
That Summer in Silver Lake

Silver Lake Cozy Mysteries, Volume 3

Sophia Watson

Published by Cozy Mystery Publishing, 2017.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

THAT SUMMER IN SILVER LAKE

**First edition. October 24, 2017.**

Copyright (C) 2017 Sophia Watson.

ISBN: 978-1386039112

Written by Sophia Watson.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Also by Sophia Watson

Silver Lake Cozy Mysteries

It All Comes Out in the Wash

Snow Angels

That Summer in Silver Lake

Solstice

Watch for more at Sophia Watson's site.
That Summer in Silver Lake

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by Sophia Watson

Copyright (C) 2016 Sophia Watson

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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any matter whatsoever, including Internet usage, without written permission from the author, except in the form of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Any unauthorized usage of the text without express written permission of the author/publisher is a violation of the author's copyright and is illegal and punishable by law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places; and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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# Other Books by this Author

THE BONAVENTURA COZY Mysteries as Zara Brooks-Watson

Jitterbug (The Fifties) Book 1

Tie Dye (The Sixties) Book 2

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THE SILVER LAKE COZY Mysteries as Sophia Watson

It All Comes Out in The Wash (Book 1)

Snow Angels (Book 2)

That Summer in Silver Lake (Book3)

Solstice (Book 4)

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POETRY, SHORT STORIES and Children's Books as Cathy Smith

Waiting for the Sunrise - The Collected Poetry of Cathy Smith

Hidden Treasures: A Book of Short Stories

The Tree People (Children's Book, Ages 6-10)

See silverlakecozies.wixsite.com/sophia-watson for update, paperbacks & sales links.

# Table of Contents

Other Books by this Author

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

About the Author

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# Chapter One

Asia Reynolds ran her fingers through her short, curly dark hair in consternation. She had just spoken to her dad and found out that he had told his son, Asia's divorced, younger half-brother, that he could send his fifteen-year-old daughter Sylvia to stay with Asia for the summer. By way of an apology he had said to Asia, weakly, "Oh, sorry, I forgot to tell you."

Forgot to ask me too, thought Asia, disturbed.

Asia and her father, until now, had never had any serious disagreements. It was actually not that she disagreed with her father, but sometimes he got so busy with his business, he just assumed too much. She also understood that Sylvia's mother was not interested in having her daughter around when she was in a new relationship, which she was. That was a very touchy subject with Sylvia.

Asia's half-brother, Nelson, had actually made other arrangements at first. He was going to let Sylvie stay with a close friend from their hometown. Nelson was leaving to work construction in Abu Dhabi for the summer and pleaded with his father to take his daughter when their original plans had fallen through. Reynolds felt he had no choice, so he agreed to let his grand-daughter stay with him.

He was also a building contractor and had recently (and unexpectedly) gotten a large contract to erect a fifty unit apartment building locally and felt he could not care for his grand-daughter properly because this job would require long hours on the site and extensive planning time at home where he could not have loud teenagers around while he was drafting. Nelson, Sylvia and Pop lived within walking distance of each other.

Sylvie was a typical teenager and liked her music a little too loud, computer war games and tended to like laughing and inviting her friends over to the house for pizza and whatever. Not a sin, but not something Asia's dad could deal with right now. She had been at his home for about a week. He liked her company and did not mind any of her habits or friends ordinarily, but not when he had to work at home. She liked it there, too, because she could spend all the time with her high school friends that she wanted to, and Pop Reynolds was good about giving her money to go out with and letting her stay out later as long as she called him and let him know she was okay. He was also good about picking her up and driving her around, too.

He knew she drank a few beers once in a while, but nothing over the top. She also knew it was illegal, so he let her know that he would help her, but she was on her own with this and getting busted could be grim. She would laugh and agree with him. She was a sweet girl and easy to get along with. It didn't hurt that she liked to cook for Pop Reynolds and that she was a rather good cook.

Asia felt sorry for Sylvie. She went through something like that when her father had divorced her mother and re-married. She said, "Yes" that she would meet her niece at the train in St. Louis and drive her to Silver Lake this coming weekend. Sylvie liked the train and looking out the window at the passing scenery.

Damn, Asia thought, irritably, I can't just abandon this poor girl. However distant Nelson has been, Sylvie is my relative. I can't punish her for the way he behaves.

Asia went out to her barn - her refuge. She now had a new (actually not so new) pretty, brown and tan donkey, Pumpkin (recently nick-named Punkin by an insistent Frankie), and had adopted two new rescued goats, Thelma and Louise, from that same neighbor, Frankie Franklin. Punkin was in love with the two little goats. Deep love. The donkey's old companion, a red, long-haired Chihuahua named Fuzzy Bud, was not miffed in the least. Fuzzy was agreeable, it seemed, to anything Punkin liked. He just moved into his bed and stayed out from under foot and the girls (Thelma and Louise) were just as careful to step around him.

Asia felt solace in her barnyard friends. Thelma and Louise were especially comforting as they had not yet grown horns and liked to have their heads scratched and rubbed. They were babyish, small and affectionate. Fuzzy Bud, as much as she was attached to Punkin, crawled into Asia's lap often seeking a little extra lovin', although she still refused to leave Punkin's side and rode in the pony cart whenever Asia took the donkey out for exercise, which was almost every day. The cart had had wheels added.

It seemed Punkin loved her new life. She had not tried to run away even once since she had showed up at Asia's house last winter. If a donkey could crawl into your lap, Asia's Punkin would have done so. Of course, Zucchini (adopted and raised from a puppy when Asia had quit smoking and become a vegetarian - named after a favorite vegetable) got along well with all of them. Zookie was famous for her amiability.

__________

Asia awoke that Saturday morning to an early, bright sun. She felt good. Just fine, grand, in fact. A finch outside her window sang loudly. The new chartreuse leaves gave fullness to the tree underneath her bedroom window. The cherry tree below it was filled with fragrant blossoms, a promise of an abundant cherry crop and more yellow songbirds. It felt like the beginning of the movie Oklahoma when Gordon MacRae, singing in the middle of a cornfield on horseback croons, "There's a bright golden haze in the meadow...The sounds of the earth are like music..." and so on from the song: O What a Beautiful Morning.

A flurry of falling cherry blossoms blew upwards past her awakening eyes. Asia rolled over again and shut her eyes. Then she remembered that she needed to be in St. Louis by ten am to pick up Sylvie, her niece.

"Oh, god..." she groaned, not wanting anything but two more hours of sleep, which would make her late. Very late. She still couldn't move, but somehow she shuffled into her bathroom and ran the water for a shower, got out a plaid cotton short-sleeved blouse and jeans. The shower was the only thing that really woke her up. That and her Husky-German Shepard Zucchini barking at the shower water, which was one of Zookie's few bad habits. Asia's eyes were now wide open.

Her memory of Sylvie was foggy, so she got out some of the early pictures that she had taken of the girl many years ago. Asia was a professional photographer, as well as a documentary film maker and sold many of her portraits and nature photos around Silver Lake--especially to the tourists in the summer. Her portraits of Sylvia were lovely.

She framed two of the best ones to put downstairs to help welcome the girl to her home. Now she remembered her. The beautiful curly blonde hair and wiry little girl body. She had been a tomboy when she was little--always climbing trees and loving to explore the forest around Asia's house. She had been especially fond of Zucchini and usually took her along on her adventures. Asia remembered Sylvie as a sweet, pretty little girl with an easy laugh, good sense of humor and submissive nature--ready to please. She sort of looked forward to seeing her again.

Sylvie was good in school, too, close to an "A" student her entire first year of high school. She was also a popular girl and was leaving behind a boyfriend she had since grammar school. She would not be happy about that.

__________

And, indeed, she wasn't. Asia was a few minutes late. The ten o'clock train from Chicago had already disembarked. Asia had no problem finding Sylvie. She was sitting on her suitcase in the middle of the lobby smoking a cigarette. Asia was a little shocked but tried not to show it. Nelson, her brother, and Pop had not told her that her 15 year old niece was a smoker. Asia bit her lips.

Sylvie looked up at her, frowning and dropping ashes on the train station floor.

She said, with disdain, "Where were you? Didn't you know my train arrived at ten?"

Asia reached down to hug her, and the girl deflected the gesture with anger.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Sylvie," said Asia. "I was caught in traffic. It is only ten minutes after..."

Her niece answered, getting up and grabbing a suitcase, "Well then, the train must have been early. I've been here almost fifteen minutes. Where's your car?" She spoke in a demanding way.

Asia was dismayed and said, "I brought my Silverado double cab and its out in the parking lot in front of the station."

The girl answered, obviously still angry and put out, "Let's go then. I'm tired of waiting around, even though I have to ride like a hick."

Asia bit her tongue and tried to carry one of Sylvie's suitcases for her, but the girl said, in a rude tone of voice, "I can carry my own stuff. I don't need your help."

Asia reacted badly to the whole situation and said, intuitively, "I'm sorry you didn't get to stay in your neighborhood. There are a lot of nice people in Silver Lake, too. You used to like it there."

"Used to," answered Sylvie, roughly pushing Zucchini over and getting into the back of the double cab.

"You don't have to ride with the dog. You can sit up here with me."

"Like I don't know that, Aunt Asia. You dog kind of smells, too."

That did it for Asia. She could not pursue this conversation any further. She just looked at her niece and drove the rest of the way to Silver Lake in silence. Tense silence. Her niece was definitely off to a bad start. Insult or cop an attitude with Asia, that was one thing--but insulting her beloved Zucchini, that was intolerable. Zookie was her emotional mainstay and an all-round good dog. And she did not smell, not that Asia could tell at that distance anyway, but she usually could.

After an hour driving in that strained silence, she pulled the pickup behind her home. It looked like Frankie Franklin was there. Good, thought Asia, with relief. I could use some warmth around me right now.

"Oh, my gawd!" exclaimed Sylvie, irritably.

"Look at that old fool! What the hell is that thing?" She pointed at Punkin pulling up with her colorful, artistically repainted pony cart, hauling Frankie and Fuzzy Bud, followed by a pair of very playful, docile goats. "Is this Doctor Doolittle, or what?! What stupid shit!!"

Asia swallowed every ounce of ire she truly felt and said, "Those are all mine, including the cart." She could not hide her hurt about Sylvie calling her dear friend Frankie "an old fool." "The older black lady is a family friend of many years, since my childhood. Sylvie, don't you remember Frankie taking you over to her ranch to play with her rescued baby chicks when you were a young child?"

Sylvie actually acted a little ashamed of herself, looked at her feet and said, "Uh, yeah, actually I do remember, Aunt Asia. I just didn't recognize her right away. I'm upset because my dad and gramps just shunted me over here and I did not have a choice.

"No, I guess, I have to say that I am sorry. I apologize. I feel rejected. They treated me like a little child. No one wanted me. All of my friends are back in Chicago. We made plans together for this summer months ago. Now that is all ruined. It's not your fault. I felt rejected, like I had nothing to say about my own life. I really felt like they forced me to come here." Sylvie began to cry.

Asia thought sympathetically, Well, I guess she's human after all.

Sylvie hopped out of the truck as Frankie walked over. Asia got out and let Zucchini down and got one of Sylvie's suitcases. Frankie smiled at Sylvie and said, "Oh you! I remember you! You're little Sylvia Reynolds. You used to play at my house. Remember? Ah, you were pretty small back then. Sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. You a big girl now--all growed up."

Sylvie smiled in a friendly way for the first time since she had arrived, and actually hugged little Frankie, who was only about five feet tall, maybe even less. Frankie reached up and patted Sylvie on the face--she pushed herself away and looked closely at the young girl. "How old are you, honey?"

"Fifteen, Ms. Franklin."

"It's just Frankie to you, darlin'. You been cryin'?"

Sylvie looked away and nodded. "My dad and grandfather didn't want me around this summer. They're too busy."

Frankie smoothed Sylvie's curly blonde hair and said soothingly, "Well, I'm sure glad to see you. You can always talk to me. Need a job this summer?"

Sylvie looked up and grinned a little, "For farm work?"

"Like what else would an old animal rescuer like me want, anyway?"

Sylvie shuffled her feet in the driveway gravel. She said, "Sure, Frankie, I'll help." Asia was amazed and gratified that Sylvie had opened up to someone. Frankie was usually good to lean on.

"You ever make ribs or Bar-B-Que?"

"Yeah, but my dad is usually the one who cooks that. I know how, also, though."

"Oh, you do, do you? I guess I could teach you my own secret recipe. I own Franklin's Rib Shack and need a hand from time-to-time, not often - but we get busy on the weekends. Wages start at minimum wage--same as the farm work. I think you'd like it."

"That sounds real good Ms....Uh, Frankie. I need something to do here and I can use the money to save for college. Thank you." She smiled at Frankie and hugged her again.

"Well, Sylvie, I want you to know me and Asia are both happy to have you and are glad to have some young blood around. Right, Asia?"

Asia smiled at Sylvie and said, "You are always welcome here, Sylvie. I'm sure your dad and grandpa didn't mean to hurt you."

"I don't think they meant to hurt me, but they did," answered Sylvie, focusing slowly on Asia. "I like you Aunt Asia. I always have, but I feel sometimes like I was just shunted over here because my relatives didn't know where else to send me."

Sylvie followed Asia upstairs and surprised her by dumping her things in the middle of the bed in the newly re-decorated guest room and clomping right back downstairs, slamming the back door as she went outside.

Asia was so confused that she called her father, who reassured her that Sylvie was known to re-surface rather quickly from her temper tantrums and moodiness and just as quickly dive back into a bad mood.

"Hope she comes out of her mood by dinner, "said Asia, shakily. "I guess I'll start an early meal by defrosting some meatless spaghetti sauce. Sylvie can have her choice of a sub sandwich or whole wheat spaghetti."

"Bet she chooses the sandwich," said her father. "Go light on the all-vegetable meals, right now, honey. You don't want to freak her out any more than she already is."

Asia thought, Wouldn't want to do that.

"Okay, Pop," she said out loud. "She seems to like Frankie well enough. You know I'll give her a chance." After she sent me into a complete tailspin most of this morning, she thought.

She said, "I won't tell her that there is no meat in the sauce. My guests can't usually tell the difference."

"Well, it's good news that Sylvia still likes Frankie. She's a very sweet girl when she wants to be. She just really looked forward to seeing her friends this summer, especially her boyfriend."

"Yeah, daddy, I know. Puberty is hard on everyone. We have a lot of young people coming into town right now for the summer tourist season. They are mostly artisans. She'll probably meet up with someone she likes."

"I expect so. Let me know how things are going from time-to-time, okay?"

"Sure, Pop. I think things will settle down after a while. Like I said, Frankie got a smile from her this morning. That's a start. She is still a little angry, though. It might take a while to work that all out."

"Okay. Bye, honey."

"Bye for now, Pop."

Asia went downstairs and made an early dinner. Just as she had predicted, Sylvie could not tell that the meal was all vegetarian. It helped that Frankie ate with them. Sylvie went upstairs to unpack and was on Asia's computer all the rest of the evening emailing until she went to bed.

The next morning Asia woke up late, Harold Skylar (aka "Harry the Hippie") had come over and let himself in. He was playing his guitar in her dining room which he knew Asia loved.

She had a lovely, new Yamaha baby grand piano and played mostly classical music but could do just about any type of music. Harry was a local university student studying music on scholarship. He usually made his money playing street music for the many tourist crowds in the summer. Street music and begging (panhandling) was legal in Silver Lake and one could purchase a yearly license for $2 at the city hall if you had a driver's license or state ID so they could check your record.

It was like Asia's childhood friend, Sergeant Sheila Rodriguez of the Silver Lake Police Department had been known to say, "Why not enjoy the innocent side of life instead of encouraging ill will in people. I like street music. Remember, I'm Mexican - we like our music everywhere - even the trumpets. My rule is - just don't block traffic and be polite. You are free to earn all the money you can."

Harry played like an angel. He was very talented. His first CD Sylar and Sommers: Rocky Mountain Music recorded with his girlfriend Sage Sommers on vocals and keyboard, mixed and produced by her father Antonio had gone viral on the internet in MP3 form and provided Harry with enough money to buy all the food and supplies he needed to get started for the summer season.

He was living in Asia's cabin free of charge and was free to come over to Asia's and make himself something to eat, which he had done that morning. Last summer he had been so hungry, that he had done a few things that his Probation Officer, Sgt. Rodriguez needed to oversee his transition from - such as selling marijuana and getting himself in general hot water. Not this year, though.

Sylvie walked in, coming from the direction of the barn, rubbing her hands together, just as Harry tuned up and started a lovely arpeggio introduction to his well-known song, Circles which used to be Song to the Sun (which Harry wrote when he was in the Silver Lake jail last summer). Sylvie sat down quietly in the kitchen, looking into the dining room where Harry was playing and asked Asia in hushed tones who he was. She explained that he was a friend. Sylvie looked sort of shocked and Asia nodded vigorously "No" that he was not her boyfriend. She said, "There's a lot of hippies here in the summer. He is one of them, a street musician, but also a Central Illinois University (CIU) student. He lives in my cabin out back. Me and some of my friends around town sort of mentor him."

"That's a favorite song of mine," said Sylvie, impressed. "Circles is very popular right now. Everyone has a copy on their I-pod."

Asia smiled and said, "He wrote it."

"Really!" exclaimed Sylvie, doubly impressed. "But he has to play street music?" she added doubtfully.

"Well, he wants a van to play gigs from and his parents do not have much money. His partner, Sage Sommers, lives in Denver and he needs extra money to visit her. You know how it is."

"Oh," said Sylvie smiling at Harry. "It's amazing that I will get to meet him. He is famous, Auntie."

Asia smiled to herself. Who would think that Harry the Hippie could impress her niece?

"So how long have you known him?" asked Sylvie, smiling directly at Harry again and catching his eye, obviously flirting with him a little.

"About a year."

"He lives in your cabin?"

"Yeah. He's kind of popular around here. He's a really nice guy and everyone likes him."

Sylvie smiled at Harry again and got up to get a plate of his favorite oatmeal and raisin cookies as Asia put on a pot of spearmint tea. At just that moment--as Sylvie walked towards Harry who was sitting next to the dining room table--Sage Sommers walked in the back door with her keyboard slung over her shoulder, saying hello to Asia and the others. Her hair was long, braided and healthy looking. She looked radiant. Apparently, she was here for the summer music season early. She meant to surprise Harry, who indeed looked delighted and amazed.

Sage wore a lovely canvas fringed jacket filled with impressive beaded embroidery. Harry stopped playing out of surprise, getting up to embrace Sage just as Sylvie set the cookies on the table. They barely saw her and ignored the gift at first. Then, Sage laughed and grabbed a cookie, leaning over and kissing Harry. He hugged her tighter and kissed her back. Laughing together, they dug into the cookies without so much as a backward glance at the obviously hurt Sylvie who invisibly slunk back into the kitchen unnoticed.

Sage set her keyboard up. This was going to be a real down home concert right there in Asia's dining room.

You know, this is Asia's house--so, of course, Elise Jamison (formerly Elise Snuggles and local African-American cable news anchor for KANU and producer of Snuggles Honey) walks right in too, without knocking as she was wont to do. At least, she remembered to lock the front door behind her, considering what had happened to Asia last summer. If anyone else needed to walk in unannounced,

they could use the back door like Harry usually did.

The music segued to a wonderful duet with Sage and Harry singing "I Want to Spend my Lifetime Loving You" from "The Mask of Zorro" which, besides "Circles" by Harry, himself, was becoming a signature song of Skylar and Sommers. Elise was sort of awestruck with their perfect harmony. Their voices blended beautifully. The famous song began with the striking lyrics:

"Moon so bright, night so fine, keep your heart here with mine. Life's a dream we are dreaming. Race the moon, catch the wind, ride the night to the end, seize the day, stand up for the light. I want to spend my lifetime loving you, if that is all in life I ever do..."

(Music - James Horner; Lyrics - Will Jennings)

Asia offered Sylvie a tray of mugs for everyone as she put the hot pot of tea on a trivet and prepared small pitchers of delicious wildcrafted Snuggles honey and Almonte organic milk. Sylvie responded with a negative outburst, saying that, "Obviously Harry doesn't need someone like me. Ask that girl to carry those things." She pouted at Sage who was still playing and singing. Asia shook her head as Sylvie stomped away and slammed the back door, running back out to the barn, which was quickly becoming her place to be alone.

Elise asked, "What's wrong with her? Who is that?" Sage and Harry finished singing and took a cookie break. Elise and Asia joined them. Elise had filmed them with her I-Phone.

Asia looked at Elise and said, "That was Sylvie Reynolds, my niece. She has a major chip on her shoulder right now. Her dad is working construction in Abu Dhabi and my dad, her grandfather, got an big construction contract for this summer. He can't work around a lot of teenagers - so I said I would take her. She wasn't happy about leaving her neighborhood in Chicago. My dad and her father live near each other and all of her friends and boyfriend. She had plans, you know."

"Sounds like a drag. If I was young, I would have rebelled as well."

"She way thinks it is a drag."

Sage looked concerned and turned away from her keyboard when Sylvie slammed out of the kitchen, asking Asia, "What's wrong with her? Is she a relative of yours? You look a little bit alike."

"She's my niece. And she's upset because her dad is working overseas and her grandfather, my dad, can't take care of her right now. But she seems to be bonding with Frankie," answered Asia.

There was a shriek and some loud laughter from out back. Frankie's voice yelled, "You go girl! You got it now!"

Asia and her friends could hear the ringing of the pony cart bells. Elise watched with Asia out the kitchen window. Both of them began to smile as Sylvie smoothly guided Punkin (the donkey) down Asia's long driveway.

"She's pretty good at that cart," said Elise, impressed.

"She likes animals. She's better than me at that cart, actually. I'm impressed," responded Asia, with a small amount of pride in her voice.

"Guess she just needed to cool out," said Sage from the dining room.

"Probably," answered Asia. "She's just kind of touchy right now. I am just glad she likes to take care of the animals. That is very helpful. She is going to work for Frankie's farm and animal rescue."

"Dig that," said Harry.

"Yeah, dig it," commented Asia, sarcastically, wringing her hands in frustration at Sylvie's mercurial shifts in attitude. Sage and Harry played a soft instrumental in the silence that followed, determined to get a little practice in and soothe their friends. Elise put her arm around Asia's shoulders and said, "Don't worry about Sylvie. Kids come around when the time is right for them. I was a very angry teenager, too. I found my way, eventually. You can't say I am unsuccessful."

"Eventually?..."

"It takes a while, Asia. It is a human maturation process. You can also say it is part of a normal growth thing."

"I just don't want her to do anything crazy. She makes me worry."

"Honey," said Elise, squeezing Asia a little tighter. "Sometimes people have to find out what normal is for themselves by going a little crazy at first."

"I'm already tired of this experiment. I don't need anything crazy around. I don't need anything crazy anywhere near me. I think you can understand that, given my trials of last summer."

What Elise was saying would prove to be predictive of the things to come. Asia's wishes for normalcy and peace would have to be built little by little and earned by everyone involved with Sylvie by cultivating her trust and their wisdom.

__________

Sylvia Reynolds was still gone, riding somewhere in the pony cart way after sundown. Frankie Franklin left Asia's before Sylvie was due to return. Frankie was helping Asia take care of her expanded livestock from time to time. She now occasionally cared for Punkin (the donkey), two young rescued goats (Thelma and Louise), and Asia's two dogs Fuzzy Bud (a Chihuahua and Punkin's companion dog), and, of course, Zucchini, Asia's beloved Husky/German Shepard mix.

She fed, cleaned up after, and groomed all of them, supervising their social interactions. She also had to take care of her own rescued menagerie. Asia assumed Sylvie was over at Frankie's house working. But Frankie called when she got back to her own place and told her that Sylvie had only worked half a day and taken most of the day off, spending it near the carnival rides, meeting new friends and watching the carnie workers setting up the Ferris wheel and roller coaster for the summer tourist season.

Sylvie also met a boy over by the carnival park named Bert Thomas who, at first, ridiculed the pony cart and had gotten on the bad side of Pumpkin by throwing gravel at her and making her jumpy. Sylvie made him stop and explained to him that she liked the donkey and also enjoyed the attention that driving the pony cart got her. He said a few snide things and offered her a cigarette and a joint which made peace.

