Angels of Vengeance: The Furies, Book 1 Page 4

  Brianna stopped and turned. Her head cocked, and she called out "Lieutenant Dan?" in a perfect "Forest Gump" voice.

  "What are you doing over here?" he asked his niece. Then added, "Shouldn't you be studying?"

  "Don't you have reports to fill out?" She sauntered to the waiting car, and peeked inside. "It's Friday, I have a social life, unlike you, my dear, sweet, OLD uncle."

  "Are your friends over 21?"

  Brianna looked back over her shoulder at her friends, then turned back with a grin. "We're not drinking."

  "Keep it that way. And don't stay out too late. Let your mother know where you are, ok?"

  Brianna straightened up and fired off a snappy salute. "Yes, sir, Lieutenant Dan, sir!" She walked unhurriedly back to her friends, and all three began to giggle.

  Dan slid the window up and continued down the street. Two houses down he saw that there was a small party in progress. He made a note of the address. Might have to write a report if it gets out of hand.

  He pulled into a driveway of a small Craftsman-style house in another block. A neat and tidy house. The front porch and steps were flanked by jacaranda trees, and shrubbery lined the rest of the porch to either side.

  He opened the cruiser door, gathered several file folders and a plastic bag of Chinese take-away. He kicked the car's door shut and went up a short flight of steps to the front porch, then struggled to get the door unlocked, balancing folders and plastic bag.

  The door opened into a living room that was a far contrast to the exterior of the house. Outside, a model home, neat and trim. Inside: full on bachelor pad.

  Scattered files were inhabiting the couch. Bags from various takeout food places were piled by a sagging recliner that faced a wide screen television. The couch needed reupholstering, the recliner needed to be dragged to the curb and left for dead.

  Not dirty, just highly cluttered.

  Dude, a large orange tomcat, lifted his head when he heard Dan close the front door.

  "Don't bother to get up or anything..." Dan mumbled as he crossed into the small dining room, past an older wooden dinette set and into a small kitchen. Retro appliances lined one wall, white gas stove, matching classic refrigerator, and a small mica-lined table was shoved against a wall.

  The table had just enough space left for the folders in his hand. He stacked the files, grabbed a plate and fork from a wooden dish drainer. Balancing the plate and carrying the takeout bag, he headed into the dining room. Dude was waiting on the table, the white tip of his tail flicking with impatience.

  Dan balanced the plastic bag on another stack of folders and lifted out two foam takeout containers. He forked a helping of brown noodles on one plate, sat it next to Dude, and scooped out a pile of beef with broccoli for himself.

  Dude began eating, purring loud enough to be heard from outside the house. Dan shoveled a fork load of beef into his mouth. He watched the cat eat. Sensing that, the cat stopped and stared back.

  "Have a good day? You do know that mouse is still in the hall closet? You have to do your part." No reaction from the cat, except to look at the plate of beef and broccoli. "Hey, don't even think it. You ordered the lo mein, buddy. You eat the stuff. Okay?"

  The bright orange eyes simply stared, and then Dude went back to eating the noodles.

  Dan scooped his leftover food back into the foam container and sighed. "Well, Dude, the news is on. So now, everyone will know. Must be nice not to have to worry eh?"

  ***

  Back at the lit-up house, the party was in full swing. Kids mixed on the lawn and in the backyard. The liquor and beer were flowing in quantities usually recorded at sporting events. The party hadn't yet reached critical mass; that point in a party where the keg has emptied and the stereo gets cranked to "eleven", then the cops show up to arrest everyone.

  A tall man moved through the throng of kids gathered on the lawn, most of them drinking from red plastic cups. His mind occupied. One word kept pushing him forward. NEED.

  The NEED gathered the darkness within and propelled him to the front door. He paused to observe the crowd. A lot of suitable girls. Yes. One stood out from the rest. Perfect. Oh, she'd be perfect. Yes, she's perfect. Short skirt, beautiful legs, little make-up, might even be snooty, a cover-up for her innocence. Yes, he loved those types.

  Brianna and her friends leaned against a wall across from the front door and surveyed the crowd. Brianna was sipping beer out of a red cup, reading her social media pages on her cell. Her friends were occupied eyeing the crowd.

