-three minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot of The Golden Hour Dragon. Immediately, we spotted an older Chinese man sitting next to a white, brown-haired boy with a bowl-haircut, skinny build, and scabby knees. He had on a pair of sunglasses, a fur-lined yellow winter jacket, and dark blue jean shorts. The boy didn’t appear to be in any distress or worries.
The two patrolmen got out first then Officer O’Dell opened the back door to release me. I stayed behind and leaned up against the cruiser, crossing my arms and watching.
Officer Brandon strode over and squatted down in front of the boy. “Hi there, champ,” I detected an obvious change in his demeanor. He was good with kids.
“He hasn’t said a word,” the older Chinese man stated. “My name is Chun Zhao.” He nodded to Officer Brandon then to Officer O’Dell and me.
“Do you know where he came from or which direction?” Shawn asked.
Anxiety was building up inside me. My instincts told me there was something wrong with the whole scene. I couldn’t put a finger on the why of it, but the feel of the situation set my teeth on edge.
“No. Actually, it was my wife, Fen, who found him standing on the corner.” He pointed at the intersection of Brandywine and North 21st. “He was standing there, dressed like this, staring up at the streetlight. I was afraid he was going to cross it alone.”
Shawn inquired, “You’ve never seen him before then, Mr. Zhao?”
He shook his head no.
Josh followed up with, “And there was no one else with him or walking around? Do you think someone left him here?”
“I didn’t see anyone and, no, I don’t think Fen did either.”
Leaning in closer, he examined the kid with his eyes but didn’t see any apparent bruises or cuts. Smiling at the boy, he straightened then unpinned his silver badge. As he held it out before the boy’s face, he said, “Do you know what this is?”
He waited for a response. The child studied his hand then looked up into Josh’s face. He made no attempt to smile or respond, only continued to stare.
“It means I’m a police officer. Do you know what a police officer does?”
Shawn said when the boy didn’t answer. “It means, as an officer I protect you. You can trust us. We won’t hurt you.”
The boy slowly turned his head away and faced the cruiser.
Shawn mistook the boy’s message. “She’s also an officer. We’re here to help you. You’re not in any trouble. We just want to make sure you get home okay. Your mommy and daddy have to be very worried about you.”
The boy didn’t shift his eyes and kept watching me stand next to the patrol car. An awkward smile of my own formed on my lips.
Shawn and Josh glanced at each other and an unspoken agreement was made.
Officer O’Dell said, “Okay, Mr. Zhao, are you and your wife able to come down to the station later this afternoon and give a statement?”
“Certainly. Is he going to be alright?”
The two officers nodded together. “We’ll take him downtown until we get things straightened and reunite him with his family. Thank you for calling us,” Shawn remarked.
I continued my attempt at a smile, certain my anxiety, and frustration with my lack of time were showing on my face. Josh led the boy by the hand to the cruiser.
I loved children but had limited experience with them. I opened the car door for him to join me in the backseat bench. “Hi there. I’m Lindsey and this is Shawn and Josh. Are you hungry?”
The boy crawled into the back without acknowledging my words. I shrugged at Officer O’Dell and got in.
Normally children seemed to take to me. I always thought I’d be a good mother. Someday. Maybe now that Torv is caught…
You’d be a lousy mom, Lindsey! Jessie had screamed at me one night, one of our last arguments in fact before the divorce. You’re never ever home! And by the way, you can’t have kids if you don’t have sex!
Asshole.
He was right in some regards, but it didn’t take the sting out of his words either. Jessie wanted children and, of course, so did I, but the Nurse Catcher case was too involved, too engrossing for me to consider any other endeavors at the time.
I owed it to Tawnie.
“Alright, champ. We’ve got to take a brief ride to the airport then we’ll see to getting you home to your family. Okay?” Josh said.
Several beads of sweat popped up along the boy’s brow. It was then I realized he was dressed in a winter jacket and had a striped sweater underneath it.
“You must be pretty warm in that. Can I take off your jacket for you?” I asked, but he didn’t offer any reaction. He kept face forward and silent.
Who the hell dressed their kid like this in July? I reached over and tugged down one side and the right sleeve. He didn’t try to stop me.
I found a pair of vertical scratches on the inside of his wrist and a pair of scabbed-over gouges at the base of his neck near his sweater’s collar. Dirt and black, chalky smudges were around his ear as well.
“Did you get hurt, sweetie? How did you get these…wounds?” I didn’t want to say it and upset the boy, but I immediately recognized the wounds as animal bite marks.
From upfront, Shawn uttered a couple of choice curses. “Get out of the way!”
I looked up from the boy and noticed a man, filthy and wearing a ratty t-shirt and a gray hooded jacket. It said ironically SECURITY across the front. Most of the man’s hair on top had fallen out or turned a splotchy white and gray. He stood transfixed and staring intently on the boy. Shawn honked the car’s horn and gestured for the man to move. The homeless man ignored the directions and remained transfixed.
Brandon rolled down his passenger window. “Look! If you don’t move, I’m going to get out and move you myself!”
The rookie’s face reddened as the transient disregarded his threat. “FINE!” he roared then swept up his soda can and hurled it at the bum. It caught him perfectly in the face and splashed leftover soda as it bounced up his forehead and flew behind him.
“OFFICER BRANDON! That was not necessary.” Shawn scolded.
A splash of soda dripped down the man’s leathery cheeks, but his eyes were no longer fixed on the boy. Josh had gotten his attention after all. His gaze was filled with an angry intelligence and malice, but there was something else. It struck me as the look from a man in the throes of insanity — a frantic uneasy restlessness running in tight circles in the dark. I shuddered as the back of my neck grew cold and clammy.
“Move along,” Shawn insisted to the homeless man with force in his statement.
The man shrugged and wiped the brown liquid off his thick chin. He turned and walked back to the sidewalk. As the cruiser went past him, the man pointed with a gnarled, ash-covered index finger at the boy in the seat and mouthed, “I seek you.” There was no longer an expression or emotion on his scrub-covered face.
“Freak!” I called out from the backseat as we pulled away.
An arm curled around mine and a tiny hand gripped my own. I looked over and found the boy had pressed up to my side in obvious fright.
GREAT NEWS! I found a replacement for the postponed Bookmans Exchange Book Signing.
Please visit me in January at:
At the event, there will be Cosplay, Classic Cars, VIP Community Heroes, Merchants/Vendors, and Recognized Police and Firefighters First Responders.
For more information and details: https://www.superherosaturday.org/
This promises to be a great family fun day as it was last year!!
The Official Website of Author Derek Barton 