Sylvie was skeptical of him, but in the end, he made her laugh and asked if she would like to go out with him later. He was eighteen and had his own car. She was complimented, and, despite her better judgment, said yes. Bert said she could tie Punkin up at his dad's house. She explained that she could drive the cart at night, that it had solar lights and she rode mostly on the dirt roads which had very little traffic. That would be better than letting her aunt meet Bert right now. Just an intuition, but probably a good one.

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# Chapter Two

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ASIA'S LANDLINE RANG. She ran into the kitchen to answer it. She was expecting a call from Sylvie, and not a good one. Sylvie was very late; it was already dark. Asia had been upset since Frankie had told her that Sylvie had only worked a half day and then had taken off to parts unknown with the pony cart. Asia was about to get in the Silverado with Elise (who was spending her day off at Asia's house) and go to look for her and the pony cart.

"Hello?" said Asia into the telephone.

"Hi, Asia," answered a woman's voice on the other end of the line. "You might not remember me, but your brother, Nelson, thought you might need an extra pair of hands with your niece."

"Uh," Asia hesitated, confused. "Who is this?"

"Oh, remember when you were in the Air Force?"

"Yes, of course I remember," answered Asia, brightening, but still not clear about the identity of the familiar voice.

"Well, they used to call me Doris Day, but my real name is..."

"Oh!!" exclaimed Asia, letting the full sunshine on her memory now. "Dolores Day, PFC!!"

"Well, it's Major Dolores Day now, but right ballpark. How ya' doin', Asia?"

"Could be better, but...?"

"Your brother, Nelson, met me near Abu Dhabi when I was on leave and explained that his daughter could be getting to be a handful."

"Ah, she is," commented Asia, depressed. "In fact, I don't even know where she is right now."

"And it's only the first week of a very long summer. It must be pretty late there. I'm on military time, but I would guess it is about ten pm in Illinois right now."

"Yeah, it is."

"Well, I met your brother when he was doing some construction near Al Dhafra where I was stationed. He mentioned your documentary work and I recognized you and introduced myself as an old friend of yours. We had a few beers together. To make a long story short, I have some leave coming up and he suggested I call you and see if you needed a hand."

"Multiple hands, in fact. You can stay in my home, any time. I would be delighted if you did," answered Asia, enthused about the possibility of seeing an old buddy.

"You have your own house, now?"

"Yup. Bought it as soon as I was discharged."

"Sounds great! Sure you have the space?"

"Seriously, yes. This house has lots of extra rooms. Only a few are set up as guest rooms, but there is no one staying with me except Sylvie right now. I just added two new guest rooms besides the one Sylvie is staying in."

"I can catch a military transport from the middle east to Miramar Air Force Base in San Diego and get started on the journey today. I should be there tomorrow."

"We have an airport here in Silver Lake. Give me a call about your arrival time and I'll be there to pick you up." Asia heard her phone give the call waiting signal and she said to Major Day, "Just a minute, I have another call. I'll be right back..."

"Okay. We can say goodbye now. I'll be in touch."

"Okay, fine. 'Bye for now..."

Asia switched to the new call. "Hello?"

"Hi, Asia?" Answered the voice of Sergeant Sheila Rodriguez. "Chico picked up two underage teenagers drinking a six pack at the carnival. I suspected that you were related to one of them. Her name is..."

"Sylvia Reynolds," finished Asia.

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"How would I not know?" answered Asia in a quiet voice.

"Trouble at home?"

"A little, Sheila. Her father sent her to me for the summer."

"Looks like it will be a long one. I would give you the underage alcohol lecture, but I think you know it already. By the way, the other kid we have in custody is actually the son of one of our newest Officers, Carlton Thomas. You know about him, too?"

"No," answered Asia in almost a whisper.

"Well, Bert Thomas, his boy, is quickly becoming a local hooligan. And with a cop as a father. I think we're going to get a judge to give him community service even though he is eighteen. He is still underage for alcohol and was drinking with a fifteen year old. Does Sylvie have a job?"

"She is supposed to be working full time for Frankie Franklin my neighbor."

"We'll let her go with you tonight then, if you come and pick her up."

"Thank you, Sheila. I'll be there as soon as I can. I appreciate it."

"Bert will be remanded to Chico, who is our Community Liaison Officer." Patrolman Chico Almonte was Sergeant Sheila Rodriguez's boyfriend of many years. She lived with him, Chico's father and two brothers, Cisco and Julio, at the Almonte Organic Dairy Ranch & Creamery. Both Silver Lake cops had known Asia (and Elise Jamison) since grammar school.

Asia and Elise went out to Asia's double cab. Zucchini jumped in the back seat. Elise took out a joint and lit it from the cigarette lighter. Asia looked annoyed and said, "Elise! We're going to the police station! And, besides, you're pregnant!"

"I know this, Asia. I feel depressed. This whole thing reminds me of my own puberty. And that was a train wreck."

"Ahh, geez..."

"Don't worry. Marijuana is an inspiring thing for me. It helps me communicate with the spirits."

"Oh, good!" exclaimed Asia. "Just what we need, advice from the undead."

"Don't knock it until you've tried it. In fact, I believe all of us live in parallel universes. You and everyone has help from the spirit world all the time--whether or not you are aware of it or even believe it. It is not a belief in God. It is a belief in an extended community. And don't call them ghosts - 'cause I know some smart ass crack like that is on the tip of your tongue. This is not a foolish thing. They whisper to us in order to help us find our way..." Elise took a deep toke from her reefer, inhaling her phone line to the spirit world, and offered the jay to Asia.

"No, honey. I dig it, but I have to act like Momma today and bring the baby bird back home - without getting stoned. I want to be sober when I do this."

"Where is Sylvia's mother, anyway?"

"Oh, I don't know. In Colorado or India somewhere. Nelson just acts like she's never available."

"Don't guess that helps Sylvie much."

"Don't think so."

The two friends pulled into the Silver Lake Police Department parking lot just as a large motorcycle with Sergeant Rodriguez on the back shot out onto Silver Lake Boulevard in a plume of dust and gravel. "There goes the bride of Zorro..." cracked Elise, snorting and finishing her joint by eating the snuffed out roach.

"Guess she finished her desk shift," commented Asia. "Off to catch bad guys who run stop lights and such astride her chrome mount."

"Wild thang," grunted Elise, scatting the bass line of that song. "...You make my heart sing..."

Asia snorted a laugh and got out of the truck, signaling Zookie to stay.

As soon as the two women walked into the building, they heard a loud yell. It was a shrill, young woman saying, "You are just a bunch of Nazi war criminals! Let me out!!" Some soothing voices, of female desk cops presumably, followed. Then another outburst split the air, coming from the holding cell area, "No you don't! Let me out now!" Asia cringed, recognizing the voice of her fifteen year old niece, Sylvie.

She and Elise were led around a corner by another female cop. Elise exclaimed, "Damn! That's Sylvie, isn't it?" Asia nodded numbly. "She shore's a hellcat, for real," said her friend, chuckling a little. Asia gave Elise a dirty look, and retorted, "And guess who has to listen to the rest of that diatribe tonight?!"

"I was jes' the same - actually worse - at fifteen. My language was so bad, my folks would lock me out of the house and call the preacher to come over and calm me down."

"Well," said Asia, glumly. "I'm the only one she has right now."

As soon as Sylvie spied her aunt, she started screaming, "Oh, no! Oh, no you don't! I ain't going with her!" The guard said something softly and patiently to the raging teenager and she quieted. Sylvie looked defiantly at her aunt and said, "I'm the hell not going anywhere without Bert!" Asia looked at the guard who said, "Bert will be released soon, as well."

Sylvie quieted with this and went on, "Bert's dad is a cop. Bert is afraid of him. He told me he used to beat him with a strap and an electrical cord."

Asia shook her head and said, "You know you should not be drinking with him. You got him into trouble. He is over eighteen."

Sylvie retorted, "He looks older. No one will sell me anything. I look like a kid. Grandpa used to buy me and my friends a six pack so that we could drink at his house. We never got into trouble. You won't do anything!"

Asia said, "Your grandfather didn't tell me that. Who is Bert anyway that he has to hang out with someone as young as you? He knows his dad doesn't like him drinking in public and driving."

"I can drive."

"You don't have a license."

"No one knows that."

"They do now," said Elise, the harbinger of great joy.

A policewoman came and let Sylvie out of her cell and led her to the front desk where she was given her things and released to Asia.

"I have to get the donkey and the cart at Bert's house," said Sylvie, still a little belligerent.

"I'll go get them now and Elise can drive you home."

Elise looked at Sylvie and smirked, "How was your first taste of jail? Did you try their coffee? I supply it. It is an unusual brand from Kona, Hawaii."

Sylvie looked back at Elise and said, sort of rudely, "I don't drink coffee. The food was rank, just the usual pb and j and oatmeal. The milk was good, though."

Elise laughed, "Yeah. It is organic, donated by the Almonte Organic Creamery."

"Like Officer Chico Almonte? I like him. He was nice," answered Sylvie. "Handsome, too," she added, shyly.

"The same," said Elise. "His family donates all the dairy used in the town jail. We've been trying to get local restaurants to donate leftover food to the jail, too. I know what they serve there right now isn't very good."

"How would you know? You've never been locked up here!"

Elise gave Sylvie what Asia called 'her thunderstorm look', and said, severely, "You sure some kind of know-it-all, ain't you, girl? And you didn't even have to stay here over night! I paid dues you could never even dream of. You think bein' black around here is just a piece of chiffon cake, don't you? Well, it isn't. But if you keep beggin' for it--you will know the rough side of the law. You got out without community service early, because they know your aunt. Even Bert has to do three months community service."

Sylvie interrupted, "That's because his dad is mean."

"No, it isn't," said Asia, objecting. "It's in spite of his dad. His dad wanted to give Bert a jail sentence for contributing to the delinquency of a minor. The judge sent him away to do his probation at the halfway house to protect him from his father. If you drink, try and choose someone younger than him.

"The station is aware of Bert's history with his dad. He will stay at a halfway house until his three months are over. Another officer will escort him there. We don't want you around his dad, either. Better you leave at different times."

An Officer went over to Sylvie and started unlocking her handcuffs, pulling on her arm towards the front desk, trying to lead her to the main entrance.

"Get your fucking hands off me!" shouted Sylvie, getting obstinate and angry again. Officer Chico Almonte walked over casually and looked into Sylvie's eyes with a question written on his face. Sylvie shut up immediately and looked embarrassed.

"They're just trying to uncuff you so that you can put your shoes and jacket on. We have to fill out some paperwork before you are released and given the backpack you came in with," said Chico, flashing his dimples at Sylvie and holding her by her shoulder.

"Uh, sorry," answered Sylvie smiling apologetically at Chico.

He laughed, used to stunning women with his ravishing good looks, and said, "I know this jail thing can be a trial. That is why I am a Community Liaison Officer. I try and offer some comfort when folks need someone. You should try and drink at home if you really need to party. It's still illegal, but it is safer."

"That's sort of what I told my aunt. She said I could get Bert in trouble 'cause he's over eighteen." Sylvie shot Asia a 'see-I-told-you-so' look.

Asia nodded and thought, "So now I have to get her a six pack like Pop did. Shit..." Well, life is not always nice, neat and healthy the way one would like it to be. Asia frowned, not wanting to admit that it was better to drink at home under her supervision than to be running the streets.

As long as Sylvie didn't drive a car, it might well be a better idea. She could use the pony cart safely, even when slightly inebriated.

Asia still felt reservations, shook her head and walked with Chico and the other Officer with Sylvie to the front door. She thanked Chico for being there. He patted her shoulder and flashed a dimple. She laughed, grateful for the understanding.

Sylvie, Asia and Elise walked out to the Silverado and got in. They drove over to Bert and Officer Thomas's house to get Punkin and the pony cart. As soon as they had parked, Officer Thomas came rampaging out of his house in full uniform. "You're the one!" he shouted at Sylvie. "You're the one who got my boy in all that trouble! Now he will have a record! Three months in detention. You little whore!"

At this, Asia hurried to the cart, untied a rather nervous Punkin (who started to bray rather loudly at the "w" word), and began to pull the cart out of the Thomas driveway with very little encouragement. Zucchini began barking at the cop from inside of the truck. Asia felt it was of no use to confront the angry policeman, he would get his soon enough from Sheila, no doubt.

"Oh, no!" yelled the unruly cop at Asia. "You have to clean up her mess, too! That thing, whatever it is, the mule--or whatever, has been screaming since she was tied up here. She's a nuisance! I should issue you a ticket for disturbing the peace and animal neglect."

Asia bit her lip, saying a little too softly, "She's a donkey." under her breath, ducking her head. She lit out as fast as Punkin could trot. Let him shovel the shit. Serves him right, she thought. Punkin attempted to kick at Officer Thomas as they trotted past him.

"See!" The Officer shouted at them. "That thing is dangerous!"'

Elise calmed him down by telling him she was a local news person and the whole incident could be reported on KANU if he didn't shut up, adding the fact that she had filmed the whole thing on her cell phone. That closed his mouth right away. Elise laughed a little and told the cop, "She is a donkey and is well taken care of." The Officer grumbled, turned around abruptly and slammed into his house.

"See?" said Sylvie when Elise got behind the wheel of Asia's truck.

Elise answered, "That cop is starting to get a reputation with his son and now this. I don't think he'll work for the Silver Lake Police Department very long. I don't think he'll even be in this town for much longer."

Sylvie thought of Bert and frowned. "He can't take Bert with him. He'll hurt him."

"He is eighteen. He can decide for himself."

"Regardless of his age, his dad is abusive. Bert would have to run away without his dad knowing anything about it if he had thought he could get away with it. He is afraid of his dad, even at his age."

Carlton Thomas leaned out of a window and peered at the two women in the pickup truck. He shouted, "Hey, you two get out of here! Don't even think of sneaking around my house!"

Elise looked at Sylvie who was ducking slightly. She said, "What the hell is he so worried about? I don't need to see his nasty old rental house." Zucchini added emphasis by barking loudly in the direction of Carlton Thomas's house.

Sylvie answered, "A lot of people think he is not only crazy, but that he seems to be hiding something, too. There's a big pile of welding equipment and scrap rebar in his garage."

"That's gross. Hiding something? Like what? You know I am a reporter, maybe I will be the one that gets him fired from the SLPD. It would be a delight."

"Nobody know what weirdness Carl Thomas is into, not even Bert and he lives there."

"Are you sure? I mean Bert is his son. Even he could be lying to you. You just said he is afraid of his dad."

"I don't know," said Sylvie, obviously getting agitated. "Let's go, Mrs. Jamison. Drive, please! I want to get out of here! I need to feed the goats and Punkin. And I don't like this place. It gives me the creeps."

Elise was surprised and pleased at Sylvie's sudden sense of responsibility. She guessed that Officer Thomas's display of hatred made Sylvie long for the peace of Asia's little home. She was correct.

Sylvie said, "I promised Ms. Franklin that I would make sure all of Asia's animals were cared for at all times even when Asia was busy. I can tell if Frankie or Asia fed and cleaned them."

"Okay, honey," said Elise. "We'll be there soon. It is not far from here."

"Phew! That guy is nuts."

"You have to be careful about some of the summer people here, which includes the Thomases obviously. Just hang out with Harry and Sage. They can introduce you to some nicer folks."

Sylvie smiled, "Yeah. I would like that. Maybe they can come over tomorrow and play some music in the barn while I take care of the animals. I'll bet the animals at Frankie's would like that too. You know how music calms animals down. Some of our rescues could use some tenderness."

"Sounds like a plan," commented Elise as she pulled up Asia's drive, let Sylvie out with Zucchini and parked the Silverado next to her own car. It was pitch dark. It had been a very long day.

__________

At about 1am Asia's phone rang. She panicked slightly remembering the turbulence when she first met Rainier Voss this winter, wishing he was there now. But it was Major Day on the phone.

She apologized about calling so late and explained that she had to take this flight into Silver Lake due to bad weather involving a couple of other flight choices - or be stuck in an airport for a couple of days.

All the hotels in Silver Lake were booked solid due to the beginning of the summer tourist season, so she had nowhere to stay the night. She apologized again and said she wanted to get into Silver Lake as early as possible, so this is what had happened.

Asia mumbled something to the effect that it was okay, almost in tears after her long day of chasing down her niece. Dolores asked if she could take a taxi over.

"Of course, of course," answered Asia, racked with exhaustion, but still sympathetic. She was not about to let Major Day spend the night at the airport. "Come on over. My guest rooms are all set up. I have been supervising their decoration and re-painting for weeks. I'll just make the bed. There is food in the fridge you can heat up if you are hungry."

They hung up and Asia fell back on her pillows, promising herself that she would only rest a few minutes before she got up to make the bed in the new guest room. Instead, she fell into a deep sleep until she was jarred awake by a pounding on her front door and her dog barking.

"Oh, shit..." she thought to herself as she realized what had happened and threw her robe on, running down the stairs to the first floor. She opened the door to a laughing woman in full military dress. "Hi Asia," said the woman, embracing Asia and letting in some cold night air with her. Asia, fully awake now, pulled one of Major Day's suitcases into her living room as Zucchini went over, wagging her tail.

"Oh, my, what a beautiful dog. She's yours? What's her name?"

"Zucchini. I got her a few years ago when I became a vegetarian."

The Major feigned shock. "The queen of steak sauce a veggie? I don't believe it."

"Yeah, I thought I'd better cleanse myself after I dumped my cigarette habit."

"I don't blame you. I guess I can use a few all vegetable meals once in a while myself, too. I am pretty flexible on tofu, soba and other oriental dishes since we were stationed together on Kadena Air Force Base in Okinawa, back in the day."

"Sure. That is a reason I found vegetarianism so easy. I like oriental foods, too. I also have some frozen, prepared meat dishes for my friends downstairs in my basement. Go ahead and choose whatever you wish to eat. It is up to you."

Major Day made up her own bed and the house grew quiet again. Asia fell across her own bed, still dressed in her robe and slept like that until morning. By the time she awoke, Sylvie was already gone to Franklin's Rib Shack to work for the day. She and Major Day had obviously eaten breakfast with each other. Dolores was outside reading Asia's local paper, drinking a cup of coffee.

Asia felt like going back upstairs and getting a couple of extra hours sleep. Instead, she put some "wake up" mint tea on the stove and shuffled outside to talk to Dolores and do some catching up. She sat down and picked up a copy of the L.A. Times that Dolores had brought with her and felt her body sag into the deep cushions of her lawn chair. Zucchini came over to her and nuzzled her hand. That dog always knew her sweet spot and the right time to use it.

Dolores smiled at the two of them and said, "Guess I got in a bit late. Sylvie said she got arrested yesterday for underage alcohol."

"Yeah," said Asia. "Good thing I know a couple of our local cops. They had her charges kept to a misdemeanor and released her to me."

"You look exhausted. I am so sorry I had to wake you last night."

"It was a really long day. I was chasing dragons all evening. In fact, it has been a really long two days. If I wasn't chasing dragons, I was fighting one. Sylvie is really dumping everything on me."

"I hope I can help with that. We got along fine this morning. She can be a very attractive, nice young woman. She didn't show her fangs even once."

Asia felt grateful to her friend and felt herself getting drowsy just as her tea kettle began to whistle. Dolores got up and went into the kitchen. Asia dropped the Times on her knees and closed her eyes, falling asleep. She slept sitting up for at least two hours or more, awakening to some rather nice smells emanating from her kitchen, embarrassed by her tiredness and lack of hospitality towards her old friend.

Dolores came outside, took a look at her and smiled warmly. "Ah, coming home from the land of Nod, now are we? Poor thing, I think your niece wore you out already." Asia felt herself tear up. A stray tear found its way down her cheek. She sniffled. Major Day went on to compliment Asia on her remodeled old Victorian, "I just love waking up to this patio off your dining room. The glass doors there make the indoor-outdoor feeling sweet. And the plants in the dining room and out here enhance that feeling. Did you landscape and design this yourself?"

Asia answered with a half smile and said, "Yes."

"Here is some hot tea. I saw you stretch from the kitchen, so I knew you had awakened. My turn to play hostess and make up for last night."

Asia sneezed a few times and felt a summer cold coming on. She sipped a little hot tea and felt slightly better. Then, she coughed, felt her throat get rough and blew her nose in a paper napkin.

She got up to get some Vitamin C and try and open her sinuses. She went into the kitchen and took that and a Multi-Vitamin. She went outside again and sat in the sun.

Asia sneezed yet again. Dolores brought a tray with some sandwiches on it, but Asia could not eat anything. She drank more tea, without honey this time. The morning sun felt good on her congested chest. The spearmint tea was helpful, but she just did not have a taste for food right now.

Asia groaned and tried to breathe. Her chest felt like a load of bricks was sitting on it. As alternative as she usually was, she needed some Vicks, right now. She pulled herself up and told a concerned Dolores where the frozen vegan and meat dishes were downstairs in the basement, and that she had to go lay down again. She called Frankie who volunteered to come over and take care of Asia's livestock since Sylvie was being trained at the Rib Shack.

Dolores said she would love to meet the Chihuahua (who still would not leave Pumpkin's side to go into Asia's house even for five minutes), Punkin and the nanny goats - so she would join Frankie in cleaning up and grooming before Frankie had to go to work at her Rib Shack. Dolores rubbed Asia's shoulders and told her to take care of herself, go back to bed and let her know if she needed anything. She volunteered to call a doctor, but Asia just wanted to stretch and doctor herself. She did ask Dolores to fix some plain "Breathe Easy" tea, though. No milk, no honey.

Asia climbed the stairs to her second floor and turned on her humidifier, putting a little menthol in the water. She ran a hot bath and put special bath crystals in it - crystals meant to open congestion - which they did. Asia put more Vicks under her nose and on her chest. Then, she pretty much passed out on her bed.

The sweet summer sunlight of that morning warmed her legs and body. Sleep captured her mind and she forgot her troubles and entered a place where there was no illness, only that delicious warmth.

Meanwhile, later that afternoon, Sylvia was having fun learning how to make Franklin's super Bar-B-Que sauce and learning how to baste the cooking ribs. Franklin's sold both pork and beef ribs. Sylvie also prepared tubs of their popular Cole Slaw and Potato Salad. By that evening, Sylvie was getting tired, but Frankie made sure that Sylvie had been given a free lunch which Sylvie thoroughly enjoyed.

At the end of her workday, she asked to take a bag of pork ribs, potato salad, sweet potato whip and Cole Slaw home for Dolores and Asia. Of course, Frankie agreed. Sylvie was doubly happy because she had managed not to smoke any cigarettes while she was being trained at the Rib Shack. All this work was good for her quitting program.

This was a training day for Sylvie, although Franklin's Rib Shack didn't become hectic until around six pm to about ten pm--especially on weekends, Frankie felt it would be too confusing for Sylvie on her first day to have to learn in that kind of atmosphere.

Next week, perhaps she could introduce Sylvie to the weekend rush. Sylvie was anxious to get back to Asia's. Her feet hurt and she needed to sit down. She had had a good day for the first time since coming to Silver Lake. Funny it was from working so intensively.

She gave Dolores the food bags and went right to the barn when she got home. She called Zucchini to come with her. Asia's livestock liked her as much as she liked them, which was a lot. She was teaching Thelma and Louise a hysterical version of barnyard soccer with a hard-shelled beach ball. They were getting really skilled at it. Sylvie would throw it at their hooves, and they would butt it around to each other, mostly with their heads. She smoked only one cigarette after work and felt good about curtailing her habit to such a large degree.

Sylvie would toss the ball to the two goats and they would parry it back and forth until it got "out of bounds", then Punkin or even Fuzzy Bud would try and get it "in their court". Zucchini had the easiest time getting it away from the goats. To which they would loudly protest, to Sylvie's amusement.

Punkin had a hard time playing "keep away" with the two goats--they got right in there and stole the ball, which usually caused Punkin to object loudly and bray at them. Fuzzy Bud basically could only chase the ball a very little bit. It was too big for her to do very much other than run around it and bark at it. She ran interference for Zucchini. Sylvie had a great time running around trying to keep up with the whole thing. She, of course, had cleaned the entire barn first. It would have made no sense at all running into piles of animal leavings.

After the game, she put out some clean barley hay for Punkin and gave the goats some feed. She filled Fuzzy's kibble bowl and walked to Asia's back door, tired but happy, for once. Dolores had heated up some of Asia's frozen vegetarian lasagna (without knowing it was vegetarian) mostly for Sylvie, sensitively assuming she would not want any more of Frankie's Rib Shack fare. The two of them sat down for dinner. Dolores having some of the lasagna with her ribs, sweet potato and Cole Slaw.