  The living room was filling up quickly, all sitting surfaces were taken, jokes were being told, badly, and the stereo was currently still functional and at 70% volume. By the end of the evening, the stereo will be off and someone will have broken out a guitar.

  Adrienne and Kaitlin were busy checking out their competition; the other sorority girls. Various types flitted around, in groups of three to four, moving like migrating birds. First one would venture away, then back she'd fly, simply to venture away again, this time with a friend. Then both would return, until eventually the entire group headed out to the backyard.

  Across the large room, the tall man was scoping out the crowd, his eyes halted on Adrienne. At the same time, Adrienne spotted the tall stranger. Dark suit jacket, jeans, dress shirt. Blondish hair long on top, a curl dropped over his left eyebrow.

  All she saw were his bright green eyes.

  "Oh, dear god, those eyes," she breathed hard.

  "Too old, yuk!" Brianna whispered, going back to her cell phone. She was live commenting on the party for her sorority's website. So far, barely 2 out of 5 stars.

  "Maybe for you. He's in luck. My counselor told me this morning I had daddy issues," Adrienne whispered as she touched her hair and smoothed it back into place.

  The tall stranger smiled. He began to make his way towards the trio.

  "Shit, he's coming over. He's checking you out, Bree," Kaitlin whispered.

  The man hesitated by a couch several feet away. Adrienne finished her beer without breaking eye contact. "Ten bucks says he's driving me home."

  "Ten bucks says I don't think so," Kaitlin reached out and grabbed Adrienne's arm. "Bathroom."

  The two girls slipped away as Brianna began to melt under the intense gaze of the stranger.

  The tall man inserted himself next to Brianna. "Hi. I'm Kyle, who are you?"

  "Bree. Brianna"

  "Looks like your friends have abandoned you, doesn't it?" He smoothly wrapped an arm around Brianna's shoulders. He checked the cup in her hand.

  "Yeah, I guess," Brianna replied.

  "What's this?" he asked. Then he took the cup and smelled it.

  "You're not the beer type, young lady." He led her towards the kitchen. "What do you say we check out the cabinets here? They might actually have real adult beverages."

  She let him guide her into the small kitchen. He started opening cabinets at random. He opened a door to a pantry and let out a gasp of astonishment. He reached in and withdrew a bottle of single barrel whiskey.

  "This, right here, is the nectar of the gods." Kyle smiled while he poured a small amount into a cup, then handed it to Brianna. She sampled it.

  "Tastes a bit funny, but sweet." Brianna licked her lips and took another sip. "Mmm. Nice!"

  "You know, you're just my type." Kyle smiled as he watched her drink from the plastic cup.

  ***

  Dan was practically dosing off while watching the TV. A rocks-glass with an inch of diluted scotch was busy leaving a water mark on a file folder. The news was on. Two bubbly anchors were busy reading the days' news in easy to digest 30-second sound bites.

  Dan focused as the blonde stopped and looked into the camera with a serious, yet optimistic, expression. A graphic of a grocery store appeared tastefully over her left shoulder.

  "Watch carefully Dude. They go to school to learn this."

  He raised the volume as the woman was chattering away. "In other news, a hero cop in San M
arino is credited with saving the life of an 18-month-old boy this afternoon when..."

  "Yep, now everyone knows," Dan said as he turned off the broadcast. He swirled the glass a bit and drained the contents. "Time for this so-called hero to get some sleep."

  ***

  Adrienne and Kaitlin paused by the door to the kitchen. Both girls watched the stranger guide Brianna towards the front door.

  "Dammit, he was mine," Adrienne whispered with narrow eyes.

  "I just hope she doesn't puke on this one," Kaitlin sipped a beer. "Wow, he works fast. Check it out, they're leaving already. Come on."

  Kaitlin and Adrienne watched out the front window as Brianna stumbled down the stairs to the sidewalk, the tall man guiding her by the shoulders. Mid-way down the sidewalk, she suddenly bent over and darted to the grass, dropping to her knees.

  She was dizzy. The world twisted and swam in circles. Beads of sweat broke out on her brow. She began to retch as Kyle steadied her. He stole a fast look over his shoulder, then tried to step into shadow.

  Framed by the window, Adrienne and Kaitlin watched. Kaitlin raised her cell phone and began snapping images. "Yep, she's sick, again."