"Where is Asia?" asked Sylvie.

"She has a really bad cold and has been in bed all day," answered Dolores.

"Oh," said Sylvie, without much emotion. "You know, I was thinking of signing up for the Air Force. Do you think they would take me? I'm pretty good in school. I was on the honor roll for one semester in freshman year."

"I think you need to wait at least two more years before you are eligible. You have to be at least seventeen. It would also be good if you finished high school before you join - you would have a much better chance of becoming an officer or getting into the Air Force Academy and avoiding the more dangerous jobs by choice. Also, the Academy is a college. You might want to keep your advancement options open."

"I see," said Sylvie, obviously disappointed, but still looking a little keen on the idea.

"With decent officer pay, you could buy a farm like this one. You might like that."

Sylvie smiled at Major Day and nodded her head enthusiastically.

"Yeah!" she said. "I would love that! Maybe Bert could join, too!"

"Aren't you going a little fast with that relationship?"

Sylvie looked at her hands as the Major served elaborate sundaes of vanilla, chocolate, whipped cream and fresh strawberries from Asia's garden, not waiting for the reply to her rather unwanted question.

"Yum!" exclaimed Sylvie, digging in and ignoring the Major's last comment. "Bert and I get along really well for having just met. Neither one of us have mothers in our lives and his dad is really rough with him. He needs to get out of there."

"He is old enough to join up now. Did he finish high school? It is not a requirement--but the better you did in high school, the more likely it is that you can get into the Academy. It also means a higher pay scale."

"Bert did really well in high school. He was a B+ student. He is really smart and good in math, science and everything. He could go to college and wants to be a lawyer, but his dad won't let him go, even with a scholarship. Bert could get an academic scholarship, but his dad still wouldn't let him, and he insists on listing Bert as a dependent on his income taxes. Bert sneaks around and fixes cars for money. His dad won't even let him get a regular job. I want to help him, but it is tricky."

"Wow," said Major Day. "I can see that. We'll see if I can think of anything."

"Actually," answered Sylvie. "We wanted to join the military together. But I might have to wait three years until I finish high school."

"Maybe he can just fix cars and save up his money and wait until you graduate high school."

"Don't discuss his mechanical work with anyone unless they are potential customers and can keep their mouths shut and stay away from his dad. His dad doesn't know about it or he wouldn't let Bert do it. It's amazing that he did so well in high school with his dad beating him and everything. He almost has enough money to move out, but it would be hard to hide from his father--him being a cop and all. Because of you, we thought of the military. We could transfer to a base overseas and he would have other military to protect him from any assaults from his father."

Major Day was startled by this sudden, intelligent, elaborate plan of escape for Sylvie's friend of only two days, but she remembered well her first love as a teenager and how quickly they had moved into loyalty and passion. She was determined to protect Sylvie from anything that might hurt her, including poorly thought-out decisions.

"I will give all of this some deep thought," she answered the young girl sincerely. Wisely, she put herself in the middle of Sylvie's plans rather than lose the girl's trust and confidence.

"Thanks, Major," said Sylvie, warmly. "Just don't tell anyone about this. Especially my aunt." Sylvie got up and cleared the table, starting to wash the dishes. "Aunt Asia must be really sick. I've never known her to miss a meal. I need to use her computer tonight. I want to email my boyfriend in Chicago, my dad and my grandpa."

"Sure. I think Asia is out of it tonight." Major Day paused, thoughtfully. Then she continued, questioning, "You have two boyfriends?"

"Uh. Bert is just a friend. I won't have sex with anyone, just yet. I can wait. That's too quick for me. When I am ready to commit to a more intimate relationship, maybe around nineteen or twenty - definitely after high school, then I'll think about it. It is too easy for younger boys to get confused by physical stuff and become too possessive. My dad and I have talked about this extensively. I want a love relationship, not a lust relationship. Even with the birth control pill, it's too soon for me."

Major Day was surprised at Sylvie's mature ideas. She answered, "That's good thinking. We'll discuss your choices for the military later, okay? I can guide you."

"Great, Major Day!" exclaimed Sylvie, hugging her new friend. "Just don't breathe a word of this to my aunt, dad or grandpa. It will be just between the two of us. Well...three of us, including Bert." The Major ruffled Sylvie's hair and said, "Sure, honey. It'll just be between the two of us."

Sylvie dried her hands on a dish towel, drained the hot soapy water out of the sink and ran upstairs with Zucchini (who was becoming a close companion of hers) to Asia's office to use her laptop to write her emails and probably research the military.

Asia was propped up in bed, watching the local, national and international news and feeling better after drinking some fizzy Emergen C, orange juice and eating half a grapefruit. In fact, she was starting to get her appetite back. Dolores stuck her head in the room and asked, "How are you feeling?"

Asia answered with a stuffed nose and scratchy sounding throat, "Bedder...what'd ooo hab for dinner?"

"Defrosted lasagna from downstairs, pork ribs, potato salad, cole slaw and ice cream."

"Gud choice. I cud use a little of the lasagna."

Dolores was surprised at Asia's quick recovery. "Well, uh, sure! You sure you want some? It's a meat dish, I think."

"No, actually it isn't. Yeah, just a saucer-full would be fine. I'm getting hungry."

"Sure, I had no idea it was vegetarian. I'll get some for you. How about ice cream?"

"Naw. No dairy just yet. That's part of my secret for beating congestion. The lasagna just has soy. That and some plain hot "Breathe Easy" tea without honey will be fine. Thanks!"

"No problem. I'll be right back!"

Asia rested on her pillows. Dolores Day was just as wonderful as she was when they were military buddies. No matter what, she always had a sunny personality and was energetic almost to a fault, which was how she got the nickname "Doris Day". Asia chuckled to herself, sure she was handling Sylvie rather well, too. Dang, it was almost worth being sick, she thought to herself.

|  |

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# Chapter Three

--------

"BUT YOU CAN'T JOIN now! You said you were going to wait for me," pleaded Sylvie as she worked in Frankie Franklin's barn the next day and talked to Bert Thomas who had surprised her by showing up there.

"For three years, Sylvie? I need to get out of here now! They've pretty much promised me the Air Force Academy. You graduate the Academy with one of their many B. S. degrees and a commission as a Second Lieutenant. That is really a wonderful opportunity. The best I could have hoped for. I spoke with both an Air Force recruiter and Chico Almonte. I cannot jump probation, but as soon as this is over with, I can get the misdemeanor charges expunged, the Air Force will probably give me a waiver with Chico's and Sheila's recommendation (and a Silver Lake judge's) ... and I'm gone! I really want to start school this September and leave by the end of the summer."

"I understand. It's the best thing for you. I would probably only be a PFC anyway."

"Don't be so down on yourself. You have to finish high school. Don't bs with your future. I don't have anyone else to rely on. It's important. Promise?"

"Yeah, promise. Wait a minute...what am I promising?"

"You're promising that you will take your schoolwork and your future seriously so we can be together again even if we have to wait."

"Okay Bertram Thomas. I promise."

"Ya' bettah!"

"I do, buddy."

"Okay, buddy."

"Then you better go back to your room at 'Halfway There' and not fuck it up."

"Okay, I just wanted to see you. You missed visiting hours. I got lonely. I have permission to take a couple of hours. I don't tell you everything. I should be back in time."

"I was working. I have to work, or I'll go crazy here with nothing to do."

"Man, I know about that," answered Bert, sincerely.

"Yeah. We both do. Gotta be creative out here in the boonies."

"Stay away from the devil," said Bert.

"Mucho, amigo."

"Love you, girlfriend."

"Don't go too fast on me," commented Sylvie, sounding older than she was.

"I know, you have that guy in Chicago."

"Could be. But friends are important too," responded Sylvie, wisely.

"Love ya', friend."

"Bye, Bert. Love you, too. Do good for me."

"Gotcha'!"

Bert rode off on his bicycle with a backwards wave like the Lone Ranger on his valiant steed, Silver.

He actually might just make it without getting into trouble. I swear, sometimes I feel like that boy's mother, thought Sylvie. She went back to Frankie's barn and finished cleaning tons of chicken boo and goat boo and even dog boo. There was boo everywhere, even in Frankie's front yard. Some of the chicken boo got buried in Frankie's garden for fertilizer. Good thing she worked here. The whole place would have disappeared underneath an enormous pile of animal boo if she didn't.

Sylvie called home (Aunt Asia's). Major Day shocked her by saying, flippantly, "Your aunt is dead. She died of pneumonia this afternoon while you were at work. Like you care?"

"I do," shouted Sylvie still in a sort of paralysis at the news. "Where will I go? What will I do? Oh, my god!"

"You inherited everything. Don't worry. You're rich!"

"Oh, geez! Does my dad know? Her Pop is going to have a heart attack."

"Sorry."

"About what?"

"I'm lying."

"Hunh?" responded a shocked Sylvie.

"Your aunt is just fine. Just wanted to know where your heart really was."

"Damn it! She's family. Of course, I care."

"Okay. I apologize."

"You frightened me," said Sylvie, with anger.

"Sometimes I'm so mean, I scare myself."

"I can see why," said Sylvie dryly - breathing a huge sigh of relief. Major Day finally stopped laughing.

"Want me to pick you up from work?" asked Major Day, generously.

"Yeah. After what you just did, you can bring me a cold Seven Up, as well."

"Hah, okay, Syl, will do. Be there in fifteen minutes."

"Bring a newspaper for me to sit on. I stink."

"You need to leave a set of clean clothes over there so you can shower and change before you get in the truck - or sit next to a clean human or even a clean dog."

"Good thought. Just bring a newspaper for today, though."

"Okay. See ya'."

"Bye, Major."

"Bye, smelly."

The Major heard a burst of laughter from that dizzy, little dragon, Sylvie Reynolds, who might just have been shocked enough to see the worth of her aunt's efforts to help her now.

__________

Later that week, Sylvie got a call on her cell phone that Bert had been transferred to Sgt. Sheila Rodriguez's custody and had moved out of the Halfway There  halfway house to the Almonte residence. Sylvie had been invited over on her day off and was planning on taking the pony cart with Punkin who would probably enjoy the company of Chica and Niño, the two Almonte horses.

Sylvie went to the library and got some books out for Bert. He loved to read. One of his recent favorites was Hemingway who was not a favorite with Sylvie who found him abusive and sexist. She much preferred women writers such as Emily Dickinson (regardless of the old-fashioned poetic structure) and Maya Angelou--even Charles Dickens to Hemingway. But not Bert, Bert liked Hemingway's somewhat flawed sense of adventure. So, she borrowed, The Sun Also Rises, The Complete Short Stories, Islands in the Stream and The Snows of Kilimanjaro for him. That ought to keep him for a while, she thought.

For adventure, Top Gun was quickly becoming Bert's favorite film. Chico had told her Bert had replayed the movie many times on the laptop the Almontes had given him. Chico had even bought an expensive flying simulation program for Bert, which he played obsessively. Chico had even found a target practice game online that he insisted increased accuracy at firing weaponry. Bert studied everything he could online about the Air Force and the Air Force Academy. He also found out that the Air Force could even offer him free graduate school or a good subsidy depending on what he elected to study.

__________

As Sylvie walked up the stairs to the second floor of the Almontes that Saturday...to Bert's new room, she could hear the loud, exploding noises of a video game. Chico had told her that it was difficult to get Bert away from the computer long enough to get him outside to exercise, eat or take time to do anything else. Sylvie could hear Pumpkin braying outside along with the loud neighs of Chica, the gentle Almonte mare who was in the same corral as the donkey. Fuzzy had decided to take a nap on her blanket inside the pony cart and stay out from underfoot. Zucchini had followed Sylvie up the stairs.

Sylvie had made peace with Asia over the last week and relished, as usual, any outing that included Asia's animals. Sylvie was much happier than she had been when she first landed in Silver Lake. She had made herself endlessly useful caretaking for Asia's and Frankie's animals.

She particularly liked Junior, the St. Bernard puppy that Frankie had kept from the unexpected litter of her rescued St. Bernard, Hunny, that previous winter. She had started begging her dad and Asia to let her adopt him for her own. Right now, the decision was hanging in the air, but she didn't think it hurt to keep on trying. Junior was the cutest thing she had ever seen and was already neutered and trained.

She knocked on Bert's door; her arms filled with the novels. She felt--compared with the noise of Bert's video game--her knocking sounded like a little mouse. There was, of course, no answer. She tried the doorknob. The door opened slightly. To her surprise, she saw a military-style video game up on the wall playing on a very large flat screen TV. Bert did not hear her come in.

She put the books down on his desk and went over to him, putting her hand on his shoulder. He jumped and twisted around to look at her. He laughed and put the game on "pause". To Sylvie's added surprise, she spied a bench press in the corner of the large room and an easel with the beginnings of a rather good painting of a black stallion on the canvas.

The scent of acrylic paints was still in the air. There was also a shelf filled with magazines, books and DVDs. There were lovely, full-color Air Force posters framed on the walls. "Holy Mother!" she exclaimed, amazed at the abundance.

"Kind of looks like Christmas," said Bert, smiling. "Doesn't it?"

"Sure does. Who...?"

"Chico is my man. He gave me all of this. He said if I had to spend the entire summer in his house, he'd better get to know me and help me qualify for the Academy."

"He's a pretty nice guy."

"You said it. My dad would never let me keep any of this if he knew about it. But Chico knows the score and said even on leave from the Academy and in the future, I could call this home and all this stuff is mine, absolutely, including the room. He's even talking about getting me a horse and tack. My dad doesn't know anything about it. He'd have a fit if he did."

"Just as well he doesn't know, then."

"Yeah," said Bert, ruefully. "Wanna see a movie? You can probably stay as long as you like. Sheila will be home soon. No one minds now if I have visitors. All the Almontes are really nice. I love it here."

"I can see why. Even Sergeant Rodriguez is okay with all of this? She is a Commanding Officer in the SLPD."

"Of course, she is okay with my life here. She's the one who gave me the acrylic paint set."

"The painting of the horse is actually a gift for you, but it is not done yet. It is a portrait of Chico's horse Niño. He is magnificent. I am actually not painting it live. That is too difficult to do. I have a photograph I am painting from. Most portraits are done from photos since it is impossible to get a subject, especially an animal subject to hold the same posture for very long."

"You paint super good," complimented Sylvie. She hugged Bert, who blushed a little. All this shyness from such a formerly tough boy was very appealing to Sylvie. "Oh, Bert, I love it! You are so very talented. I brought you some of your favorite Hemingway from the library."

"Great, Sylvie! I need to spend some quiet time in the evening after Sheila gets home. The games are too loud. Chico is getting both of us some headphones."

"He plays too?"

"Oh yeah, big time. He's teaching me to shoot a hunting rifle. I know how to shoot a pistol. We also exercise and jog together. It is all to get ready for the Academy."

"You can learn to shoot a gun on probation?"

"Well, yeah. He's my probation officer's boyfriend. I promised to touch those weapons only when we have target practice together or clean them. Seriously got myself a little piece of heaven if I'm careful."

Bert's life definitely looked as if it was turning around with all the care the Almonte family gave him.

Zucchini had found a soft place on Bert's bed. She began to growl, whimper and make a lot of noise, suddenly awakening and facing the door.

"Wha...?!" exclaimed Bert, confused.

The door to his room burst open and Bert's dad, Carlton Thomas, strode in. Zucchini stood on the bed, the hair on her neck rose. She bared her teeth. Thomas withdrew his service revolver and pointed it at the defensive Husky.

"No!" yelled Sylvie, wondering where the Almonte men were. Wondering where anybody was. Why the heck weren't they here?!

"I'll kill her if she so much as breathes in my direction." Thomas pulled the hammer of his gun into the ready position. The off-duty policeman started to laugh at the startled expressions on the two teenager's faces and sang a few stanzas of Johnny Cash's song Ring of Fire, which was not at all musical or funny. The cop took a look around the room and sneered. "You live with all this crap?" he said at Bert, derisively.

"Yeah," said Bert. "These were all gifts for me."

Carlton took aim at the wide screen TV and said, "Before I go, I think I'll just smash that pretty TV screen." Bert looked at the floor, helplessly. The cop shut the door ominously behind his large, muscular body. Sylvie got the reluctant Zucchini to lay down again. She sat down on the bed and put her arm over the dog's shoulders protectively. The big dog was still tensed to spring.

Sylvie took a chance and said to Bert's father, "You probably shouldn't get Zookie riled up, she's a trained..."

"Piece of shit...is what she is. A perfectly trained piece of shit dog. I can shoot her in self-defense--big as she is."

Sylvie soothed the still tensed dog with loving hands, restraining her to protect her, not Carl Thomas. She would rather die herself, than have anyone hurt her sweet new friend, Zucchini. Life hadn't been all that appealing lately anyway. She heard a door slam loudly downstairs. An accidental tear trickled down her face. She looked pleadingly at Bert. Bert spread his hands and looked at the floor.

Carlton Thomas said, roughly, "Damn right, lady. He's helpless. My son is weak and powerless, and he knows it. He's never been worth shit. Spent all his time reading. Nobody here to protect you and that damn mangy dog. I can do whatever I please. The back door was unlocked, I just walked right on in. You two just sit tight until I figure out what I want to do with you and all this sissy junk baby Bert has in this garbage pile. You think you live here or something, you idiot?" Carl took a swing at Bert but missed. Bert cried out.

The door to Bert's room slammed open and Sheila Rodriguez stomped in, her gun aimed squarely at Carlton Thomas. She looked pretty grim in her knee-high, spit-shined motorcycle boots and full uniform.

"What the hell are you doing in my house?!" She looked at Thomas's now wavering revolver.

"You have your gun on them?! You are now officially charged with criminal trespass. Put the gun away. You are in so much trouble, Officer. Until now, all the gossip about your abuse of power and the treatment of your son had been officially unconfirmed. You have never been formally charged with anything, anywhere. But now, I think I can get a judge - I know I can get a judge to issue a restraining order against you. Your job is up to the Chief. We will see about that. Personally, I think you had better stay away from your son and this household if you want to keep on being any kind of a cop."

Thomas exploded as he holstered his revolver. "He's my son! He belongs to me!"

"Hold on there, mister. Not in this house he doesn't. He's over eighteen and legally emancipated. He can live here the rest of his life if he wants to. He is in my legal custody and I am your Commanding Officer. You are on your way out of here, unless you want to leave in cuffs with a felony criminal mischief charge, lose your job and wind up with a jail sentence on top of all that.

"And you will never be working in law enforcement ever again, guaranteed. Not that I would have hired you to begin with. That's a lot of very heavy stuff that is definitely not in your favor. Now, Officer Thomas," said Sheila, practically choking on the word 'Officer'. "I would suggest you start moving your slow ass down the stairs and out my door. Don't even think of coming back here. And that includes any part of our ranch or farmland. I will talk to you later about your job after I speak to the Chief."

Carlton Thomas hung his head and shuffled slowly towards the door. He stopped to glare at Bert and Sylvie. Zucchini stood up on the bed with the hair on her neck sticking straight up, stiff as a brush. She growled and showed her teeth at Carl again. He left Bert's room in front of Sheila's revolver which was still pointed at his back.

"Oh, god," said Bert, wringing his hands. "I hope they don't fire him. He could kill me just over that restraining order alone. He'll go on a rampage if they fire him. He is dangerous and has a huge arsenal of weapons at home, automatic rifles and everything. He has to keep that job."

"Sheila was pretty angry," answered Sylvie, a little confused by Bert's thinking. "I, personally, don't think your dad should carry a gun for a living regardless of how large an arsenal he has."

"The Chief is on his side; they go way back. Oh, the court will grant the restraining order. It's not the first time. But I bet he breaks my bones later. He can lie in wait for months, planning to get back at me. That's why I'm glad Sheila and the Almontes insisted that I stay here and become part of their family. You know Chico and Sheila are planning to get married. She wants to run for Chief of Police. Silver Lake needs a new police chief. It really does. Anyone who can back my dad has to be..."

"...pretty dirty and low down," finished Sylvie, pounding the bed with her fist and startling Zucchini who gave a short bark of surprise. "Yeah, I've heard Sheila is going to run for Chief as soon as she thinks she will win."

"She could win now. Well, she'll know when. She grew up here. This is her hometown. I heard that Chico wants to teach elementary school, so one of them will not have to carry a gun and be free to be home early for their children and for summers and holidays."

"Sounds like a good plan. I would want to be home for my children too."

Bert suddenly looked angry and sullen. He became withdrawn and turned his war game back on, with the sound up a little too high. The animated planes roared inside the room again. Sylvie felt shut out and got up, depressed, calling Zucchini. She wanted to leave. Bert was so inexplicably moody sometimes. She felt lucky to have family, because she assumed that Bert did not have any other family to depend on besides his dad. Maybe her family did not always do what she wanted them to, but they had always been there for her. Not so, Bert. Bert really seemed to have no one at all. She said goodbye and left, letting herself out the kitchen door.

__________

Sylvie came slamming in Asia's back door and Asia jumped, dropping a saucer on the kitchen floor, breaking it. Zucchini started barking from Asia's nervousness. Frankie Franklin walked into the kitchen without knocking as per

most of Asia's friends. She was followed by Junior, a large, fluffy, five month old red and white St. Bernard puppy with over-sized feet and a silly, friendly "grin" on his face. He boyishly bounded over to Sylvie and knocked her hand onto his big baby head and rubbed his chin back and forth on her knee. Sylvie knelt down and put her arms around Junior, burying her face in his baby fuzz.

"I bring tidings of joy," said Frankie, smiling with a wide grin. Asia looked at her and smiled too, saying, "I could use some happy news. I need a little cheering up."

"This is the best," answered Frankie, heightening their anticipation of her news.

"Well?" said Asia.

Sylvie said something to the big puppy who tried to lick her face. She frowned, but laughed in spite of herself, sitting down on the floor with the big puppy at least a head taller than she was.

Frankie said, her voice rolling like warm taffy at the carnival, "Elise is about three months pregnant. She says she got pregnant on her honeymoon in the West Indies..."

Asia sat down and wiped her wet hands with a dish towel, amazed and thinking back to how Elise had been the smallest child in her third grade class and how they had made friends when Asia defended her on the playground at school. Instead of bullying her, she had admired her fragility and the smallness of her tiny body and hands. Now little Elise, as successful as she had been in her career as a news reporter--being promoted to head anchor at KANU--was going to be a mother. Wow did the world change quickly! Right in front of Asia's eyes! She smiled to herself.

Frankie interrupted her reverie--lost in the past that it was. "Elise is having twins, or so the doctors say."

Asia smiled more widely and asked, "When is she due?"

"I don't know, really...sometime this summer or fall ... depending."

Sylvie broke into this poignant conversation by getting up and putting her arms around her aunt, saying, "I'm so glad you're all right, Aunt Asia. I got so scared when Major Day said you had died. I'm so sorry I gave you a hard time. I love you; I always have and probably always will. Bert has no one, but I have you and everyone else in the family. And that is precious." A few tears ran down Sylvie's face as she hugged her aunt.

Major Day walked in and started making herself a sandwich with Asia's still warm loaf of mixed grain freshly baked bread. "So, what's goin' on, my sweets?" asked the Major at the odd group of women, one crying and the other looking as happy as a big fish that had swallowed a guppy. Sylvie hugged Asia once again and stood back, still holding her aunt's hand. Asia, Frankie and Sylvie said all at once, "Elise is having twins!"

"Who," asked Major Day, "is Elise? Remember I just got here."

"Elise Jamison is an old elementary school friend, along with Chico Almonte and Sheila Rodriguez. So, you know. She just got married, went to Jamaica, toured Costa Rica and the Bahamas and got pregnant."

"With twins!" said Sylvie, finally releasing Asia from her grip, laughing. It was good to see her happy. She said, "You should see Bert's room at the Almontes. It is sooo very cool. He paints like a genius. He is sure he will make the Air Force Academy, too. He is so very talented and smart."

"So, what changed your mood, Sylvie? How is Bert?" asked the Major, amazed at the change in Sylvie.

Sylvie's face fell, reminded about the danger of Bert's father. "Bert is okay. His dad pulled a gun on him, me and Zookie in the Almonte house."

Everyone fell into a shocked silence. "Don't worry," said Sylvie. "Sheila walked in and escorted him out. At gun point."

"I'll bet she did," exclaimed Major Day. "Bet that's not all they do to him."

"Sheila's getting a restraining order against him. The Chief of Police is a personal friend of his, so that is all they think they can do for now."

Frankie interrupted, "You know, I've never liked that Chief Ackerman. I have nothing material against him, he just feels like he would love to hurt someone if he could. Not that he could with Sheila, Chico and most of the other cops around him. But the fact that he even hired Carlton Thomas says something. If Carlton ever pulls his gun on any of our animals again, I'll kill him."

"Maybe he won't be that stupid with his job threatened," said Sylvie still hugging Junior--who was starting to fall asleep in her arms. "I love this dog, Aunt Asia."

"He's very responsive to training," said Frankie, warmly. "He gets along just fine with Big Boy, Zucchini and all of my menagerie. He's a real peacenik."

"I think Nelson will let you keep him, if you want him. He can stay here if it's okay with Frankie."

"If?!" said Frankie, emphatically. "Those super-sized dogs eat a lot of food. Junior's the last of Hunny's litter. Been tryin' to adopt him out for at least three months. Sylvie's good with animals, sure she can have him. He's been neutered and is up on his shots, too. Besides, I'll get to see him that way. I like the little critter."

Asia looked at her old friend and said, "And please try not to shoot anybody, Frankie. As much as I think Carlton Thomas fits the 'scum-of-the-earth' category of people, it could get too complicated for you. Especially with the Chief possibly siding with him."

"If he so much as looks at me cross-eyed..." threatened the spunky, unmollified Frankie in a rough voice.

"Call Sheila or Chico," said Major Day, invoking wisdom.

"Yeah, you have that new cell phone now," Asia added. "That's what cell phones are for. Why tempt a felony? You are too old."

Frankie looked red-eyed at Asia, "I'm never too old to shoot a bad man in the butt."

"True," said Asia, laughing. "But we do not want to see you in jail."

"I know every judge in this town. Grew up with some of them."

Major Day, Asia and Sylvie all thought at the same time, that's one ornery old lady.

"I got that cell phone so that it would be easier to catch no goods like Carlton Thomas an send them to the same hell hole they create for others," snapped Frankie.

"We can call you when you are wandering around at night on your 'patrol' now," said Asia.

"Damn right! Gotta protect the community," said Frankie with some pride in her voice.

"And yourself, too..." added Major Day. The Major's cell phone rang, she answered it and looked concerned.

Frankie looked at Asia and asked, "Well, gotta go feed my livestock. This is Sylvie's day off. What about Junior here, should I leave him?"

Sylvie's eyes sparkled and she buried her face in the mammoth puppy's fuzzy head. He snorted and fell on his back, paws in the air. Sylvie scratched his tummy. He nuzzled her, rolled around again and ran around the room, looking for his tennis ball. He was never far from that thing. He just would not leave home without it.

That green thing was stuck in his mouth wherever he went. Sylvie pulled it from him and gave him some of her best soccer moves. He loved it and even tried to imitate her, shoving the ball with his feet in some pretty clever moves himself.

Then, he picked up the ball in his mouth and threw it at her. Swear to god, he did. Sylvie laughed and hugged his big head to her chest, looking up she begged, "Please, Aunt Asia, can he stay? Please! I'll wash dishes the whole time I'm here. Promise!"

"Oh, Sylvie," answered her aunt, sympathetically, "of course he can stay. You don't have to do all the dishes. Just feed the dogs in the morning before you go out to clean the barn and feed the livestock and Fuzzy. I'll talk to your father for you about keeping Junior."

Sylvie jumped up and kissed her aunt on the cheek, "Thanks, Auntie. You're the best! I love you." Asia teared up from her niece's change of heart and smiled at her.

"Well, that's good!" said Frankie. "I'll leave the big galoot here, then. I'll be in touch to see how you do with him. He's a pretty good dog. I'll see you at the Rib Shack tomorrow night. I won't be home when you clean my barn in the morning. I have to go to the Agricultural store for feed. I'll drop some off here for Thelma and Louise. Junior especially likes those nanny goats, by the way. He was raised with them. It is a good match - you, the two goats and that big puppy."

"Your father will love raising a full-size St. Bernard," laughed Asia.

Major Day bounced Junior's tennis ball off a corner of the kitchen wall and watched the young dog chase it with amusement. "Oh," she said. "Before you go, Frankie, I think you will want to hear this. I just got off the phone with Sheila Rodriguez. She said that Officer Thomas was just suspended from the Silver Lake Police Department with pay."

Frankie exploded and caused Junior to startle and bark sharply as Zucchini stood up, startled as well. "That guy pulls a gun on his own son in another Officer's house, uninvited to begin with, and they give him a paid vacation!?"

"I told you that the Chief of Police, Buzz Ackerman, is a personal friend of his," commented Asia, dourly.

"Then Ackerman needs to leave his office. It's a good time for Sheila to run for Chief. She could use his friendship with Officer Thomas against him. We can't be the only citizens who find Thomas questionable," said Frankie. "I really have to go. I'm going to keep that creep in my sights when I patrol around town at night."

"Be careful, please," said Asia.

"I will be. Junior is a sweetie, Sylvie, but I wouldn't want to cross him. Take him with you. He will protect you. You can leave him tied to the donkey cart or whatever when you come to work at the Shack. You know younger dogs learn from older ones and Zucchini is an extensively trained dog. You know she saved Asia's life last summer. See you tomorrow night."

Sylvie gave Frankie a hug and the elderly woman left as she cracked, "See if Carlton Thomas is such a smart ass if he meets my .45 and dogs after midnight!"

Sylvie waved at her retreating back, looking worried. She turned to her aunt and asked, "What is this patrol thing Frankie was talking about?"

Asia answered, "Frankie wanders around at night in the very early hours with about nine dogs, her new cell phone and a large .45 caliber revolver making sure everything looks and sounds peaceful. She's been doing that for years. That's what she calls her patrol."

Major Day commented, "That's not exactly legal."

"The police department knows about it. In fact, she's a deputy, has a badge and a gun license. Guess they figure they can use the help. She helped Zucchini save Asia's life even though she really needs to practice her aim and tends to be a lousy shot--don't tell her I told you that, though."

"Never," said the Major.

Sylvie slipped out the back door with Junior, heading towards the barn. Time for her to seek the solace of the donkey, Chihuahua and goats. She was obviously still worried about what Officer Thomas might do and wished she had a taser or gun for herself. She got on her cell phone and called Bert, maybe he had a weapon she could carry.

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# Chapter Four

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LOUD, ANGRY BANGING came from inside the almost empty house of Carlton Thomas. The emptiness made his shouting echo even louder. Thomas was raging inside himself and ranting loudly about his suspension. He was an obsessive-compulsive cleaner and minimalist.

He had only the objects he truly needed. There were three padded, matching chairs and a couch in the living room, no rugs, one coffee table, a couple of lamps and a desk.

His kitchen was orderly to the max and polished clean. All three bedroom doors were closed. There was a room for Bert, which was the only slightly messy room in the house which Carlton vowed to ransack, examine and neaten to his own tastes.

His own room boasted only a minimum of neatly folded and hung clothing, a gun locker, double bed and custom window bars. The door to the basement was padlocked and chained. There was nothing at all in the back and front yards--the grass and shrubbery were neatly trimmed. Only Carlton's vehicles, welding equipment and tools were in the clean and orderly garage.

Carlton owned no pets. He despised animals and saw them as potentially diseased inferiors and filthy, stupid objects with very low intelligence. He had been like this since he was a very young boy. He had no siblings and his mother and father had passed on a decade ago which was all fine by him, he did not need or want family, Bert was an accident.

He took out an automatic rifle and .45 from his gun locker and sat at his kitchen table meticulously cleaning both of them. All his guns and miscellaneous weaponry were in immaculate condition and perfect working order. Besides his guns, Carlton Thomas had a couple of large hunting knives and a vicious-looking crossbow with a dozen deadly steel-tipped arrows.

Bert did not usually like hunting or target practice (despite being a better marksman - with a pistol - than his father). As far as Carlton was concerned his son disgustingly took after his "hippie chick" of a mother, which was a major reason why he and Bert's mom were not together.

Thinking about that, Carlton Thomas packed some of his favorite weapons (which included the crossbow and one of the hunting knives) and walked into the woods behind his house, looking for the practice range he had set up when he and Bert had moved in.

He found the open field where his hay-filled canvas target was set up and he opened fire with his automatic rifle. As he switched over to his crossbow, he was pretty sure he saw some movement in front of him. He called out and told the person to stay away from his shooting area. The shooting range was also not on his landlord's land, so he was defensive about being there. He let go an arrow. A bulls eye! Then, he was pretty sure he saw the person - or whatever it was - move closer to his target range. Holding his crossbow in the ready position, with a burst of angry energy he gave chase.

__________

Sylvie ran until she was out of breath. Junior was up ahead trampling deeper into the woods. She had been sneaking up on Officer Thomas's house to check up on him, pretty much to spy on him, when she and Junior came upon a shooting range and heard the thud of a bullet hitting a makeshift target covering a couple of hay bales. She was appalled to see that the shot had come from Officer Thomas who was hooking up a steel-tipped arrow to a large crossbow and seemed to look up directly at her. She muffled a scream and ran - Junior rushing away ahead of her and going in the direction of Frankie Franklin's house. She was doing her best to keep up with him. She could hear someone (presumably Carlton Thomas) close behind her. She dove into some thick brush and flattened herself. Junior ran over, lay down next to her and growled.

Carl walked right past them. Sylvie was screaming in her head. The cop turned around and left without discovering their hiding place. Sylvie could hear him yelling in frustration and hitting at the underbrush with a machete.

Her legs and elbows were scraped from ducking into the bushes, but she didn't care. She ran all the way back to Frankie's barn, diving into an open stall.

It was the weekend, so Frankie was not there. She was at the Rib Shack, getting ready for the rush this evening. Sylvie looked at the entrance to the barn. She was sure no one had followed her. Junior lay quietly huddled at her feet. She had gotten away safely.

__________

The Silver Lake Chief of Police, Buzzy Ackerman, paid an informal visit to Carlton Thomas that same afternoon. Carl saw him at his front door, opened it with gusto and gave the Chief a big bear hug with the words, "Come on in Buzzy! I have the coffee brewing. Rest your bones over here and we can talk."

"Yeah, Carl. I have a lot to talk to you about and I can use that coffee. It's been a rough couple of days ... the beginning of the summer tourist season, you know."

The Chief paused. "By the way," he said. "How is that boy of yours doing?"

Carlton Thomas's face clouded over darkly. He frowned and looked angry as the blazes. "Ah, teenagers!" he commented miserably. "Bert is hanging on to his new friends. Especially that little slut, Sylvie Reynolds. I tell you that girl is no good. And no good for him. She'll lead him deeper into the lazy garbage the Almontes set him up with. I don't like her hanging around my son."

The Chief responded defensively, "The Almontes are one of the finest families in Silver Lake. Your son can't go wrong with them. Why I've even heard Bert is applying to the Air force Academy after his probation is over."

"Over my dead body! I won't let him go! I need him at home. He has no right to decide on that by himself!" Carlton exploded and started pacing the room.

"Ah, Carlton. He is over eighteen. He has every right to try and gain admission to the Academy. That is a free college education. The department knows his high school grades were excellent. He has a very good chance of being accepted. Patrolman Chico Almonte is also going to give a written recommendation provided Bert completes probation successfully.

"He has every chance of doing that. You should be proud of him. If he gets into the Academy, he will make the local news."

"He doesn't need college. What for? He can become a cop like me and stay at home. I'm not proud of his sissy books and that new paint set the Almontes forced on him. He paints like a girl. Chico doesn't need to do things like that. He is my son. He should keep his hands off my kid."

Buzzy answered with, "I've heard he is very talented."

"Whose side are you on anyway? Boys don't paint. As good as he is with a gun - he hates guns. What gives with you, Buzzy? I thought you were on my side. We go all the way back to Kansas City High School. Don't you remember? You said you'd always get my back - no matter what."

"Oh, hey now, Carlton. Of course, all of that is true. But you have to do your part, too. The whole town is talking about replacing me as Chief. I might lose my job over you."

Carlton scoffed, "What do they know?"

"They're the voters, Carl. They decide who runs the department."

Carlton pounded the coffee table and rattled their cups, spilling some of the coffee.

Buzzy looked at him and said, concerned, "By the way, Carlton, you need to move your practice range to your back yard or sign up to use the range in town. That land you set up your range on belongs to a local farmer. I can't let you do that, understand?"

"You've really gotten soft since I last saw you," commented Carl, derisively.

Chief Ackerman stiffened with resentment, "Carlton you need to have some respect for my office. It is my job to straighten these things out before my Officers have to drag you away on a criminal trespass charge again. The next suspension might not be so amicable. They can force me to let you go without a recommendation. Or even put you in jail."

"No, you have some respect for my rights! No one but me was anywhere near that range. That sad sack dirt farmer isn't using the area. There aren't any signs there."

"Still..." began Buzzy.

"Still, nothing shit."

"You'll get arrested. There is a movement around town to have you removed from the department."

"That's bull."

"It's not, Carlton. They mean business. You were lucky I was here. The next reprimand might not be so gentle." The Chief looked up and squinted at Carlton. They both heard what sounded like a muffled scream, perhaps coming from outside. The Chief withdrew his service revolver from its holster and stood up.

Thomas put his hand on Buzzy's shoulder and said in a quiet voice, "It's nothing. It's probably my cat, She's in heat."

Ackerman relaxed and laughed. "I didn't know you liked cats. You should get her fixed. Okay Carl, think about what I said. I need to get back to my desk at the station. I'll check in with you later. And please..." The Chief looked at Carl intently. "Try and stay out of trouble."

"Of course!" replied Officer Thomas, avoiding his Chief's eyes. "No more problems with me!"

"Good," said the Chief, wishing he felt more confidence in his old friend's words. He could sense (with foreboding) the insincerity in Carlton's words.

__________

"I truly don't believe that new Patrolman Carlton Thomas," lisped an expensively coutured, buxom, two-toned bottle blonde woman through her fire engine red lipstick. She was Alphonsine LaDuque, a new news woman at WATR radio in East Cape Girardeau.

She was "new" in the sense that she had been recently let go (fired) from her position as an on-camera news anchor at the KANU cable station for jeopardizing the lives of a camera crew during a flood last summer. She was, at the time she got into trouble, in a hot and heavy competition to keep Elise Jamison (nee Snuggles) off camera and out of the newsroom as much as possible. It was basically feline jealousy in terms of Alphonsine, and pure hatred in terms of Elise. Eventually, the rather intrusive and domineering manipulations of Alphonsine mashed every toe she could find underfoot around the cable station, until the Board of KANU was pretty much forced to terminate her. The flood incident, which involved taking a camera crew up in a hot air balloon in the middle of a thunderstorm, was just the last straw.

Now Alphonsine was whining over a justifiable slew of parking tickets Patrolman Carlton Thomas had issued to her (infuriatingly ignoring her over-played feminine charms) because of her habit of double parking when she thought she could get a hot bit of news and lay it out on the radio--scooping KANU before they got wind of it.

She clicked her six inch stiletto heels around the station like castanets accompanying a fast and furious Flamenco dancer in a Spanish night club. The more upset she was, the faster her heels rang out around the broadcasting area. Many of her co-workers wished she would get hush puppies for Christmas and wear them to work.

"I just don't think he's going to last very long..." she went on in her thick Alabama accent.

"Try parking in designated areas," was the weak response from a fellow office worker. "You know, Alphonsine, that is what yellow and white lines are for." Knowing darn well that Ms. LaDuque was infamous for snatching everyone else's assigned parking spaces at WATR at her own convenience. She exempted the Managers of the station--although it remained a temptation and the thought bothered her mind from time-to-time. She had even dreamed about parking in the managerial spaces. But after her ignominious firing from KANU after a rescue team had to fish her out of the Mississippi butt first on camera, she had decided not to try and tempt the powers that be with her new lipstick over their authority (in terms of snatching administration's assigned parking spaces). No tempting fate this time. Wisely, too.

But Carlton Thomas seemed to follow her news vehicle around town. He seemed to intuit that he could get some easy on-duty suck-up points by issuing as many parking tickets to her as possible when she was heading the news team driving around town. And it was possible to issue very many. It angered her, but she was no match for the new cop. So, she paid her parking tickets once a month as a matter of course along with her electric and gas bills. The station felt it was her responsibility and refused to pay her tickets. I mean, how was she supposed to get her hair done on time without parking anywhere she could?!

The whole thing made her paranoid that the police department was out to get her. She even saw Sgt. Sheila Rodriguez writing her a ticket this month on her motorcycle beat off Silver Lake Boulevard. The nerve! What had she ever done to her? Did the "Press" sign on her dashboard mean nothing? So, what if she used it on her private vehicle when she went shopping? Apparently parking rule exceptions only pertained to explicit exceptions made by the Silver Lake Police Department during certain emergencies and that was usually done for filming crews. Or by prior arrangement with the SLPD for some important interview. Prior arrangements which did not include clothes shopping or hairdressers. Alphonsine just could not wrap her head around that. I mean did Silver Lake actually want ugly newscasters? So, what if she was on the radio and no one could see her?

Alphonsine went out to lunch in a huff of internal indignation. She really missed filching pizza from Elise. She had to buy all her own pizza now. Life changes like that were not among her personal strengths. It did not put her on her personal best. I mean after all; she had almost been Miss Alabama. And almost to these hicks was the same as used to be, she rationalized.

__________

As complaints about Carlton Thomas mounted one on top of the other on Buzzy Ackerman's desk, he rubbed his forehead in frustration. He could not afford to sweep Patrolman Thomas's actions under the rug anymore. To top his day off, Tobias Smart and Michael Diamond, owners of one of the largest businesses in town, Smart and Diamond's California Spa and Laundromat, walked into his office with doom written all over their faces.

Smart sat down and made himself right at home, while Mike Diamond remained standing, not a crease out of place in his khaki linen pants which matched his khaki suede shoes. He also, Buzzy noted, had a perfectly matched khaki silk shirt, tie and linen jacket.

Both men wore identical gold bands with small diamonds set down the center of the band in a row. Michael wore two matching diamond studs in his ear lobes. Tobias Smart was a west coast billionaire - a financier who had decided to make Silver Lake his headquarters. The Spa was part of a chain of similar enterprises across the country.

"Yes, gentlemen?" inquired the Chief.

Tobias Smart shifted his huge (but elegant) bulk uncomfortably in the office chair he sat in. He was pretty close to 300 lbs. Michael Diamond, his local Spa manager and life partner, cleared his throat and looked piercingly at the Chief. "Sir," he began. "Several issues have come to our attention involving one of your new Officers, Patrolman Carlton Thomas.

We decided to make you aware of our situation (rather than writing up a formal complaint to the town officials - or going to the media) to give you a chance to rectify things. We are both aware that you have a good reputation around town. So, we felt that this avenue was only fair and possibly safer for the two of us. We would prefer to do this quietly, at least for now."

The Chief looked up from his paperwork with a frown and clasped his hands in front of his mouth, leaning forward onto his elbows. He spoke to the two men in a subdued tone of voice, "As you probably know, I have suspended Officer Thomas recently. I took some time this morning to speak to him. I think he understands that he needs to restrain himself a little more. Not taking so much into his own hands, so to speak."

Tobias Smart spoke up in a complaining tone. He was not a man accustomed to be taken lightly. "Yeah, Chief Ackerman, you have no idea what Patrolman Thomas has been doing to us behind your back! As you know, we are two of the wealthiest investors in this town. We have been told repeatedly that Officer Thomas wants to bring us to court for zoning violations. At the same time, he usually gives me and my partner here the once over with a sort of lecherous eye, which we take offense to. If this harassment continues, my lawyers will be the ones in here speaking to you. You have always been protective of the rights of Silver Lake's people, so Michael and I felt we should at least give you a chance to try and deal with this yourself."

The Chief rubbed his face tiredly and responded, "I am so very sorry that Officer Thomas has been harassing you and your partner. We, in Silver Lake, appreciate your business and love of our town. I am sure if there were any real zoning problems, the Town Office would have seen them in your architectural plans and notified you before you even started building. I will speak to the Officer. Are you sure he has problems with your homosexuality?"

Both men indicted in the affirmative.

"Well, that is serious. Thank you for coming to me directly. I appreciate your discretion. I will let Officer Thomas know that he is to desist this behavior. Your lawyers will not be necessary."

Tobias rose, pulling himself up regally and with dignity. All the men shook hands before Smart and Diamond left. Chief Ackerman groaned when he was alone again. He rubbed his forehead with both hands.

__________

Sylvie Reynolds really didn't feel like working at Franklin's Rib Shack that evening after her close call with Carlton Thomas. She called Bert and spoke to him about her fears and told him she would bring her new dog over in the donkey cart the next day to visit. Bert was enthused about meeting Junior. He soothed her feelings a little. Frankie gave her the rest of the weekend off from the Rib Shack as long as she promised to clean her farm and feed the livestock. Sylvie agreed. Frankie's barn was one of her comfort zones.

Frankie said, "Nobody likes Carlton Thomas. Mark my words, he'll probably wind up in jail or a mental institution. His job is to help people, not chase them down when they are innocent."

Even Elise Jamison was flooded with complaints at KANU. She decided to do a late night news cast on the issue of the new cop on her Mississippi River Journal program. She decided to be up-front, even though she knew her piece on Officer Thomas might make the issue more explosive. She decided that exposing the situation in question to the entire town was a good idea in order to gain support and awareness that those who were being harassed by the cop were not alone. That was what news casting was for. She decided not to add Alphonsine LaDuque's parking ticket complaint due to the fact that Alphonsine's extremist temperament was well-known, not only to her, personally, but to most WATR radio and KANU station personnel as well. That was probably, Elise rationalized, the one legitimate thing Officer Thomas had done. In her mind, it came under the heading - Two-Evil-People-Butting-Heads.

Even poor Harry Skylar (aka Harry the Hippie) barely avoided getting arrested for his street music, despite his town busking license. Officer Thomas evilly kicked Harry's tip cup over with his boot (recorded by a passer's-by cell phone camera) and yelled at him to move, saying that, "He was creating a nuisance." To which no one in his admiring audience would agree, which infuriated the Officer even more. Luckily for Harry, Thomas threw his hands in the air due to lack of consent in Harry's audience, and walked away.

Harry changed his busking "spot" so that he was no longer on Officer Thomas's regular beat. He made less money, but this mild musician with the well-liked sanguine personality was just plain happy to rid himself of the antagonism of the out-of-control cop.

Joe Doe, a well-known elderly panhandler, made sure he didn't go out on the streets until Officer Thomas was at the end of his shift. That was a good time to beg anyway, everyone was coming home from work, so the streets were crowded. People tended to like this crazy, old guy, and fed and clothed him, giving him their extra money for his camping and life needs. In the winter, Silver Lake was obliged, due to a federal statute in the United States, to provide a local shelter when the temperature went below 30 degrees Fahrenheit.

Sometimes a kind, local farmer would lend Joe a cabin complete with a winter's worth of firewood (and the old panhandler could easily beg for more firewood anywhere in town, including inside the Mall). The townspeople gave him occasional rides into town and some snowplowing when he stayed in the cabin. There were regular meals at a soup kitchen, meals on wheels and the meals at the winter shelter.

Joe was known for his rather loud, boisterous, in-your-face opinions - so he, too, got on the anti-Officer Thomas bandwagon. Cops were not his favorite people. The only reason he was in Silver Lake was because he "wound up here" and also because their legal panhandling (with the local $2 license) had made its way around the national street scene in a very positive way.

Joe was pretty sure the Martians from last winter, who - he was convinced - had taken over the communications in Silver Lake, had left. Everyone in town was grateful for that. Joe, as a result of the vacating extra-planetary beings, was getting approximately a dollar per donor this summer. He thought that the Martians had curtailed his income during the winter. Not the weather.

He felt folks thought he had helped rid the town of Martians (although he knew he hadn't). Everyone, all good folks, knew panhandlers were good karma - and him, being a conduit of good luck, was justifiably being rewarded for his presence in this town with a plethora of dollar bills in the evening. Such was his thinking.

Joe and Harry the Hippie were good ol' pals. Harry took Joe to the food court at the Mall for lunch when he had had a good busking day (which was often now). Harry was getting famous and people adored his music--especially when he played and sang with his girlfriend, Sage.