  Kyle helped Briana to her feet. She was wobbly, her legs kept trying to collapse under her. He had to get her to his car fast, before the drug went into full effect and she'd pass out completely. He gently guided her across the street. All the while, he was looking at her long legs, how well toned they were, her shapely calves. He was eager to get his one into his special room.

  ***

  Dan hit his bed and tried to read through some file folders. The incident at the store made his stomach knot up. It brought back memories – bad ones – of when he was a cop in Dallas many years ago.

  Dallas, Texas

  A black and white patrol car careened through the traffic, lights flashing and siren wailing. Inside, Dan was driving, cutting the wheel back and forth as he navigated through the traffic snarling Westmoreland Road at two in the afternoon. Other drivers were panicking at the sight of a cop car flying up behind them, brake lights going on, and Dan was swinging the car between lanes like it was a slalom.

  The call had come through just minutes earlier; a 41-40, kidnapping in progress.

  As Dan raced down the 4-lane road, more details came over the air: A grandmother calling to say her granddaughter was taken by a stranger off the street. This would make the third one in two weeks.

  Dan floored it for an address on Grafton, just off Westmoreland.

  Westmoreland was a street lined with modest homes, most with cheap clapboard construction, although some had brick facades. All the houses blurred past as he raced down divided four-lane road, slowing only to take a right onto Grafton. He checked block numbers out of the side of his eyes. A few more blocks.

  He instantly saw he was the first on the scene. A distraught older woman was in the yard, children were milling around. All were looking terrified. A fan of water shot into the air as an oscillating sprinkler was still running. Some children were still playing in the water.

  He cut the siren and slowed to a stop near the crowd. Backup was only a few minutes behind, so he went straight to the older heavyset woman, dressed in a faded shift and wearing slippers. Her eyes were red, puffy, and her lips were trembling.

  "It's my grandchild, officer," she stopped to wipe at her face with a bright yellow bandana. Her rheumy brown eyes looked all around then settled back on Dan's face. The cicadas were serenading loudly, and Dan had to get closer to hear her soft voice.

  "Boy or girl?" Dan asked, his notepad out. "A full description of what they are wearing, and height, everything."

  "Jackie Bonner, a girl, six years old. Only six. Not too tall, maybe up to here?" She paced her hand about mid-thigh, and continued, "Hair in pigtails, red ribbons, and she was in a small jumper, blue, with a white t-shirt. They were outside playing, all of them, like they usually do this time of afternoon, the pool so far away. I usually have a wading pool set up, but it got popped last week. So, they were just playing in the sprinkler, whooping it up and all. Well, I had gone inside just for a second, the phone was ringing and it was my youngest's husband, Kelly, a nice son-in-law if there ever was one, real caring, so he was calling to tell me Thelma would be around about 5 or so, if she got off on time, which was unusual, as she works the Kroger just up the road there? So, I was inside just for a minute when I heard the kids yelling about a man in a car. Wait," she turned to a small child, about seven, standing behind her, holding onto the shift. "Mikayla, you saw it, what happened?"

  Dan turned his attention onto the small child and smiled. "Is that your name, Mikayla? That's a pretty name. Can you tell me what happened?"

  The child pushed further back, her eyes not leaving Dan. He crouched to bring himself eyelevel with the little girl. He took his sunglasses off and hooked them in the neck of his uniform. He tried to smile, trying to be as disarming as possible, but many children of color were fearful of the police, especially in southern towns like Dallas.

  Behind him, two more patrol cars had rolled up. Their lights continued to flash. The street was filling up fast. The street was getting crowded with neighbors out rubber-necking.

  Dan raised up and looked at the grandmother.

  "Ma'am, the more we know, the quicker we can get to finding your granddaughter," he explained.

  Officer Tanya Henderson arrived and stood next to Dan, her attention on the grandmother. Tanya was a small framed woman, mid-30s, hair cut short and pulled back. Her uniform neatly pressed, a self-assured woman.

  "All Mikayla said was a big car was parked over there, by the blue house. A man was sitting there, windows rolled down. In the sun, it's too hot to be doing that around here. Too hot for much anything. Anyway, she said the man waved at the kids, and held up a bag of candy."