He also sold his new CD, Skylar and Sommers: Rocky Mountain Music, on the street and that made him extra cash. Staying rent-free in Asia Reynolds' cabin and playing at Casablanca (a local, middle eastern vegan cafe) at night as a regular gig gave him and Sage some much needed savings. Harry was a generous soul. Soon he could afford his driver's license and a good used cargo van. Then, he could drive to Denver to visit Sage, his girlfriend, on school holidays.

__________

Elise mused over the huge number of emailed complaints KANU had received about Officer Thomas. She loaded them onto her I-Pad, went into the bathroom at the cable station, rolled a nice, fat joint - looking at her large engagement sapphire as she did so, and went out to her yellow Toyota Camry to smoke the thing and scroll through the emails on her lunch hour. It seemed as if one out of every ten residents had something against Carlton

Thomas, as well as one peculiar report of screaming coming from Carlton's house. Screaming? No one lived in Carlton's rental home except the suspended police officer right now. She sincerely doubted that his son had gone to visit him. The two did not get along.

Elise picked up a pizza and a cold six pack of coke, drove to the city park and pulled next to a curb under a large maple tree. While Elise smoked her reefer, she looked up Thomas's back story on her tablet. There was one reprimand after another, and he had been fired for abuse of power from his last position after his landlord had evicted him from his rental house for tearing up the back yard and leaving dirt instead of replanting grass or laying turf. He had also been one month behind on his rent.

Some of these reports were media records and some police records (Elise had a few pass codes given to her by Buzzy Ackerman). It seemed to her his old high school buddy might have been the only police administrator willing to hire Thomas in law enforcement. And he is on thin ice right now for doing just that. If Thomas's old records get into the media, it could spell the end of Chief Ackerman's career. Think I won't do that right now. Also, there is no need to enrage an already angry suspended cop, thought Elise as she finished her joint with one deep inhalation and a sigh of stymied regret. Someone, she thought, was screaming in that house. No need to get that psycho cop any angrier.

Elise shook her head and thought, No wonder he's so high up on it. He's still angry he lost his last job. It seems a challenge to him to keep this one, too. If he thought it through, you'd think he'd change. Some people just don't seem to get it. You just can't do both--you can't push people around and expect to keep a public service job. A job that people rely on to keep their loved ones safe.

Heavy thoughts for a pothead like Elise, but she meant it. She would try and break through to Carlton tonight on her Journal, but she would have to wear gloves doing it, so as not to disturb the beast. If that were possible, which it might not be. Maybe there was a way to make him conscious. Make him aware of what his contradictory actions really meant. She sort of thought he needed an intervention. Or anger management. She wondered if he was alcoholic. AA was also kind of good for mental problems.

She saw Sylvie trot past her parked car with Pumpkin and the pony cart followed on foot by Zucchini. She laughed. She would have sounded her car horn and waved, but she was afraid she would startle the donkey. Looked like Sylvie was going home to Asia's. She would love to know what Asia thought of all these discussions about Carlton Thomas and what they could do about it using the more subtle weapons of television or news casting--if there were any such thing. Group intervention sounded dangerous and would have to be forced on Thomas by the police department or court and that wasn't happening. Elise ate her pizza and drank a coke, driving back to her station still conflicted as to how to approach this touchy issue, let alone resolve it.

__________

Carlton Thomas had been in a bad mood since Buzzy Ackerman's visit to him that morning. He unlocked the door to his basement and went down the stairs. By the time he came back upstairs, he was in a much worse mood - a fury - which was not unusual for him after surveying the mess in his dirt-floored basement.

He washed his hands twice with the hottest water he could stand, and took a shower, carefully washing his hair twice as well. His basement door was chained and padlocked so that no one could let potential vermin upstairs by accidentally opening the door. He just could not understand why anyone would leave a basement unfinished like that when it could infest the entire house with rats or mice. He still could not stand to have pets, though. No cats.

Today was pay day. Anything making money for Carlton always gave his dour personality a small boost. He smiled to himself in the mirror as he finished shaving and splashed on some spicy after-shave. He examined his hair and decided he would need a trim soon. He dressed carefully, neatened his house and took out the trash.

He planned on spending the evening at the Silver Lake Casino. He liked a small amount of slot playing and was a moderately good poker player, as well. Counting cards, he usually doubled his salary and left before the Casino was any the wiser. Winning too much would put anyone under the watchful eyes of their security and counting cards was illegal. It would be at cross purposes for him to get thrown out.

If your card counting system was perceived, that's exactly what would happen, if not more. He always played his winnings safely under the house limit. And all casinos had a house limit for consistent winnings. He was too smart to put his money-making in jeopardy. He prided himself on being able to out-smart any system. After all, it was a free country, wasn't it?

__________

The Silver Lake High Rollers Casino that night was filled with subtle blue lighting. The only real lights were over the gaming tables. Carlton Thomas usually took his time casing potential players by playing a few slot games where he had a clear view of the poker tables. He firmly believed one should play the players--not just the cards. He wanted a moderate betting game. His salary was not all that much in his opinion, plus moderate games attracted folks who did not play poker all that well. He looked intently at the Texas Hold 'Em gamers and spotted a few slow, unsure-looking players. Those players looked like his people.

Too bad Bert was not there to help set the other players up. It was so much easier to pull poker stunts with a partner. One could play dumb, the other slick. But Bert never liked cheating anyone. Too bad, he was actually rather good at setting up a slow player.

Carlton generally gave Bert a portion of their winnings to get anything he wanted. To Carlton's everlasting disappointment it was usually a book. Now that that idiot Chico Almonte got him into finger paints or whatever that foolishness was, his son would probably buy sissy art supplies. It was better, then, that Bert wasn't there.

Carlton had dressed well. He wore a red satin vest and a black shirt with Ace of Spades cuff links, a rhinestone stickpin in a red satin tie and an imitation Armani black suit coat that fit well. He wore his good luck red suspenders with a classic gray pin-striped pair of dress pants. Sharp clothes made him flex his game-playing muscles. He won a small amount at slots and turned it all into poker chips adding something from his paycheck.

All in all, he had bought $3,000 in chips. That was enough to pressure a poor player and he did not mind folding early. Folding was always a good bluff and he had no mercy or respect for even a talented player or card counter that was weak on folding. Rarely did he play all in. He would rather keep chips in his pockets and cash them in later than do that. And rat holing chips is a no-no in Texas Hold 'Em. The dealer could always ask to see your cards but could not prove that you knew what other people had. He rarely hid chips anyway because he knew when to fold. And that was the clincher.

He felt like the devil tonight as he pulled the handle of his slot machine. He felt like no one could beat him. He had heard about the late night special on the news airing local complaints about him. He could care less. He was all about money tonight. He fully expected to win his match in chips--another $3,000. No pocketing anything tonight. He needed to bide his time and spring at the weakest point in another player's game. Soon a place opened up at just the right table. Three weak players with a lot of money to throw at the game.

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# Chapter Five

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CARLTON THOMAS PLAYED poker for blood or money, much to the surprise of the other three tourists at his table who were seemingly only out for a good time. While he carefully watched their cards, they discussed their kids, what amusements in Silver Lake they wanted to buy tickets for and the restaurants they were going to after the Casino. And it wasn't Burger King or MacDonald's.

For all the drivel they talked about, they had a large amount of cash to drop on the poker table. No matter how much Carlton won (and he won a lot), they still smiled at him and would slap him on the back when he cleaned up, not feeling pinched in the least because of their losses.

Just when Carlton felt he had almost won the evening - just a few more games to go - a single tourist-type, mousy, little female player across from him decided that she was hungry. Carlton tried to joke her into staying for another hour or so, until he had won his limit. Charming ladies and joking were not his strong suits ... she left.

This player was replaced by a sharply dressed guy who took half an hour to take his sunglasses off. Needless to say, Carlton took an instant dislike to him. On top of it, the new guy could play, and Carlton had a hard time making his last $500. He could feel the heat rise in his chest. Every time he would fold, the new guy would jump him and fold right after him - leaving his neatest trick empty with this "Simon Says..." move.

The other two players (a dumb tourist couple) were starting to make money off their moves. Not what Carlton had planned. He let the new guy, named Jack Something, know that he was getting frustrated with his copycat moves. Jack only laughed. It seemed as though he was laughing at him. Then he stopped folding and (probably, according to Carlton) started viciously and quickly counting cards, faster than he had done before. So, Carlton did, too. why not? Bad thought. Their game was starting to attract casino security. Almost time to leave. Well, shit, he was not into that quite yet, and felt angry being pressured to end his game.

Then Jack had a string of kickers (four of a kind, three of a kind, a pair, or high cards) that were always the highest of all four hands (which means you win). He got two straights (five consecutive cards all in one suit) and killed everyone's hands, which was just too close to be real. Carlton finally caught up with Jack and nailed everyone with a Royal Flush (basically an Ace high straight, King, Queen,

Jack, ten in one suit - i.e. all in Spades or Diamonds, etc. - which trumps everything). Jack couldn't fold in time to protect himself. This, finally, made Carlton laugh. Only $100 to go to double his initial investment in chips. He smiled. It was Jack's turn to get grim and red-faced.

One thing - Carlton never left home without his nine millimeter. One never knew. But he looked at Jack and he knew. Then, he spied that b**** from the cable station with her boyfriend or husband or whoever he was to her. Damn it! She must have taped her news program earlier. He looked at the wall clock, it was midnight. Jack was getting more and more aggressive with his wins. He caught Elise Jamison staring directly at him from a roulette table. Their eyes met. It was not a friendly meeting.

"Why do I keep feeling like that sucker Carlton Thomas needs to be locked up?" said Elise to Elton when she dropped her eyes after spotting Carlton.

"Woman's intuition," answered her husband just as he hit his third winning number on the roulette wheel. Elise gave a victory yell and forgot all about the searing look.

Carlton had barely made his last dollar in winnings and was itching to leave. Looking at Jack, he said, "Well, I've gotten close enough to the house limit. Want to drive with me to a nice, little casino in Missouri where we can double what we made here? I don't need a tap on the shoulder. I am ready to go. How about you?"

Jack grinned and replied, "As a team that won't take long. I'll leave my car here, if you'll bring me back after we finish."

Carlton covered his mouth with his hand and shoved a piece of gum between his lips. He answered sharply, chewing the gum in a kind of rude way, "Sure, buddy. I'll do that. Come on...let's get out of here."

Elton Jamison tapped his wife, Elise, on the shoulder and pointed at the two men walking out the casino door.

As Jack got into Carlton's red, vintage MG, he laughed with the excitement of possibly making more money and complimented him on his car. Carlton smirked grimly and acknowledged the praise. He drove right to the old, closed sand mine. Jack looked confused at the rural setting. Carlton pointed his gun at Jack and ordered him out of the car. Jack's confusion turned to fear, but he did what Carlton asked.

Carlton got out and shot Jack in the head and chest immediately, saying, "No one takes my money at cards the way you did. No one. You cheat!" As soon as Jack fell dead, he searched Jack's pockets and took all of his money and what looked like a diamond pinky ring. Then, he dragged his limp body to the mine. There was a large sinkhole filled with quicksand next to the open mine. Carlton threw Jack's body and his 9 millimeter in it. The dead man sunk into the downward pulling current of water and sand within sixty seconds. Carlton brushed himself off, returning to his car. He smiled.

He switched the radio on and drove to his home. He took a long, hot shower right away and threw his clothes in the trash. He went to the kitchen and made himself a cup of coffee while he counted that evening's winnings, plus what he had stolen from that guy, Jack.

He had tripled his initial $3,000 investment in chips and had come home with $9,000! Pretty damn awesome! He was smugly satisfied that Jack was going to stay hidden from sight down at the endless bottom of that sinkhole. He was the King and that dead guy that had tried to take him, and his money was just a dead Jack. He was trump and it was going to stay that way.

He drove out to an all-night take out and bought himself two hamburgers, fries and another coffee. He was celebrating. He had committed the perfect murder. Revenge against someone who had thought he was so superior to him. The look of surprise on Jack's face as he shot him made Carlton feel a deep satisfaction despite all the criticism from the police department.

__________

The next day Elise Jamison went to visit Sgt. Sheila Rodriguez at home at the Almonte Ranch after their workday. She told Sheila about Carlton's card game and the guy who had won some of his money. Bert walked into the kitchen, obviously having overheard them. He looked startled and wide-eyed as he asked, "Did dad start a fight?" Both women looked up at the boy.

"No, not there," answered Elise. "It seems as though they actually became friends. They walked out of the casino together."

Bert shook his head in disbelief. He commented, "Doesn't sound like my dad. He would never let anyone win consistently against him. He is very hot-headed. Are you sure there was no fight?"

"Positive," said Elise. "They were smiling at each other"

Bert continued to shake his head. "Dad is a rattlesnake. Unless they agreed to become partners and cheat at another casino, that doesn't sound believable."

"There isn't any casino between here and St. Louis," said Sheila, interested in the idea that Officer Thomas was a card cheat.

"I told Elton that there is just too much wrong with Carlton Thomas to let him walk around anywhere he pleases freely."

Bert agreed vehemently and said cryptically, "If you only knew...I think my dad is a real psycho. I am so grateful to live here now. I don't even have to go back there ever again. Except, maybe, later, when my probation is over, to get a few things I really want. Some books, posters. It wouldn't take long. Dad wouldn't let me have all that much when I lived with him. Nothing like here, where the Almontes and Sheila seem to really care about me."

Sgt. Rodriguez broke in, "Anything you want, Bert. We will protect you. That is why we are here. That's what cops are all about. Your father can't hurt you anymore. You just stay with us. You are safe here. Your father is on probation at the police department. We are watching his every move."

Tears were running down Bert's face. He couldn't control himself anymore. His shoulders were shaking, and sobs started to come out loudly. He turned and ran upstairs.

Sheila turned to Elise and said, "He'll be okay. We know his dad is hiding a lot of wrongdoing. At least Bertram is not alone in this anymore. I suspect, along with a few other cops, that that young boy grew up in a 'Little House of Horrors'. We just don't have the complete story quite yet. But we will. We will."

A tremor of fear went through Elise. She said, "All I know, Sheila, is that that guy in an SLPD uniform gives me the creeps."

"Elise, we are a group of social scientists, as well as peacekeepers. We need to know substantiated facts, not just feelings based on intuition, opinion or guesswork. You can use that as a lead for your profession. But we need more. Just like you would, to substantiate any story."

Asia Reynolds had walked in on the last part of Sheila and Elise's conversation and agreed whole heartedly with Elise, having seen Sylvie's reaction to Officer Thomas's treatment of his son.

She said, "I think Carlton Thomas has a fearsome hold on his son. Bertram wouldn't dare do anything against him for fear of reprisal. Sylvie thinks so too. There is much more there than meets the eye. Kids can hold a lot of stuff inside when they have to."

Elise nodded, but said, "Speaking of not speaking from factual knowledge, how would you know, Asia? You don't have any kids of your own."

Asia answered, "Neither do you."

"Shit, yeah ah sure do - I got two in the oven. I feel them every day. Cain't get any closer. We communicate just fine."

"One day they'll get a little bigger. I remember myself as a teenager ... and there's Sylvie."

"Turning a corner with her?"

"Don't we all? - Turn corners, I mean," retorted Asia.

"Yeah, sis, all the time! My babies love you already. When I turn a corner, we all turn together. This pregnancy is really a group endeavor. Add Elton to it, we are having a family, not just two babies."

Apropos of nothing, Asia commented on their wandering conversation, "How do you know if your babies love me?"

"All my significant others always love you. You lift me up."

"Like your bees."

"They're nice bees."

"Yeah, Mrs. Snuggles-Jamison," commented Asia, warmly.

"Yeah, I do ... Snuggle Mr. Jamison. Say, how much does - did Carlton Thomas miss by not caring about a beautiful boy like Bertram?"

"Sylvie's best?" quipped Asia, with a smile.

"Know anyone else with that name? She find love there?" Elise probed.

"They're just friends right now, but good friends."

"Friends with a future?"

"You might say that. She wants to learn how to fly, "said Asia, with pride in her voice.

"Don't we all?"

"She really means it. Bertram is leaving for the Air Force Academy as soon as he is accepted after his probation is over. Probation was a protective move for him. He was not charged with a felony. His record can be expunged."

"He's leaving without his soul mate?" asked Elise, with a sense of romantic wonder in her voice.

"Sylvie and Bert agreed that high school is important. Sylvie said she'll write, call and Skype. She'll be joining the Air Force after she graduates--with her dad's permission. She might even go to the Academy as well."

"Sounds very mature."

"Happens quickly. She turned an amazing corner."

"She is just like you said your Pop said she was, a fine critter," joked Elise.

"She started out as just a critter but put a layer of understanding on it and she does look fine."

"Now all we have to do is lock Bertram's dad up," commented Elise, with conviction in her voice.

Sheila broke into the conversation. "What's all this talk about locking someone up?"

"I just have an anti-Carlton Thomas thing," answered Elise, still saucy about her opinion of the Officer.

"Better get an evidence thing," Sheila shot back at her.

Asia commented, "We might just be able to do that."

"I, as you know, support Asia's feelings that there is more to this story and I am a professional mouth," said Elise, smartly.

"I don't think your intuitions are unfounded but get me some foundations for those feelings and I'll get the clean cops on it in a minute," answered Sheila.

"Yeah!" said Elise. "We'll do it! Carlton Thomas has three mean, professional bit***s on his dirty little ass."

Sheila bent over and took her knee-high, spit-shined motorcycle boots off, tiredly. She went upstairs to shower and change out of her uniform. Asia turned to Elise and said, "It won't be that hard to find something on Carlton Thomas. I am a professional researcher and I know it won't be difficult."

"I think you are right," answered Elise.

"You're both wrong," said a voice from the hallway. It was Bertram Thomas. Both women were stunned into silence. "You two have no idea of what you are up against. My dad is smarter than you think he is. He has people who believe in him all over the place. I've tried to do what I think you are planning to do, and good people like Buzzy Ackerman, always step forward and defend him. Whether they know what they are talking about or not - it doesn't seem to matter. He has done so many things. Hurt so many people, including me. But he always covers his back."

Bert turned to Elise. "You should see our house. Outside of my room, there is practically nothing in it. Not much furniture, no books, CDS, magazines. Nothing. My dad could have the entire house wiped clean in fifteen minutes. He could pack the entire contents of the house into one medium-sized U-Haul truck. There would be no evidence that anyone else was there. No prints, nothing. He plans everything that way. I told you he is a psychopath. One day there will be proof, though. But not now."

Asia nodded with understanding. "You are still too close," she said to Bert.

Bert swallowed hard. Sylvie walked into the Almonte kitchen. Bert grabbed her arm, smiled at Asia and Elise and said, "Good luck trying to find your evidence. Be careful. Be very careful. My dad goes back to work next week. He shouldn't. But, like I said, he's always got some good 'ol boy to watch his back and support what they shouldn't be supporting." Bert put his arm around Sylvie's shoulders and said quietly, "Let's go outside, Sylvie, I need to talk to you. Alone."

The two teenagers walked out towards the pasture that held Niño and Chica, the two Almonte riding horses. Sylvie took a deep breath as she gazed at the beautiful black stallion and chestnut bay mare. The rich scent of the horses filled her troubled mind with peace. Junior ran into the paddock and carefully sidled between the two gentle horses, playfully avoiding their hooves. They nodded their heads at the big St. Bernard puppy and nudged him gently. Pumpkin was tied to the paddock fence and brayed loudly in a friendly and comical way. The little donkey sounded like an air horn. She awoke the sleeping Fuzzy Bud who was curled up on the pony cart blanket. He got up, barked a little, startled bark, stretched, scratched his side and lay back down inside the cart.

Bert laughed at the antics of the animals and struggled to smile after that heart-rending discussion. His father was not his favorite topic. Sylvie took his hand and squeezed it a little. She said, "Earth to Bert Thomas. You still with us?"

"Uh, yeah, Sylvie. What is it? I was just thinking I'll miss this place when I go to college at the Academy. I just needed to get a little air, right now. I hated that conversation."

"I need your help, Bert," said Sylvie suddenly, switching gears and taking comfort in the warmth of Bert's hand.

"Anything," answered Bert. "Just tell me."

"I need a gun."

"What?! What for, Sylvie?"

"I am afraid your dad saw me the other day when I was sneaking up on his house."

"Why did you do that?"

"I was curious about the reports of screaming coming from the house, and I did not know that your dad had a shooting range in a nearby field. That is how he saw me. Now I am afraid."

Sylvie looked at her feet, a little ashamed that she got caught and maybe got Bert in trouble too. All the more reason to pack a gun. She was sure Bert would get her one. He knew how to do things like that.

"Okay. But I will have to get it from my dad's house. I have to break probation to do it. I've done things like that before, so I have a few ways of getting in. The gun is in my room, so dad will not notice that it is gone, since he does not know I have one. I'll have to break into the house.

"Dad took my key away. That is no problem, as long as I do not get caught. I've had to do that before. He takes my key away all the time as a punishment. I have an extra, but it is also in my room. I'll do that for you. Okay? Not a problem."

Sylvie hugged Bert and said, "Oh, thank you. Be careful when you go in there. I will help, if you want me to."

"Yeah, you might have to." Bert looked down also and went on, "I want a life. A life without my dad. A new life where I'm not afraid anymore." Bert looked up at Sylvie. "Maybe a life with you."

Sylvie gazed into his hazel eyes and smiled deeply. She answered, "That could happen, Bert."

"Yeah. Sylvie?"

"Yeah, Bert. I've had boyfriends before, but I think we have a real future together. More than anyone else I ever knew. You are different. You think past high school."

"Wait until I've graduated from the Air Force Academy. You will just be starting school there when I finish, if you can gain admission. Then we'll have a better take on where we are both at."

"That is a long time from now."

"But that is how an adult would figure it. In a practical way."

"That makes sense. I am good in school. Math is usually one of my best grades."

"That will, like, way help."

"Sylvie?"

"Yeah, Bert?"

"In terms of getting my gun, we have to sneak in when my dad isn't there. Maybe go through a window. You can be the lookout. He starts work again in a couple of days. That will be the safest time, when he is walking his beat. I have a couple boxes of shells, too.

"He never found them or the gun. They're hidden inside a hole in my box spring. I'm good at hiding things. I've had to do that all my life. I thought one day my dad would go too far. Until then, I just had to lie low and take it. Now, I might be able to fight back and tell someone in power what I know about him. Chico and Sheila are on my side..."

"Not his...not your dad's..." added Sylvie, proud that her aunt's friends were such good people and were helping to protect and guide Bert. She sat down on a tree stump and looked up at Bert. "I love you, Bert. I'll kill your dad if I have to. He'll never beat me the way he beat you," she said with the strength of conviction in her voice.

"Just be quiet about this. He'll kill to keep his secrets. He is a very dangerous person."

"Not if we get him first."

"Don't get too aggressive. My dad is very tricky, and he has a lot to hide. He is a professional killer with a lot of modern weaponry in his arsenal."

Sylvie started to cry. Bert bent over her and pulled her up into his strong, muscular arms, saying, "Don't be afraid, Sylvie. I've been working out on my exercise equipment. I have waited a long time to get big enough and strong enough to take my dad on. I should have hidden that gun and the cartridges outside in case I needed them. But I wanted them close at hand in case my dad went too far - hitting me and so on. I am a witness. I know what dad has been doing. Everything. I know that he charms other good cops into breaking the law--and even forces some of them to do things that they should not do. He taunts folks into doing what he wants them to. You don't know the half of it. On top of it, he expects me to help him in his cover ups. There will come a day, though ..." Bert hesitated and repeated, "There will come a day..."

Bert held Sylvie tightly and put her head near his lips. He said quietly in her ear, "Don't cry. I have a feeling we are going to get dad this time. I have plans. I have a lot on him. No one else has to dig up any more evidence. I can give the cops enough to put him away forever."

Sylvie managed a smile at Bert's bravery. "So, what did he do?" she asked, frowning.

"I can't tell you that right now. Because I've known everything since I was about ten years old, dad will know when I rat on him. He could kill me. He will know it was me that turned him in. I don't want you involved, so I cannot tell you anything right now. It is some really heavy stuff. Only the cops should know. It might take a SWAT team to take him down. When the time is right, I will let them in on his dirty, little secrets."

"When will the time ever be right, Bert?! What does that mean?!" exclaimed Sylvie, a little impatient.

"When innocent people, including me, are assured of their safety."

"You make it sound like your dad is an army of one. He is only one man, Bert."

"He is an army, but I know how to get around him. You'll see. You'll be there when he comes down. You'll know about it. See, he has everything combat-ready: machine guns, small rocket launchers, grenades, small bombs and arms with plenty of ammunition. He won't go down easily."

"Jee - sus...!"

"I'm telling you. Let me get my gun. Just give me a hand. But you stay in a safe place while I do that."

"Sure, Bert. You can count on me."

"I think I really do love you, Sylvie Reynolds," said Bert softly and tenderly, kissing her gently as Elise Jamison looked on, eavesdropping gamely through a kitchen window.

"Well ... my, my, my ... hrmph!" commented Elise, laughing to herself and catching Asia's attention. "I think Bert and Sylvie are more than just friends. Lookie here, Asia!"

Asia was already looking at the pasture and the two young sweethearts through another window.

"I'm not surprised," she said. "I thought that might be coming."

"Coming it is. I think it is here, now." Elise laughed, chuckling to herself and holding her large belly. She felt her twins hug each other - or something like that.

Asia and Elise walked out the kitchen door just as Sylvie gave Bert a quick hug and got into the pony cart, waved at her aunt and yelled, "See you at home Aunt Asia! Race you there!" Punkin made some noise, Fuzzy stood up (all six inches of him), made an attempt at a bark and Junior led the way walking next to his new donkey pal. They made quite a picture. Asia pulled out of the Almonte drive in her Silverado and Elise waved as she left in her yellow Camry, after she actually did take a picture of Sylvie and her travelling menagerie with her I-phone to post on the Mississippi River Journal later that night, as a human interest piece.

Bert blew a kiss at Sylvie as she trotted past him. She shouted, "See 'ya, Bertie. I'll call.'

"Me, too, Sylvie. Love 'ya babe. Adios!"

"Bye! Later..."

__________

Sirens blaring, Mars lights flashing, five police cars pulled up to the old sand mine. Carlton Thomas was over there laughing hysterically, wearing a full black combat mask and outfit, and shooting a semi-automatic pistol into the air wildly, not aiming at anything.

"All right, Officer Thomas! Put the gun down!" shouted a night duty sergeant from the SLPD through an amplifier. "That's an order!"

"Why?!" screamed Thomas back at his Commanding Officer, not obviously respecting the CO's rank. "I'm not shooting at anyone. There is no one here but me! They told me not to use that empty field for target practice. So why not use the old, abandoned sand mine area?"

"Problem is, Officer. People do come over here and this is a public place. We had complaints about your shooting a gun off here. You are scaring people."

"So, I am disturbing the peace. Sorry, Sergeant. I will desist." With a raw laugh, Carlton holstered his pistol and took his balaclava off with a crooked smirk.

"No problem, Thomas. We think you need to stop scaring the after dinner crowd and go home." The sergeant walked over to the strangely dressed officer and said, "That's a neat weapon you have. Where'd you get it? Can I see it?"

Carlton laughed again and answered, "Sure!" handing this semi to the CO.

"Sweet!" said the sergeant handling the quick-shot weapon. "Can I shoot a few rounds? Uh, I just want to see how it handles."

"Of course," answered Carlton. He knew that officer would not bother to make him look bad after that request. He had him...

"How many rounds per second does this revolver shoot? Looks like a 9mm. Bet it's fast!"

"You betcha. It is a 9mm. This baby can shoot all the rounds in a 27 round clip continuously in about four seconds flat."

The Commanding Officer whistled and admired the gun as Carlton put it in his hand.

"My Chiappa Rhino revolver can shoot all six chambers in one second flat. That's a lot of killing power," commented Carlton Thomas through his clenched teeth, feeling the strength such weapons gave him.

"Too bad we can't use these things on duty. They're real beauties," said the sergeant.

Carlton smiled cynically at his CO. "No, this weaponry is only for civilian and military usage, maybe a SWAT team would use it. No ordinary cop carries an automatic weapon that I know of. Not in this town, anyway."

"Hmm..." mused the sergeant. "I won't write you up. I know you want to get back to work on Monday. Just don't use this area for a shooting range anymore. You might want to use a public shooting range from now on. Then I can safely tell you that we will cover for you. We were never here. The call was an empty one. No one was here when we got here."

"Sure," answered Carlton, putting his hand out for his gun. The sergeant shot a few quick rounds in succession at a trash can, admiring the flashy weapon and handing it back to the suspended officer.

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# Chapter Six

Monday, Bert stealthily slid the window in his bedroom open as quietly as possible. He had his work gloves on. Having a cop for a father made him evidence conscious. He had used an old milk crate borrowed from the alley behind the local grocery to climb on so he could throw his leg over the sill.

Sylvie was hiding in some bushes where she could see the driveway and the street in front of the house, as well as Bert's window. Both of them had their cell phones for signaling each other. As soon as Bert disappeared into his room, Sylvie let her breath out and started breathing normally. She rubbed the back of her neck.

When they knew Bert's dad was due to arrive back at the police station to work this morning, the two of them had started walking over to the house. Sylvie's palms were still sweating, and she trembled from fear from time to time. She wished that Bert would hurry it up.

Bert was appalled and shocked to see that his dad had obviously been in his room and gone through all of his things. Everything was back on a shelf, folded neatly in a drawer or hung in a closet, a sure sign that his obsessive-compulsive father had ransacked the room in his own weird way. All his laundry was had obviously been washed. Bert frowned at the bed, which was neatly made with clean sheets and tucked in tightly on all sides--not the way he had left it. He pretty much assumed his dad had not seen his hiding place. The hole in the box spring was deliberately cut in the middle of the mattress on the underside. It made him angry that he would have to remake the bed after he had retrieved the gun and cartridges.

He pulled the mattress to the side and lifted the box spring, propping it up against the wall. The slit he had cut and carefully covered back over with the same material looked undisturbed. He was pretty sure that it had not been touched.

Sylvie heard a car pull up and ducked down quickly into her cover, grabbing her cell phone and turning it on. Someone had exited a car and walked to the front of Bert's house, walking up to the front door. She could hear the man knock and ring the bell from where she sat. She held her breath and started to cry, calling Bert on her cell. He answered and said, "Lie low. I don't know who that could possibly be. I'm ducking down, myself. Don't worry. It could be anyone--from the electric company or anything. It's not my dad. It might be a friend of his, but a closer friend would know that dad went back to work today."

Sylvie answered with a tremulous, "O-Okay, Bert." She ducked lower into the bushes. The man who had gone to the front door surprised her by walking right past her hiding place to the back door. Good thing Bert had closed the window and drawn the shade to his room. She could not hear any sounds from the house.

The persistent visitor banged on the back door and yelled, "Mr. Thomas, it's your newspaper renewal! I will leave a notice."

Sylvie stifled a relieved chuckle. As soon as the persistent newspaper salesman had safely driven away, Sylvie called Bert on her cell again and gave him an 'all clear'. He slid his bedroom window open and climbed out onto the milk crate. He closed his window to where it had been before, picking up the crate and smoothing the soil over. Whispering to Sylvie, he said, "Come on! Hurry! Let's get out of here! I got everything. I got it, babe!"

Sylvie jumped out of the bushes, brushed herself off and grabbed Bert's hand with her own cold, clammy one. "Let's run," she said to him.

They ran a couple of blocks and started walking down alleys to stay hidden. Sylvie was a little out of breath. Bert put the milk crate down and let her rest on it a minute. He pulled the gun out and showed it to her. She smiled in spite of her anxiety, wiping perspiration from her forehead.

"You sure your dad won't know you've been in your room?"

"Yeah. I left it the way it was. I've actually had to sneak into my room many times before, so I know how to do it." Bert sounded angry. "He usually doesn't go in there, but he did recently. I could tell."

Sylvie looked up, alarmed.

"Don't worry. I think he was just snooping. He didn't find anything that I could see." He paused and pulled out an envelope. "I found this on the floor underneath the mail slot, which means dad hasn't seen it yet. Don't worry, I crawled on the floor to get there. I get mail from time to time, so I like getting to it before my dad has a chance to see anything. He has been known to shred and throw my mail away before I can read it. This is a letter from my mother."

Sylvie looked at him, surprised. She wasn't even aware that his mother was alive. He looked a little sad, then he gazed down at Sylvie, who was panting and out of breath, sitting on the milk crate, looking so small and fragile.

His chest filled with love for the spunky, young high school girl. He smiled at her again and said, "You see, I can think like a cop. But, a good one. Not like my dad. We'll nab him, Sylvie. You'll see."

Sylvie looked very worried and stood up, stretching, but still tired. "Let's go get some burgers. I'm famished," she said, suddenly, craving food. Bert pulled her close to him stuffing his mother's letter in a zipper pocket and zipping it securely.

"We should get married," said Bert with a twinkle in his eyes. Sylvie laughed and hugged him tighter.

She responded with, "It might be wise to follow our initial plan. First, my high school graduation and your entrance into the Air Force Academy--then maybe--if we still feel the same way about each other, we can marry, but later... Now our plans are too young and so am I."

"Sure," answered Bert, amiably. "We have all the time. My father's end is near. Nearer than he thinks. His day is coming soon," he continued, ominously. He showed Sylvie how to load and aim the small gun.

"This gun is a 9mm Glock and has very little kick, as you will see. It is fully loaded with a fresh clip. Put it in your pocket. If we have any trouble, release the safety. To shoot, you just pull the safety off like this. Point and pull the trigger. That's all there is to it. Come on, let's go eat. I will practice shooting with your later, when it is safe."

Sylvie pocketed the small gun comfortably in her baggy jean's pocket. She was surprised at how small the deadly weapon was. She already felt more confident and put a swing in her walk.

She and Bert held hands as they ambled slowly to the nearest burger joint and ordered two cheeseburgers, a large fries and one chocolate shake with two straws. That was all they could afford. It took all the money they had on the two of them. But it was enough. They sat outside in the cool, summer afternoon breezes and ate at a small round table underneath the restaurant awning.

When the two friends had almost finished eating and were taking turns sipping their milkshake, Bert took the letter out of his pocket. He turned it over in his hands and examined the return address. He said to Sylvie, "My mother must have moved again. This is a new address. She is using a Dallas address now."

Sylvie seemed interested and thought about her own mother, who, as far as she knew, lived in a posh condo in Central Park West in New York City. Her new boyfriend was a Wall Street investment banker. It was his condo. Her mother was happier to be thought of as being without children and gave Sylvie the impression that if she called and introduced her new boyfriend, she would do her best to ruin her new relationship. Her mother had a reputation for that kind of jealousy, regardless of the fact that she had so much herself. It disgusted Sylvie. It hurt her feelings that she could not confide in her mother because she was so immature and selfish.

Bert opened the envelope and unfolded the single sheet of paper. He read it quickly and voraciously and frowned. A photo had fallen out of the letter onto the table. Sylvie picked it up and asked Bert, "May I?"

He answered, absorbed in his own thoughts, "Of course..." The photograph was of a pretty woman who looked too young to be Bert's mother, but who resembled Bert a great deal. She was a brunette with long, curly hair and bright hazel eyes like him. In fact, it was obvious that he resembled her and not his father. She wore a long, over-the-knee, cotton sundress with sunflowers on it, and had a yellow flower behind her ear. She held a bouquet of the same flowers in her hand and had a big, sweet smile on her face.

"She's beautiful," said Sylvie. "Is this your sister or cousin?" She still thought the woman in the photo was way too young to be Bert's mother. Bert blushed and looked at the photo too.

He said, "That's my mother. She had me when she was sixteen. She's thirty-four now, but sort of looks my age."

"Yeah," agreed Sylvie.

"My father hates her. He calls her 'hippie trailer trash'. A nicer person you will never meet, though. She is really as sweet as she looks in this picture. I've always loved her. She never really had much more than minimum wage, which is why my dad won custody."

"I wish my own mother was nicer," commented Sylvie, sadly.

"Maybe she is, and you just don't know it."

"Ha, Bert. I like know it. She is never there, or available, when I need her. She won't even talk to me on the phone. And when she does, she has a difficult time being decent. She give me the impression that she is embarrassed that she has a daughter. No matter how well I do, she acts as if she doesn't care."

Bert looked at his hands and said, "My mom said she wants to visit. I don't think it is a good idea. My dad could hurt her."

"She could stay with Aunt Asia and me. I have the gun now and my aunt has several guns herself. Your dad would never know."

"Think your aunt would be okay with that?" said Bert, sounding hopeful.

"I will ask her. But, yeah, I think so..."

Bert said, "That might work. Go ahead, ask her. I know my mom wants me to live with her. She always did. I thought it was safer and smarter to make my own plans independently and see her later. Maybe when my dad is safely locked up. He could kill her. I love her, Sylvie. She is the only person in the world that cares about me. Loves me." He looked across the table at Sylvie intently and continued. "Besides you, I mean. I don't like being away from her, but I stayed with my father to protect her from him. He is a beast."

"I'll ask Aunt Asia. I know you want to see your mom. She'll be safe over there and you will be too. He'll never know. I wish I could see my mom, too. I know how it is. So, I'll help you."

"Thanks, Sylvie. I really do love you. You can call me on my cell and let me know for sure. I have my mom's number on it. I can call her. Ignacio gave me the phone. Dad would never know. I memorized mom's number. She knows my situation and doesn't change her cell phone number. My father would never let me have a phone. If he knew, he would kill me outright. That is why I have a gun. I just don't trust his temper. I have so much freedom now. The Almontes treat me like a brother and a son. I love them. They are wonderful people. I know I was becoming like him before I met you and Ignacio. I was becoming a bully and blamed others for my difficulties. It is different now. I really believe that you and the Almontes care about me. Now I know that I have people that really care about me."

"Ignacio?" asked Sylvie, puzzled. "Who is that?"

"Ignacio Gonzalo is Chico's real name. Chico (which means "boy") is just a nickname that Sheila Rodriguez gave him in grammar school. She said she used to call to him--'Boy! Come here!' or 'Chico! Vente con migo!' So, the name stuck. I think in an English-speaking world it works for him even better than 'Nacio'.

Sylvie smiled and said, "I can see that."

"I call him by his real name because I am learning to become fluent in Spanish. I took it in high school and the Almonte family speaks Spanish at home when no English speakers are around. I asked them not to speak English around me occasionally, so I can learn to understand their native tongue more quickly. I am doing pretty well.

Cisco's real name, of course, is Francisco--but when his English speaking classmates started calling him 'Frank', he changed his name to the Spanish diminutive. It didn't hurt any that the Cisco Kid movies made the tough-man fictional character popular at one time. A lot of people think the Cisco Kid was a real person. Actually, Cisco Almonte said that Pancho Villa (whose real name was Jose Doroteo Arango Arambulo) once called himself Francisco (i.e. Cisco) 'Pancho' Villa. 'Villa' was his grandfather's name. 'Cisco', of course, is a diminutive of 'Francisco'. So, the Cisco Kid was Pancho Villa.

"Makes sense that Cisco would prefer that over Frank," said Sylvie, admiring Bert's intelligence once again.

"Yeah, totally. My dad named me Bertram, but I generally dislike the name. At least the Almontes have their own cultural context for their birth names. I sort of don't. But no one usually uses my full name anyway, even if they knew what it was, which they don't."

Bert got up and offered Sylvie his hand. She joined him and they walked hand in hand into the darkening Illinois twilight on their way homeward. Bert said, "You know I learn a lot about Mexican history from the Almontes, too. For example, you know that Spanish is only an adopted colonial language throughout Central and South America."

Sylvie nodded.

Bert went on, "The Almonte family is originally from Michoacan, Mexico where their people (the Tarascan) spoke Purepecha."

"Like Aztec or Mayan? Right?" asked Sylvie, bumping shoulders with Bert. His muscles felt good to her and she hung onto that feeling of warmth.

"Would be, except the Tarascan people were not overly friendly with the Aztecs--who lived close by. They had trade agreements with them but kept a distance--as an independent people. The Tarascan are also descended from an even earlier tribal group, the Wackusecha tribe and the Chichimec ethnic group. Like most people, Mexicans have multiple origins. The Spanish colonizers are only one of the more recent influences."

Sylvie nodded, amazed at Bert's closeness with the Almontes and his deep sensitivities. "So," she said. "Michoacan is the Almonte family homeland."

"Yeah," answered Bert, pausing a minute before he turned off to go up the road to the Almonte ranch. "They love that place, dearly. I want to visit there someday, too. They talk about it a lot."

Sylvie reached up to touch Bert's face. He bent over and kissed her lightly on the lips. She hugged him tightly. So tight she could feel the gun in her jean's pocket jab her thigh as a reminder of their trepidatious situation.

"I will call you," said Bert in a deep voice. "I'll show you how to shoot a little later when we can practice. Leave the safety on and hide the gun somewhere safe."

"Okay, Bert."

Bert squeezed her arm and turned away, walking up the dirt road that led to his new home. "Adios!" he called over his shoulder.

"Bye!" shouted Sylvie at his retreating back.

She hurried home to her aunt and whatever chores she had left undone to spend the entire day with Bert. She hugged herself and ran part of the way to her aunt's house, arriving out of breath and walking into the kitchen just as her aunt was lighting a small fire in the wood stove. The evening was getting a little chilly, which was not unusual for spring near the Mississippi. It felt rather good after a very hot day.

"Well, hello Sylvie!" greeted her aunt.

Sylvie flinched a little, expecting a barrage of questions for being so late and not doing her chores around her Aunt Asia's house.

"Out with Bert?" asked her aunt, unsurprised at her lateness. Junior bolted over to Sylvie and almost knocked her over with his babyish exuberance to see her.

"Whoa, yeah," answered Sylvie, holding herself upright by bracing her back against the kitchen wall, feeling the deep warmth of the kitchen stove take the nighttime chill out of her body and calm her nerves a little. "We took a long walk and went out to eat."

"That took all day?" questioned her aunt.

"We had a lot to talk about."

"Really, Sylvie? I did all your chores--fed the livestock and your dog. I took Junior out with Zucchini. It's hard to believe a long walk took over eight hours."

There it was. Sylvie set her jaw and felt the old resentment against her aunt begin to seep in.

"Bert and I had some really important issues to discuss. His mom sent him a letter and she wants to visit. He is afraid to let her. I told him that you might let her stay with us in one of your extra guest rooms. Would that be okay?" Bert says she is really nice."

"Wow, Sylvie. I hope you did not go over to Bert's house to get that letter. That is very dangerous. The police department is still on alert with Officer Thomas, regardless of the fact that he went back to work today. I want you to stay away from his house. I wish you had asked me first, before mentioning anything to Bert. You should be careful about getting into Bert's life too deeply right now. Leave that to Chico Almonte and Sgt. Rodriguez. Bert's dad could be a very dangerous man. He carries a gun, you know. You are only fifteen. In another three or four years, maybe you can make your own decisions. But now, maybe, you should slow down on things a little bit."

Sylvie narrowed her eyes and said to her aunt, sharply. "Can she stay here or not?"

"Who?" answered her aunt feeling cornered.

"Bert's mom!" shouted Sylvie, feeling intimidated by her aunt's lack of understanding.

"Uh, Sylvie, let me discuss this with Sheila first and see what she says before we drag that whole mess over here. She could stay with the Almontes, too. They have extra room and a whole lot more access to guns and self-defense if Carlton Thomas should show up there."

"You have guns, Aunt Asia! We could hide her better than the Almontes. There is no guarantee that Officer Thomas hasn't been watching their house. He tried to break in there before. And did so successfully, too. We think Carlton Thomas would not suspect Bert's mom is staying over here."

"You have a good point there, Sylvie. It's okay with me. Let me speak to Sheila first and get back to you on that. It would be better if they were aware of Bert's mother staying here so they could be on alert, too. I don't want to walk into this blind-sided."

Sylvie made an exasperated noise and stomped up the stairs to her room, slamming the door.

Asia felt bad that she and Sylvie were back to having arguments again but dragging the whole business of a potentially dangerous renegade cop over to her house sounded like more than she wanted to risk her life with--guessing how explosive an issue Bert's mother could be. She phoned Sgt. Rodriguez's cell and Sheila agreed with her that maybe the entire idea of a visit was a rather sensitive issue right now.

"If not now, then when?" asked Asia. "Sylvie has her heart set on the visit. You know how neglectful her own mother is. Things could just get more tense between Bert and his dad. They might not get any better than they are now and might even get worse."

"True. I guess it's okay with me. Just let me know if you decide to let Bert's mother visit, I would want to set up some extra protection for you and her."

"Of course..."

The two women hung up and Asia went upstairs to speak with her niece again.

Sylvie was pleased that her aunt basically said the visit was okay and told her that she would update her on exactly when Bert's mother would be coming. She definitely thought it was wise to give a head's up to Sgt. Rodriguez and the Almonte family.

Asia was relieved that her niece was so quick to drop her attitude and went back downstairs feeling a little shaky over their plans, vowing to clean and oil her handguns, stash them around the house, and turn her home surveillance cameras on. She still didn't feel good about the situation but was unwilling to start a fight over it with her niece.

__________

Major Day was packing to leave. She had to be back on her base, Al Dhafra, in the United Arab Emirates, in a couple of days. She had spoken to Sylvie and told her that she could Skype her whenever she wanted to. She was especially interested in their conversations about entering the Air Force Academy and told Sylvie to have Bert email her, that she would write him a recommendation.

She said, "You two seem like really dedicated kids on the right track. You are both good students with great academic records. I will write a recommendation for you, too, if you still want to attend the Academy after your high school graduation. Please keep in touch with me. We will all work together to keep you and Bert safe from his father."

Sylvie flinched at the reminder of her difficulties with Officer Thomas.

Major Day went on, "In fact, I think I will draft an official letter of protest that Carlton Thomas be removed from the SLPD without recommendation. Hopefully ending his career in law enforcement."

Sylvie answered, "Perhaps you should wait a little on that. Bert's mother is coming to visit and we both want to stay under the radar because of that. Bert has plans to reveal what he knows about his father, but he says that timing is everything. We don't want to set his dad off until the net around him is flawless. Also, I don't think you can say anything new. Half the town wants Thomas off the force. But Bert does have more information he can add when the time is right, which he feels is not now. Not when his mother's visit is imminent. That could be dangerous for anyone who dislikes Officer Thomas. He is a very violent man."

Major Day was taken aback at Sylvie's well thought out and mature answer. She obviously had discussed this topic extensively with Bert. She smiled and stretched out her hand, shook with Sylvie saying, "You're on, girlfriend. That's okay by me." She went on, "I have something for you." The Major took a rectangular zippered box out of a drawer. "Here," she said. "Me and your aunt want you to have this."

Sylvie frowned and unzippered the box. Her heart stopped. It was a brand new pistol! Her aunt knew?! Wow, Aunt Asia was full of surprises. She felt bad that she had taken her anger out on her in the beginning of the summer. Somehow, she would make that up to her.

Major Day explained, "We know you care about Bert and that your relationship with him is a healthy one and that he means a lot to you. We also know his dad is unpredictable. You are too young to register a gun on your own, so this is registered in your aunt's name.

"Keep it close. If anything should happen in the house, you have the right to protect your aunt and yourself. Do not be afraid to act. Your Aunt Asia will teach you how to be a good marksman. She is pretty good herself. Just be careful and treat this weapon with respect. There is a full box of ammunition in the same drawer I got the gun from. But be careful. Understand, Sylvie?"

Sylvie nodded, numb with shock. She remembered herself and said, "Thank you so much, Major Day," She reached over and hugged her mentor with gratitude. "Bert and I will make you proud."

Major Day shed a small tear and hugged Sylvie tighter, saying, "You already have."

Sylvie leaned back and said, "Bert was thinking about majoring in Biology at the Academy and then maybe getting a scholarship to go to medical school. He doesn't know how assignments in the Air Force work after graduation, but he mentioned that he would like to work on a Medevac plane. He would like to be a medical doctor.

"I might major in Law and then go to law school after the Academy. I might like to be a JAG and become a military attorney. A female military lawyer could be an asset to the Air Force. There are many issues in which a woman-based legal defense would be very valuable. Both degrees come with extended active service commitments, but both Bert and I are prepared to do whatever it takes to succeed. Both of us are good students. Bert did really well in high school and on his SATs. I like school and got a 4.0 average for freshman year."

"That's what it takes," answered Major Day in an encouraging voice as she closed her last suitcase and smoothed her dress uniform. "I have to catch my flight. Skype me tomorrow after 18 hundred hours (that's about 6pm your time). It will probably take me about twenty hours to get to the Air Base from St. Louis, get settled in, catch up on my duties and change my clothes." The Major smiled at Sylvie and walked out of the room, taking the stairs two at a time.