  Tanya and Dan exchanged looks. Dan turned back to grandmother. "Did you happen to see the car?"

  "Yes, I did, because it didn't belong here. It was too new. A foreign car, I think, but it was a big one, fancy, white with a tan roof," she said, looking at where the car had been parked.

  "About how long ago was this?"

  "No more than 5 minutes ago. You showed up fast," grandmother said.

  "He wanted to give us all candy, he said," Mikayla finally started talking. "So Jazzy? She just ran on over there, like it was nothing. Then all of a sudden, he grabs her and drove away, his wheels were screeching."

  Dan shouted to the other policeman, a stocky man with a wrinkled uniform. Sam Gunderson, a good-old-boy cop. He hadn't bothered to move from his cruiser.

  "Gunderson, you get all that? Call it in, ok?" Dan yelled at Gunderson, who just nodded and grinned, displaying a row of yellowing teeth. "Asshole," Dan whispered to himself.

  Dan left Tanya to talk with the grandmother. He stalked to where Gunderson still stood. "Here's the description of the kid," he said, showing him the notes. "The suspect is still in the area. Call it in quick, will you? We may have a shot at catching this guy"

  "Description matches the kidnapping two weeks ago and the one a few days ago, up near Fair Park. Remember?" Gunderson asked. "Another darkie."

  "Yeah, I remember." Dan turned to look back as Tanya was still talking to the grandmother. "Not enough units in this area to totally lock it down."

  "Hell, it's only the darkies, so no big deal. We'll get after him if he grabs a white girl," Gunderson added, shaking his head.

  "Gunderson, if I ever hear you say the word 'darkie' again, I swear I'll drop you where you stand." Dan growled, and turned away, fists clenched at his side.

  "Goddamned college boy, hippy tree hugger," Gunderson shook his head, grinning. He spit a stream of spittle as Dan left. "Yeah, walk away boy, can't take on a real man."

  Dan stopped by his cruiser and grabbed the mic. He called in the report. The faster this got on the air, the faster they might be able to find the child. He wrapped up the call, and went to join Tanya, who was still working to extract more d
etails from the little girl.

  At that moment, an unmarked car pulled up, followed by two news vans. Cameramen piled out of the vans and began setting up.

  Sargent Detective Cuero climbed out of his car and joined Dan, Tanya, and the kids. Dan brought Cuero up to speed and then lowered his voice. "You may want to ask Officer Gunderson to go back to his patrol sector. He's why these kids hate us, Jim," Dan whispered.

  Jimenez "Jim" Cuero was a ten-year veteran with the Dallas force, his stocky body supported a bald head, his face had thick jowls, his skin a light brown. Desk duty had caused a slight paunch to develop, no matter how hard he exercised. He had a habit of chewing Red Man tobacco. He stopped and pulled a flattened pouch from a back pocket. He dug some tobacco out, rolled a wad and jammed it into his jaw. He began chewing, a habit he used to slow down his thought processes. He narrowed his eyes and shot a look back to Gunderson.

  "That redneck has a walking hard-on for our citizens of color. One of these days, I'm liable to break his head open when he's out drunk and terrorizing the good citizens of our fair city." He punctuated his comment with a stream of tobacco juice in Gunderson's direction. Gunderson was still smiling like a drunken sow after his "takedown" of Dan. "Gunderson! You're not needed here right now; don't you have a patrol sector to stay in?"

  Gunderson kept smiling, then climbed into his car, the car dropping low on its shocks due to his bulk. He gunned the car and left in a hurry. He hit Westmoreland and headed south, ignoring all traffic in both directions. He was a cop, they had to watch for him, not the other way around.

  "Insubordinate son-of-a-bitch bastard." Cuero commented as he turned to look at the scene unfolding.

  The television crews were almost ready to start and a reporter was starting to talk to a child when Dan went over and interrupted the interview.

  "Sorry, this is an active interrogation. Someone will have a statement after we wrap up," Dan said softly.

  The reporter, a young man groomed for his TV looks, not his intelligence, stopped and frowned. "It's a free press, or hadn't you heard?"

  "I'll arrest you if you start talking to anyone before we're finished investigating." Dan waved Tanya over. "This is officer Henderson, I'm sure she'll be happy to have a few words for you until we wrap up what we have to do right now."