Sylvie heard her and her aunt walk out the kitchen door. She felt a little lost for a moment until Junior's big, fuzzy, soft puppy head pushed itself up under her hand and she laughed. She hugged the young dog to her chest and felt a little better. "Ahh, Junior! You're the best!" He gave her a sloppy lick with his tongue and climbed onto the bed with her.

She felt so much older than her fifteen years. She thought of living on an Air Force Base and wished one day she could work on one, maybe even with Bert. She dreamt of becoming a JAG attorney and wondered what kind of life that would be. One day, after the Academy, she and Bert would both be Officers.

Sylvie lay across the bed and put her arm around Junior. She felt so depressed that she hugged Junior tighter and fell asleep with the gun case on the nightstand next to her and her arm over the young St. Bernard, ruffling his baby fuzz. Major Day was everything she would have wanted in a mother, if she really had one that cared. And she really craved one right now at this important juncture in her life.

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# Chapter Seven

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BERT THOMAS'S MOTHER arrived at Asia Reynolds' house by taxi with only one suitcase. She was a very friendly, gregarious woman and Asia liked her right away. The two women sat at Asia's kitchen table and made plans to be as clandestine as possible.

Elizabeth (which her family had shortened to "Liza" or "Liz") Jones knew Carlton Thomas's temper very well. A little too well. Bert's parents had never married, which Liza felt was one of the better things she had ever done in terms of handling the relationship she had with Carlton.

She was a very pretty, ebullient, naturally blonde woman that smelled strongly of patchouli oil and wore attractive hand-crafted, carved wooden beads (which she had strung herself) and many silver-colored bracelets, making her arms jangle when she moved.

She was as expressive as Bert was subtle and quiet. She accepted the offer of an all-vegetable meal from Asia easily with an enthusiasm which endeared her to Asia right away. Asia lit a vanilla scented candle and put it in the middle of her kitchen table to Liza's delight.

Liza worked in a handicraft store making necklaces and bracelets and doing beadwork. She loved her job and said that she could not have wished for more. She did not make a lot of money, but her handicrafting skills allowed her to move as she liked. She wanted to move to Silver Lake, not only because of the legendary summer tourist/artisan season, but (of course) because she would be closer to her son. Asia said, "You're ex would not like that. I would think that would be rather dangerous."

"You are right," answered Liza. "That's why I haven't moved closer in the past. I did not want to put my son in harm's way. I did bring a box of my hand-crafted jewelry to leave with an artisan here to sell for me, though."

"Oh," said Asia, enthused. "You can leave that with me. I sell my photographs at the local camera store. I am sure they would carry your jewelry too. They sell other handicrafts as well, and I can oversee everything for you and send you the profits."

"You took those photos in your living room? They are gorgeous! You are so talented!"

A voice answered from Asia's back door, "Yeah, mom. She is a famous documentary filmmaker, too. More famous than Michael Moore! She made that historical documentary of Woodstock a couple years ago. Remember? It got an academy award. You loved it!"

Liza turned in shock to see her son standing right behind her, his arms starting to encircle her. "Bert! My baby!" She turned to Asia with her eyebrows still raised and said, "You made Woodstock? I went crazy over that film. My mother was there, at the festival! She said it was wonderful, but a real mud-fest. It rained almost the whole time she was there." Liz did a double take, still laughing, and got up to embrace her son. She looked up at him. "Bert, you got so big!"

"That's what teenagers do, mom - they grow! I'm over six feet tall, now." he said with a guffaw and lifted her off the ground, swinging her in a circle. He accepted a cup of Asia's famous spearmint tea and sat with the two women as they ate. He also accepted a piece of hot corn bread with Almonte organic saltless butter. "Mmm..." he commented. "This butter is exquisite! I've never tasted anything like it. It has such a distinctive, nutty flavor."

"It is from Chico's ranch. It is raw butter made freshly from raw organic milk, an Almonte Creamery specialty."

"Wow. I live there, but I don't remember having this before. It tastes like walnuts."

"Yeah," said Asia. "It does have an unusual flavor. I have a friend that raises bees, too. So, I get raw wild honey from her. It tastes like blueberries and raspberries depending on where the bees congregate. I will get a bottle for you and the Almontes. I guess you haven't been there long enough to get any."

"There are also a lot of large men over at the ranch more than willing to consume anything this tasty."

"You said it."

"That is where you live?" asked Bert's mother, quietly, obviously a little heart-broken that she could not see the place that sounded so fantastic.

"Yeah, mom. But you know we have to be careful. Dad has already broken in there once. He almost got fired from the local police force for doing that."

"Almost? Why just almost? Is he playing the 'good 'ol boy' game again? He should be in jail."

"He is an old friend of the Chief of Police. Remember Buzzy Ackerman? That's who the Chief is here. Bad coincidence."

"The worst. I never trusted Buzzy, even when he was in high school. He was just way too eager to make friends with Carlton. How is Carlton, by the way."

"Not terminal enough to make me happy. I have to tell you that I will be moving to Colorado Springs to the Air Force Academy in the fall if I am accepted. I should know pretty soon if I gain admissions there. Maybe you could move there, too. Denver is very close and people there love handicrafted anything. Then we can see each other all the time."

"Your dad will not like that, you know."

"Too bad. I chose to enter the military because all my comrades, including me, will be carrying weapons. I don't think he can 'good 'ol boy' them. We will keep your residence there quiet, as usual, too. One day, ma, I will put him away for the rest of his life. I know enough to do it. It is just a matter of timing and safety. For you, me, Asia and my new girlfriend. And everyone who helped me here."

"How is your new girlfriend? I am anxious to meet her."

"She is just fine. She'll be here in a little while. She's out working at a neighbor's farm which is a local animal rescue, taking care of the livestock and other animals. She likes animals."

__________

Harold Skylar (aka "Harry the Hippie") was flying high this summer. His girlfriend, Sage Sommers, was still here in Silver Lake and they were playing various gigs around town in the evenings. During the day, they had a regular "spot" playing street music right outside the carnival area, near the Ferris wheel. Some people wondered that if they played gigs at night and now owned a nice, used van--why on earth would they busk outside during the day?

The fact was, their busking (playing music outside on the street for donations) earned them close to a hundred dollars a day. Harry and Sage both enjoyed the wider audiences, introducing their CD to the general and international public, the children and the whole carnival atmosphere. It was hard for Harry, in particular, to give up large, new, spontaneous audiences on the street. Sage, too, had grown to love it.

Their repertoire broadened due to their huge audiences during the day, which also brought new people to their nighttime gigs and sold many CDs. For the daytime audiences, they added a few children's songs such as Roger Miller's OO-DE-LALLY song from Disney's Robin Hood cartoon which has a short, simple, but bang up guitar intro that allowed Harry to smile and joke with the children while repeating the catchy rhythm before he started the first verse (and refrain)--his favorite--

"Robin Hood and Little John walkin' through the forest,

Laughin' back and forth at what the other'ne has to say.

Reminisin', this-'n'-thattin' havin' such a good time.

OO-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly what a day.

OO-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly what a day!"

Just finishing this verse, Harry saw two polished boots glinting in the sunlight of this perfect summer's day. Then the flash of a diamond pinky ring. When he looked up, he saw the sneering face of Officer Carlton Thomas and his heart sank. He lost contact with the large audience that had gathered around him and faltered, stuttering to a stop and looking apologetically at Sage. He brushed his wispy, blonde hair out of his face.

"Getting ready to pack it up, eh, kid?" taunted the officer.

"Uh," answered Harry, confused. Street music was legal in Silver Lake and both Harry and Sage wore their clip-on licenses prominently displayed on their shirts. But Harry was a very non-confrontational type of person. His life philosophy was mostly 'a friend to all' and he had many influential friends around town. Too bad they were not here right now. He hesitated, looked at Sage who nodded understandingly, and said, "Yes." quietly--almost to himself. The two young musicians started putting their equipment away, their audience thinned, looking very disappointed as they slowly walked away.

Officer Thomas watched them packing the new van and walked over to Harry. He said, "Let's see that license and registration. You have insurance for this heap of junk?" Harry, thoroughly intimidated, produced his papers. Officer Thomas radioed the information to his dispatcher to check up on Harry. The information that Harry's vehicle was legal seemed to make the Officer rather angry. Like it sort of ruined his day.

"Better keep your lousy music away from my beat," Carlton threatened Harry. "I just don't trust you. I know you are on probation for two counts of what (in my own book) should have been felonies. You just steer clear of me."

"But," interrupted Sage. "We have licenses to play our music anywhere on the streets of Silver Lake. We don't have to move."

"You shut up!" growled an even angrier Officer Thomas. "Those licenses also give me the right to revoke where you play as obstructive to pedestrian and other traffic.

"I determined that your audience was too big for the carnival entrance area - and therefore was obstructive. It is my evaluation, not yours, that is important, so you just glue your hippie trap shut and do as I tell you to. Right now, and in the future."

Both teenagers said, "Yes, sir," simultaneously and meekly, finished packing their equipment and got into their van, driving away.

Satisfied, Carlton Thomas turned on his heel, snickering at the fear that had been written on both musicians' faces and entered the carnival area, himself. He passed the Ferris wheel and started walking past the roller coaster, buying kielbasa on a bun with mustard, French fries and a Coke.

He decided to sit on a bench and eat his lunch there, as much as he hated the carnival crowd, especially the children, his feet hurt, and he needed to sit.

It was hard for him to enjoy his food after talking to Harry. He hated hippies and nature-lover types. Just talking to people like that made him feel dirty, like he needed a shower. Bertram's mother was a useless person, an artist, who had unprotected sex with him and had not told him of her pregnancy until it was too late to have an abortion.

So, he liked sex, that was normal. His dad would have locked him in a closet if he had liked to draw, paint or read books like his own son. It wasn't allowed in Carlton's father's home. Carlton had no mother, just like his son. When Bertram drew in his house, he knew he had to sneak it. Carlton couldn't tell which books were assigned from high school and which were not, so he had to let Bert read whatever he wanted to. He wanted the boy to seem above average in everything, so he, himself, would remain above suspicion.

The court had awarded custody of Bertram to him because he was a steadily working cop and Bert's mother was a low wage earner. Not that he wanted a kid. Bert was an accident, but he was not about to have his blood grow up hating him.

For a while, he had some hope that Bertram would be strong like he was and not a wussy like that girl Sylvie made him, and the Almonte family encouraged him to be. Bert had shown signs of becoming a bully. Carlton approved of that. He called that manly strength and encouraged Bert to be violent and persecute others, which wasn't all that difficult with a motherless boy, especially a large boy like Bertram. But, Sylvie and the Almontes had changed all that almost overnight. It flummoxed Carlton. He wished he had more influence over his own kid, but the Almontes gave Bert free reign and he was much stricter, so he knew that Bert ran from that.

Carlton finished his meal, threw the wrappers in a trash can and started walking his beat inside the Silver Lake carnival area. Soon, he would be back outside on the street and free of this loud, happy crowd.

He asked himself, Why did people like this useless tripe, anyway? It disgusted him and walking through the carnival was the worst part of his job, in his opinion--the only opinion that mattered. He was thirsty for some target practice on the town shooting range that the police department had forced him to use. He could take out his frustrations there.

Just as Officer Thomas left the carnival behind and started walking his street beat, Patrolman Chico Almonte spotted him from another corner while riding his official steed, Niño. He followed Thomas from a distance of about two blocks so he couldn't hear the horse. Within fifteen minutes Officer Thomas had issued about five parking tickets. All of them seemed mildly fair, but most of the drivers rushed out of nearby stores and objected. In Silver Lake, things were usually rather laid back, especially in the summer season. If a driver was next to their car, the ticket was usually turned into a verbal warning.

I mean if you think about it, tickets are issued to prevent traffic problems--if the driver is right there, there is no question of traffic congestion or the like, is there? Anyway, Officer Thomas could be seen arguing with all the ticketed drivers and not tearing any tickets up.

Chico had taken a strong dislike to the new Officer. And Chico was a very mild person more into community relations than anything else, although he had been commended on his police work on many occasions, such as when he covered Sgt. Rodriguez during a confrontation last summer with Talbot Patterson after the kidnapping of Asia Reynolds.

This situation did not help his dislike of Officer Thomas. All he could do was encourage the Chief to fire Thomas and look for another candidate.

Maybe he would write a critical report about the Officer's street behavior. He pretty much intended to

do just that. Chico turned Niño around and headed towards his next destination.

Sylvie Reynolds burst into her aunt's kitchen as if she was on fire. Spotting Bert and the pretty, blonde lady at the kitchen table, she squealed with delight, just as Junior landed his enthusiastic damp tongue on Liz Jones almost knocking her off her chair. Rocking with laughter, the three new friends heard a loud, comical donkey bray from Asia's back yard. "Oh, my god...I'm sorry! I saw Bert's car and just tied Punkin up and ran in! I'll go and put her and Fuzzy back in the barn. They could both use some water anyway. We had a great ride home from Frankie's."

"Punkin? Fuzzy? What was that noise out back?!" questioned Bert's mom, still crying from laughter and trying, only semi-successfully, to get the huge St. Bernard puppy to sit or lie down. Junior obliged, then ran after Sylvie as she went out the back door in the direction of the barn, with a dog's desire not to miss anything good. Liz took a long, loud breath. "My god! That is your girlfriend's dog, Bert?"

Bert turned red and nodded and said, "The dog is Sylvie's newest obsession. His name is Junior. Punkin is Asia's donkey and Fuzzy Bud is the donkey's life companion, a long haired Chihuahua."

"Now, that's a dog. Big enough, isn't he?" answered his mother, wiping her face with a paper napkin.

"Junior? He should be well over 100 pounds full grown. But he is really an angel. I know you didn't mean Fuzzy. She's a tiny thing," said Bert, smiling.

"Junior is cute as anything. I'd love to meet the donkey and the Chihuahua," commented Liz.

"Come on, then, mama. Let's go and see them," said Bert, affably.

Mother and son followed Sylvie out into the yard just as she was leading the donkey into the barn.

"Look at that cart! What a work of craftsmanship!" exclaimed Liz.

Sylvie turned around and waved her guests over. "This beautiful cart was made by a couple of local kids and re-painted recently. It converts to a sled in the winter. Want a ride Ms. Jones?"

Bert caught his breath and said to his mother, "Just around the front of the house, mom. Dad is still working so it is okay. Just a quick ride. Please?"

Liz looked trapped and said, "Sure, baby. Just a quick ride." She went over to Sylvie and the donkey and stroked the calm animal, commenting on how pretty the brown and tan donkey was. And how big and cute her fuzzy, foot-long ears were. Bert helped her into the cart just as Fuzzy Bud stood up and stretched to his full eight inches. She went over and sniffed at Liz, wagging her short tail. Liz giggled and put the tiny dog in her lap. "This is Punkin's best friend?"

"Always has been," said Sylvie. "They both showed up here at Asia's one day walking together. Been here ever since."

"Hunh..." said Liz. "You will have to tell me that story one day."

"I will," answered Sylvie as she chukked at the donkey and pulled the two of them forward up Asia picturesque drive to the front road.

Bert yelled, "Not too far!"

"Okay. Don't worry," yelled Sylvie back at him.

"It is just too bad we have to be so wary. Bert's dad is so very temperamental. It is too bad he cannot enjoy anything. This is so much fun," said Liz putting her hand into the air over the side of the cart. Pumpkin pulled all three of them easily and was joined by Junior and Zucchini...one large dog on either side.

"Ha," Liz said. "Look at the dogs. We have an escort. Punkin is so calm."

"She likes these dogs," explained Sylvie. "But she tried to kick Carlton once. We have to keep them apart. She seems to sense something. Animals are like that. Silent but sentient."

"Smart. They are far more intelligent than humans give them credit for. I admire Asia. I think maybe I will try to be a vegetarian, too. Just for ethical reasons," commented Liz.

Sylvie smiled and said, "This is a good place to start. Asia loves her vegetables and fruit. You should see her garden later in the summer. And the apples are quite abundant also."

"I wish I could stay that long. Bert asked me to try and move to Denver or Colorado Springs."

"Oh, yes, that would be closer to the Air Force Academy. Bert has applied for admission there."

Liz said, "Yes. Finally, we could be together for a while, until Carlton finds out where we are."

"There are laws against that, you know. Stalking is illegal."

"Maybe, but Carlton has police connections and he has used them in the past to track me down."

"Bert said he has some stuff on his dad that could put him in jail for life."

"One would have to. Carlton has a violently possessive side to him. He is obsessive about controlling others."

"Yeah," said Sylvie, her voice trembling. "I've noticed. He pulled a gun on Bert recently."

"It wouldn't be the first time."

On this sad note Sylvie pulled up in front of Asia's barn again and the two women hopped out of the donkey cart with Bert's help. As Sylvie pulled the barn doors open, Liz exclaimed with delight when Thelma and Louise hopped out to greet Pumpkin and Fuzzy Bud. Fuzzy got out of the way and ran to her water bowl in the barn. Pumpkin nuzzled the two young goats.

"Asia has a barn full of really lovely animals!"

"She sure does. You should see my employer's place, Frankie Franklin. She is an elderly woman, but runs her own farm, domestic and wild animal rescue. She has all sorts of dogs, cats, chickens, calves, deer ... and more. In fact, the two goats here used to be hers. They were rescued from a dead farmer's abandoned livestock."

"Yeah. Bert said you love animals and you work there."

"Yup. Frankie also owns a Bar-B-Que rib take-out place inherited from her parents. So, she needs some help with her rescues. I love the work. Bert meets me over there as much as he can. I sometimes work at the rib shack, too."

Bert walked up with a camera and started taking videos and photos of Sylvie and Liza. "Hey," said Liza, shyly, putting her hand up to block the camera.

"Bert is an incredible painter. He does beautiful portraits. The Almonte family gave him a full set of acrylic paints, brushes, an easel and all the canvases he might need or want. Plus, encouragement," complimented Sylvie, looking at Bert affectionately.

"That's wonderful. That is just what Bert needs. His dad hates artistic talent, especially in young men. He thinks it is too effeminate. He would never let Bert paint. Bert used to have to hide his drawings. You should see his old sketchbooks. They are fantastic. I think they are truly phenomenal, and not just because he is my son, but because I think he is truly and unusually talented."

"Mom!" It was Bert's turn to become shy. He snapped out of it and had the two women pose for his choice of portraits. This time they cooperated good-naturedly. Bert looked at his watch and said, "I have to get back to the Almontes. I promised them I would have dinner with them tonight. We all think it is too early to decide when you should come over to see my new place. Not now. Dad just got off work. I will call and let you know."

Liz looked sad and hugged her son, saying, "All right, I know the routine. The same as always. One day, my boy. One day."

"Yes, mom. I love you."

"I love you, too. I always will."

Junior barked at Bert as he got in his car and drove away. It really felt like Sylvie had found a fine, new family. Perhaps even a new mother-substitute. Deep inside her, she felt a warm and rising happiness that was new to her. Junior brushed up against her leg and gave another little, joyous bark.

__________

The Silver Lake High Rollers Casino management called Chief Buzzy Ackerman later that afternoon. They had noticed an abandoned sports car near the front of their parking lot. It had been there for about a week.

Buzzy sent Patrolman Chico Almonte and Sgt. Sheila Rodriguez over to investigate. Sheila rode her new customized Harley over, and Chico took his patrol car after stabling Niño and giving him water. He wanted him to rest in the shade. It was a very hot day. He roared off towards the casino, trying to beat his girlfriend over there. Even slightly illegally turning on his Mars lights and siren.

He lost the race. Sheila cheated and rode her new motorcycle over a couple of fields on an ATV trail, taking a short cut and frustrating the competition. Laughing, she removed her helmet just as her slow poke boyfriend drove up in his patrol car. "You lose, chum!" she said as he pulled up next to her. He hugged Sheila and gave her a congratulatory kiss. "Mmm," she hummed lovingly back at him.

The two cops examined the abandoned car when the casino personnel pointed it out to them. One poker table dealer suspected that it belonged to a very competitive player he had seen at his table the weekend before. He said he had walked off with another player that he had sort of blitzed at the table. The dealer expected a fight between the two, but they put their arms around each other and walked out the door together instead. The dealer had overheard the two agree to take one of their cars somewhere. He thought it was odd, since the loser said he was going to take the other to another casino.

The dealer knew that there were no casinos between Silver Lake and St. Louis. But, then again, weirder things have happened between poker players. He gave Sheila and Chico a description of both men. The two cops said they would run the plates of the abandoned car and arrange to have it towed to the town vehicle pound.

The dealer then remembered something else. He told Sheila that the black lady from KANU cable news had seen both players and had looked at them rather intently. He asked Sgt. Rodriguez if she knew who he meant. Then he remembered the newscaster's name, since she was well-known around town. It was Elise Jamison. Sheila's head went up and she told the card dealer that indeed she knew who he meant and promised to interview her.

The dealer also remembered that right after the two card players had left the casino together, a vintage bright red MG raced out of the parking lot. The casino employee remembered it because he said, "It was a beauty of a car. You don't see many of those anymore. All polished to the nines. I don't know if that is relevant or not. But, you know, it could have been them."

The casino was busy that night, but it was late when the two men left, so the crowd was thinning, and the dealer's table was right in front of the large window that overlooked the parking lot. He admitted he did not see who was in the car, but it was the only car leaving the parking lot at the time, near his table anyway.

Sheila said, "Anything you noticed is relevant. Here is my card. If you remember anything else, please feel free to call me." It sounded like foul play to her, but she couldn't be sure of anything and discussed what she had found out with Chico (who had interviewed other casino personnel with less success). She told him that she would call Elise that evening when she got back to the Almonte Ranch.

The abandoned car was a Porsche and not the sort of car one would just leave somewhere. That just increased the feeling between the two cops that something serious had gone down. No one would just leave such a car there or anywhere.

Chico and Sheila drove back to the Silver Lake police department and wrote out their reports, putting them on the Chief's desk, riding double on Sgt. Rodriguez's Harley back to the ranch after bedding Chico's prize black stallion down in his private stall at the station.

After dinner, Sheila gave Elise a call on her cell. The cable newscaster confirmed that she saw the two men in the Silver Lake High Rollers Casino the previous weekend. She gave Sheila the shocking news that one of them was Carlton Thomas.

After checking the Porsche plates and asking the station to look up Carlton Thomas's car information, Sheila found out that Carlton drove a red 1980 MG and a Chicago resident, Jack Baxter, owned the Porsche.

Elise did not know anything about the red MG, but she confirmed that both poker players left the casino together that night. That did not say much, but Sheila made a call to Chief Buzzy Ackerman and had him set up an interview with Officer Thomas for the next day.

If Baxter showed up at High Rollers and asked about his car, the management would call the police station and let them know. Otherwise, the local cops were starting to investigate the man's disappearance.

__________

Asia had a very important television interview that evening. She had recently gotten back from India where she had been filming a documentary (entitled A Gift of Life) about animal, child and elderly aid in Rishikesh and India in general (featuring among other organizational charities Ramana's Garden (an untouchables children's orphanage, Cry, Animal Aid India and Rishikesh Animal Rescue; as well as free cataract surgery and medical camps in the Bangalore area sponsored for the elderly by Srila Vivekananda Seva Ashram). These were charitable areas that the developing nation had some issues with.

She felt if India, as the world's largest democracy, followed the lead of these charities, they could conquer their poverty and truly bring equality and compassion to their nation. It was a spectacular documentary and Asia hoped it would win awards and bring a lot of attention to these issues.

She was being interviewed by Chelsea Handler in St. Louis and was bringing Zucchini with her. Chelsea was famous for going on air with her dog, Chunkie. Zucchini and Chunkie were both pretty friendly dogs and Chelsea and her both thought it would be fun to see how well the two dogs got along together. Asia could always put Zookie in the truck if she had to. Her DVD, A Gift of Life, was coming out that week and Asia was up for another Academy Award for the film. Chelsea was a big Netflix show and she was very excited about it. She thought Chelsea Handler was a real hoot and had a cutting edge wit. It would be a great showcase for her new documentary, and she was very excited about the interview.

She got the news about Officer Thomas as she got ready to leave and told Sylvie and Liza to stay home that evening and be safe. She gave them the information about the show, which would not air for about a week and told them Carlton was in some trouble, possibly, again, and to lock the doors and windows and turn the surveillance system on. The SLPD had been given a head's up on both the Almonte residence and the fact that Liza Jones and Sylvie would be alone at Asia Reynold's house.

Sylvie assured Asia that she could fire a gun now and knew how to load it and take the safety off. Asia was surprised and asked her how she knew how to do this. Sylvie looked at the floor and shyly answered, "Bert thought he'd better show me how. So, he loaded the new gun you gave me yesterday and showed me how to cock it and take the safety off. I shot off about three rounds. It was easy to aim and that gave me confidence. His dad won't bother us."

Asia answered, "You should have asked me first. But that is all right in this case, since you and Liza are at-risk right now. Call my cell around midnight. I should be driving back here by then and I will pull over and answer it. I want to make sure the two of you are all right."

"Of course, Aunt Asia. I will call. Break a leg! Say 'hi' to Ms. Handler for me, the kids at my high school in Chicago really like her show, and I do too."

"Sure." Asia gave Sylvie and Liza a hug and told them again to stay inside as she set the house security system.

|  |

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# Chapter Eight

--------

ASIA CALLED LATE THE next day, long after her interview had been filmed. She had decided to stay over in St. Louis and do some more interviews promoting her new documentary, A Gift of Life, and visit some video sales venues as well. Sylvie answered the phone. She told Asia, much to Asia's dismay, that Liz had wanted to go out and visit Bert at a local restaurant for lunch. She got jumpy just staying shut in at the house, especially since Asia was delayed. She had been working on some macrame, but needed a break, which was understandable, but scary considering the circumstances with her ex.

Asia was appalled since Liz had gone out to meet Bert during Carlton Thomas's work hours which he spent walking the streets of Silver Lake. "Sylvie!" she exclaimed. "Doesn't Liz realize how dangerous that is? If they were out together, Carlton could possibly catch sight of her and Bert. She should have had Bert come over to the house at least." Asia was doubly shocked because she had seen Carlton Thomas on Silver Lake Boulevard on her way home from the airport and lit into him about staying away from her niece. She hoped she hadn't set him off.

"Aunt Asia, she got tired of staying inside and hiding."

"Hiding for good reason," interrupted Asia.

"Might be. But she will be back soon. Bert can drive her back here."

"Well, it's too late to stop her now. Let me know when she gets back to the house, so I do not worry."

"Sure, Aunt Asia. Oh, by the way. The cops located the guy that owned that abandoned Porsche. Or, rather, they found his residence in Chicago. They got a warrant to search his place and simply found out that he seemed to earn a living playing poker. His neighbors hadn't seen him. He hasn't been back there since he visited the casino in Silver Lake.

"Chief Ackerman interviewed Carlton Thomas about Baxter, the guy who owns the Porsche, and Thomas has denied knowing him. He said that he was only playing poker with him and walked out the door, but that they split up in the parking lot. He also said he had no idea what his last name is. There is no proof to the contrary right now. You know Carlton, anything could have happened. He is not well known for telling the truth. How did your interview with Chelsea Handler go?"

"Excellent. I think the documentary will do really well. I loved the different charities we highlighted in the film. I hope it does some good."

"Oh, me, too, Aunt Asia. You have a really ideal life's work. I hope I can be like you one day."

Well, that was a turnaround for Asia. From teenage chip-on-the-shoulder attitude to admiration. It gave her a good feeling. A great feeling. She felt like calling her brother, Nelson, and telling him how mature Sylvie had gotten this summer.

"Aunt Asia?"

"Yes, Sylvie?"

"I want go out and look for Liz and Bert."

"Good idea. Be careful and try and stay off the main streets."

"I will."

Sylvie went up to her room, loaded her new gun, stuck it in her jeans' pocket, pulled her hoodie up around her face, and walked down Asia's drive after leaving a whining Junior in the barn with the other animals. She dialed Bert's cell and told him to pick her up on her way into town. Bert agreed, but he was very upset, he told her that Liz had not shown up for their lunch and she was long overdue. He was worried and told her that the two of them should look for her when they met up.

Sylvie's palms began to sweat. She was getting frantic about the fact that Liz was missing. Carlton could have seen her and kidnapped her anywhere along the byways of Silver Lake. She had a strong feeling that the missing poker player, Jack Baxter, might also have been hijacked by Carlton as well. He exuded evil, like he was capable of doing anything to anybody. There was a whole neighborhood of abandoned warehouses along the Mississippi that could hide an abductee. A very creepy, scared feeling overtook her, and she trembled, even in the summer heat.

Carlton really didn't seem like his job meant all that much to him, but a challenge did. He was not someone that anyone could shove around. At all. Sylvie felt like hunting him down herself, shooting him and ending this threat to everyone's happiness and safety. But she knew she wouldn't jeopardize her future by doing that, as much as she wanted to.

Just point and shoot, she reminded herself, comforting her mind with this thought. She took the gun out, took the safety off, cocked it and aimed at a branch. She shot and hit the branch squarely where she wanted to. It snapped. She smiled. Her marksmanship lessons with Bert had done some good. She was almost as good a shot as he was. Let Carlton try anything, she told herself with confidence, putting the safety back on and stuffing the gun in her pocket again.

__________

Officer Carlton Thomas did a double take on Silver Lake Boulevard walking his beat after meeting Asia Reynolds. He rubbed his eyes. He could have sworn he saw Bert's mother walking ahead of him. This was just not his day. There were so many damn hippie chicks in town, it must have been his eyes playing tricks on him. Liza Jones, he knew, did not look her age. She could easily pass for twenty something. The woman, who had just turned into a frozen yogurt store, had the exact same shade of vibrant blonde hair with brown undertones. She wouldn't dare! he thought to himself with an evil chortle. But, damn, that lady was a twin for Liz, he thought again.

He followed the woman into the yogurt store just out of curiosity. He hated yogurt, but he knew Liz liked it - not that he thought that woman was really Liz. Then, he saw her full in the face as she turned towards him. The look of horror and fear on her face made him smile inadvertently. He recognized her just as the full force of his anger invaded his consciousness.

She whirled around, her wooden beads clacking together as her floor-length, flowered skirt flared, and ran out the rear service/employee exit. Carlton ignored her panic and simply walked calmly out the front entrance. Listening intently, he heard the sound of his ex running down the alley. He would plan carefully what he would do next, since no one had really noticed him, which was good. He had enough trouble in this crummy little backwoods town already. He knew if he tracked Bert, he would also be able to entrap Liz, but not as easily as when she was alone. Bert was larger than he was, and slightly stronger, although Carlton was not sure that Bert even knew that. But Carlton did, and planned to use his spiked brass knuckles to even out Bert's advantage and his strength. He could not use his service revolver. He had to account for that to the police department, so it was useless in this situation. He cursed to himself because he didn't think he had time to go home and get one of his own revolvers.

The nerve of that woman! he thought. Still trying to hold onto Bert! And even visiting him on Carlton's own turf. Well, he would teach her a lesson about trying to contact his son. It might be the last lesson he would ever have to teach her, he thought grimly as he clenched his teeth together and rolled his fists into balls. He began to track Liz down the alley in the direction he had heard her running in. He was an excellent tracker and had full confidence in his abilities. He even noticed the marks from her sneakers in the dirt and gravel of the byway. He followed those like a blood hound.

__________

Bert paced nervously back and forth; his mother had been almost an hour late for their lunch appointment. That was something that did not happen much with Liz. She was usually always on time, or she would call his cell. She was careful with her cell. That was her communication device, one of her few strong connections with her son. He swore. He had forgotten his cell phone at the Almontes.

He borrowed a cell from another customer at the restaurant, but Liz did not answer. The call went to her voicemail. He left a message to call him as soon as she could. Why wasn't she answering? She should have been here by now. Even if she was late, she could answer her cell, couldn't she? Reasons why she couldn't answer clouded his mind with apprehension.

When his mother's prolonged absence made it clear that she was missing the first meal they had planned together in ten years, he really started to sweat and worry big time. It was just not something either one of them would miss or take for granted. There was something very wrong. Bert's fists clenched and he slammed the knuckles of one hand painfully into a stuccoed wall. He walked with his bleeding hand to his car and drove to the Almonte Ranch to get his cell phone. Maybe his mom had left a message or text on it for him with an explanation.

He burst into the kitchen at the ranch much to Cisco Almonte's surprise. He was cooking and dropped a wooden spoon on the floor as Bert ran past him. He gave the oldest Almonte brother a hurried explanation as Cisco rinsed off the spoon in the sink. Bert took the stairs to his room two at a time. As soon as Bert dug his cell phone out from under a stack of drawings on his night table, he checked his texts and voice mails...nothing. No messages at all, let alone one from his mother. The worry made

him break out in a cold sweat again. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

He didn't want to think about the reasons that she couldn't even leave a message for him. He found his .45 and loaded it, putting it in his strap on side holster, and wearing a bulky jean jacket over that.

The .45 actually belonged to Chico, who trusted him with it. And, he figured had probably left it with him for self-defense reasons, even though it was illegal for him to carry a gun, which Chico had explained to him and trusted him not to carry it outside.

Too bad, this situation was an exception. His own paranoia about his dad was not enough of a reason to call in the cops just yet, regardless of his wanting to do so.

There was a time--long before he met Sylvia Reynolds--and began to value another way of life, when he wanted to be a tough guy--maybe a gangster. Not anymore, not now. But illegal or not, he was going to protect his mother and himself even if it meant using a gun.

If anything actually looked truly threatening and he had the time to do so, he would call Chico or Sheila. Until then, it was best not to spook his father. He would rather shoot him and plead self-defense later.

His dad. Just the thought of his father's rough treatment of his mother in the past gave him a fit of coughing, turning him red from anger and the effort to breathe. He dialed his father's cell phone through a choking veil of tears. Just before the ringing cell phone went to voice mail, his dad answered.

"Yeah?" Carlton answered in a rough, demanding tone, as if he could care less who was calling.

"Uh, dad?" said Bert in a weak voice, intimidated as usual. No one knew except Sylvie (and his dad) how much he was terrified of him. He knew his father found it funny and was ashamed of it, as well.

"What the hell is it, Bertram?"

"Uh, dad..." Bert stuttered again.

"Fuck it. Tell me what you want, or I'll hang up."

Bert didn't know how to ask him about his mother without betraying the fact that he knew that she was here in Silver Lake, but then it came to him.

"Have you heard from mom?" he asked, leaving the question of where she was open.

--------

THERE WAS A SHORT GASP and hesitation on the other end of the connection, then his dad responded, "Why the hell would I have heard from that stupid, disoriented bitch?! Even if she called, I'd hang up on her." He added, roughly, "You haven't been writing to her again, have you?" Carlton's suspicion crackled through their phones. Bert winced.

He answered, "Uh, no, dad."

Bert clicked off abruptly from nervous tension and decided to drive around town and scope his dad's house before he got home from work, looking for signs of Liz. It was too early to notify the police that she was missing--not that he didn't feel like it.

The safety of his room at the Almonte Ranch gave him some comfort right now. He didn't want to leave that feeling, but he had to find his mother.

He tromped down the stairs and asked Cisco to save him some dinner as he left. Bert, more than anyone else, knew what his father was capable of. It made his blood run cold and his hands clammy.

The drive through town changed his mood and mellowed him out a little. It was truly too bad that his dad lived here in Silver Lake, too. With just Sylvie, the Almontes and especially his mother, it would be pure heaven. It was so pretty here.

With an eye on the sidewalk, Bert watched the orange summer sun disappear into the cloud strata over the sparkling waters of the Mississippi. Several gaily colored hot air balloons descended slowly, getting ready to land. Bert would love a ride with Sylvie in one of those things. In fact, he would like to own one. They drifted downward towards the earth so slowly, like in a dream. He loved this place. It was definitely becoming home to him.

He turned off Silver Lake Boulevard, still floating in that dream, and finally spotted Sylvie Reynolds at the end of the block, near an alley. He smiled and pounded the steering wheel, exclaiming, "Yes!" Sylvie jumped, startled, when Bert pulled up next to her, then smiled and waved as he opened the window on the passenger side of his car.

"Get in, baby. I'm looking for mom. She still hasn't called."

"I called, too. She isn't answering her cell, either."

"I know," said Bert, his voice trembling.

Sylvie got into the car and reached over for Bert with both arms, embracing him. Bert began to sob. Tears ran down his face. Sylvie handed him a Kleenex and kissed his tears. He bowed his head and cried even harder. He embraced Sylvie back and in a cracking voice said, "My mom..."

"I know," said Sylvie.

"She just vanished, disappeared."

"We should tell the cops."

"Wait until I check my dad's house."

Sylvie's stomach sank as she said, "Oh no, not again."

"That's why I haven't called Chico or the SLPD yet. I know how to check the house without setting dad off or cluing him in on anything."

Sylvie rubbed her face and shook her head at the prospect of sneaking into Carlton Thomas's house again.

"Uh, we have twenty minutes until he gets off work. We have only twenty minutes."

"Same thing as before?"

"Yeah."

"Shit."

"I know, sweetheart, I'm sorry, but I know where to look."

Sylvie looked resigned and said, "We'd better hurry then."

Bert drove the alleys like wildfire all the way to his dad's house. They got in the same way they did before but went around and peered in every window outside before Bert crawled in his bedroom window, deliberately left unlocked so he could get back and forth easily. He checked every room in the house, the attic and unlocked the padlock to the basement, leaping down the stairs.

His mother was nowhere to be found. There was no sign of her anywhere. He quickly ran up to the first floor and re-locked the basement. That was when Sylvie called him on his cell (set to vibrate, not ring) and warned him that his father had just pulled up to the house.

Shit, shit, shit!...he thought nervously as he panicked, ran into his bedroom and dove under the bed. He could hear his dad's footsteps echoing loudly on the wood floors. As usual, Carlton went straight to his own bedroom, opened a closet and walked into the bathroom, starting the shower.

When Bert was sure that his dad was safely in the shower and he could smell his shampoo, he quickly re-emerged from under the bed, grabbed a book he had wanted and jumped out the window, closing it quietly, removing the milk crate. Sylvie brushed away the impression the milk crate had made in the dirt. They ran around the corner to Bert's car hidden in an alley. Sylvie looked at him expectantly as he started the engine.

"No sign of my mom," he said worriedly as a tear rolled down his cheek. I can't figure out why she hasn't called! It's not like her. If dad kidnapped her, he isn't holding her in the house." Bert slapped his thigh in frustration. "He's been known to do worse than kidnapping."

"I think it's time we told the cops," commented Sylvie, sympathetically.

"Yeah. I'll talk to Chico and Sheila about it. I'm not even sure my father knew Liz was in town. But, meeting her for lunch outside was a really stupid idea. I blame myself for not stopping her." Bert hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand.

"I tried to stop her, myself," said Sylvie. "But she was tired of staying inside and wanted to act normally. She just laughed and walked out the door, saying that she would be careful and take the alleyways. She also said she'd call and let me know she was all right--but she didn't."

As soon as the two teenagers got to the Almonte Ranch, they noticed that Chico's patrol car was parked in the back and Niño was in his

pasture with the chestnut mare, Chica. Bert and Sylvie ran into the house.

Chico was in the kitchen, still in uniform. He said, "Whoa, you two! What's up? Why the hurry?" Noticing the concern written all over their faces, he exclaimed, "What's wrong?!"

Bert grabbed Chico's hand and said, "My mom's gone! We can't find her anywhere. She went out today to meet me for lunch at Zinski's, but she didn't make it and hasn't called.

"I know it was stupid, but Sylvie and I both couldn't stop her, and she was tired of having to stay inside like a prisoner. She wanted to behave in a normal way. She was going to go out by herself, so I thought it was safer if she at least went out to meet me."

Chico shook his head. He said, sitting down and resting his head on his hands, "Well, not only is it too early to declare a missing person, but Officer Thomas will probably be under suspicion due to his past behavior. Besides, as a missing person, Carlton will know about it. We can, though, start an intensive undercover operation so he will be outside of the loop. Everyone will be warned to keep their information and the covert action to themselves.

"Sheila is especially good at doing computer tracking, just in case Liza left an electronic trail anywhere. We have computer technicians, but she coordinates them, too."

Chico paused and looked Bert squarely in the eyes. "We'll find her, Bert. I'll call the station as soon as I eat. I've had no meals all day. By then Sheila will be home and we can work together on this." Chico waved at Sylvie and went on, "You two have dinner? It's Cisco's world class chili, guacamole and fresh corn tortillas."

Both teenagers shook their head. Bert said, "I just can't eat right now. Save some, I'll have it later. Chili is better the next day anyway."

"For you, Bert, I will. No one else would dare ask us to save Cisco's chili in this house. But I'll put some in a dish right now. As soon as I have any news about the SLPD investigation into your mother's disappearance, I will let you know. Sheila will probably want to talk to you, too."

Bert reached over and hugged Chico, saying, "Thank you, man. You're the best, my brother." He took Sylvie's hand and they both climbed the stairs to Bert's room.

__________

Carlton felt nervous, so he kept his mind on his poker strategy, this calmed him. He felt like the cops were on him and he needed to divert his attention to something positive. Keep it small, bid low and keep on playing. His poker strategy fed his intellect even outside of the gaming tables. You may not become a famous poker player, but you'll win.

You won't lose too much folding, just don't bid too high. It helps your bluff. You want to make money not lose it.

Keep your face blank. Genius stays quiet. Do whatever you want but be silent. Count, always count. You don't have a partner. You don't need a partner. (Look what happened to the last prospective partner!)

He was, Carlton said to himself as he puffed his chest out, he was King Poker! No one knew. What did it matter if no one knew how much he had won? It was better to slink from table to table, than to be noticed as being a great player. It was the money and the bluff. Always the bluff.

Thomas prided himself on his inscrutable eyes that always told the observer 'do not try and read me'. This made him sail at the poker table. These secrets of success. The secrets of his success at poker spilled over into his everyday life.

Well, he was, in his own estimation something--and something big. He was a king in his own eyes. And his own eyes were all that counted for him. This was his attitude towards the local High Rollers Casino. And any other poker game. It could also be called a life philosophy.

But today, Friday, he did not go to High Rollers as usual, not even to play slot machines. When he did not go there, he worked out on his own lift table at home, pushing the limit on his weightlifting. This weekend he went swimming at the California Spa after using his machines at home and his favorites at the Spa. Then he went to the local shooting range to practice. He had added the exercise room at the California because they had new rowing and complex exercise machines facing their open wall of windows looking out over the Mississippi. He liked those machines because they pushed the limits on his legs and arms at the same time.

He had seen Asia Reynolds on Silver Lake Boulevard, when he on his beat this afternoon, and she had the nerve to go at him like a wildcat, warning him to keep his distance from her sappy kid niece, Sylvia, whom he hadn't seen for a week and could barely recognize. He knew Sylvia was sweet on his son and he reserved the right to keep an eye on her for that reason. After all, his son belonged to him. She was not going to get in his way just because her aunt was famous for her weird liberal politics and poking her nose into other people's business where it didn't belong.

Why, he had even heard she had the local cops arrest more than a couple men with her snooping and connections with the SLPD. Now, he knew, she had spearheaded that change in Bertram's lifestyle when her lesbian friend, Major Day had stayed at her house. Of course, no one had told him the Day woman was a lesbian, but he assumed that any woman who stayed in the military that long and wasn't married or had children was a queer.

Queers were not his thing--especially female queers. No one had to tell him what to think about that. They had better not with their stupid, stuttering Silver Lake liberalism. He went on ranting silently to himself as he worked out.

Major Day's butt-in-ski advice had convinced his son to leave his own dad behind for the Air Force. Although Sylvia Reynolds seemed to be her son's girlfriend, he had wondered about her, too. He had not known Bert to have a girl since high school. And it didn't mean she wasn't a queer too. What to speak of Asia, herself, who was never seen in the company of a man unless it was those Mexicans over at the Almonte's ranch. No one had to tell him these things, he just knew. And he felt good about his point of view no matter what anyone else thought about it. He knew he made a lot of assumptions about

people he didn't like. That was how he won at poker. Why change personalities during the day? Wasn't that what wearing a cop's uniform meant? That he was pure and normal?

All this made sense to him. Who else would take his son from him except someone like that? They'll probably turn Bert into a queer, too. Although, Carlton smirked as he thought of this, he doubted that Bert would lean towards that direction. He knew his son better than that. He had prior knowledge. No one knew Bertram as well as he did.

He bent his body into his workout machine and the sweat poured off his back. It felt good to take his feelings of anger and injustice towards what he felt was an unrighteous way of life out on this machinery. It did not bother him that a wealthy homosexual, Tobias Smart, owned the place he liked to work out at. After all, he was a guy, and to his mind, guys were usually okay, no matter what they were. He thought, guys get lonely and need someone, who cares who they might want?

But women were not the same to his mind. They needed to listen to some man and get directions from him. That was why he and Bert's mother did not stay together. She would never listen to him. She always had her own ideas. He didn't care if people called him a 'what was the word?' - misogynist. That was a complicated philosophy and he sort of liked it. A guy that does not like women. Sort of like himself.

__________

After Asia had gotten home from St. Louis, especially after her unhappy meeting on the street with Carlton Thomas, she felt drained and exhausted. There was just something about that man that made her pale when she met him. Then, Sylvie had freaked her out even more by telling her that Liza Jones had gone out to meet her son alone when she had been warned not to.

Damn! Why now? Why had Liza not been satisfied just to meet her son in Asia's home? On top of her tiredness, Asia felt seriously worried over Liza's safety.

In St. Louis, Asia had spent what seemed like 24 hours straight playing clips of her DVD A Gift of Life and giving local and national news interviews and interviews on various talk shows. She had gotten invitations from all over the country--and all over the world, booking interview dates in Los Angeles, Toronto and London, to name just a few. She could see the day was coming where she would have to book teleconferences from Elise's sound studio at KANU.

As per usual, just thinking of Elise Jamison made the landline in her kitchen ring. She picked up the receiver and heard Elise's voice on the other end of the line. Elise had everything in her karma to be a good news reporter...great instincts, unfathomable intuition, and she could write too. Besides which, she was an incredible gossip, and could talk her head off.

"Asia! Did you hear the latest scooby on that Peanuthead Carlton Thomas?" exploded Elise

in lieu of saying, 'hello.' "His ex has disappeared, and the cops have a covert operation in place to find her. I swear one day they are going to get that dude but good!" Elise took a breath. Asia coughed.

Asia responded with a tremor, "Uh, no. I haven't heard anything like that. I just got home. I saw Officer Thomas on Silver Lake Boulevard and told him to stay away from my niece. And gave it to him. Told him but good. In no uncertain terms." She paused. "Liz is missing? No one told me." Asia now felt justified about all the worry she had felt after Sylvie had told her that Liza had gone out alone.

"Yeah. Apparently she lost her cell phone. No one has been able to call her, either," said Elise.

All the excitement over Asia's new documentary, plus this horrid news was too much. She could not catch her breath and started to choke as she said, "Elise, you have this habit of jumping on me and shocking me. I knew Liza had gone out to meet Bert against our better judgments and warnings, but not that the police felt that she was in need of help. How did Liz disappear? What happened?"

"Jumping on you! Really Asia! When have I ever?!"

"Lots! Like now! You even knocked me down once!"

"I never hurt you. I would never hurt you. That was a joke..." Elise sounded a little hurt, for a thick-skinned news reporter.

"Aww...don't worry about it. I'm just tired. I've been working the whole time I was gone. Don't get that way...I wuv you always, Elise. How are my babies?"

Elise brightened up. "They are just fine. They are getting so big; I can hardly move. I feel like a baby elephant. Or a whale when I take a bath." She paused dramatically. "So, I am guessing you haven't spoken to your niece in the last hour."

"No, my suitcase is still sitting on the kitchen floor. She went out to find Bert and Liz but didn't say anything about Liz having gone missing. I haven't even unpacked yet."

"Sylvie's up-to-date on everything, so speak to her as soon as you can. You need to know. I have been keeping tabs on Officer Thomas and even spoke to him on the street once. I do not like to talk to him at all, but we somehow got into a conversation about his opinions on gay people. Damn! He is a real juicy piece of work.

He is convinced that Major Day is a lesbian and that she deliberately contrived a scheme to take his son away from him. He went on and on about it, not even a trace of shame or hesitation in his speech. That guy needs to be fired and get some help. I actually think he told me because he thought I might put it on the news.

Seriously... he seems to have no interest in the truth. Whether or not someone is gay is not my business. And not newsworthy as far as I'm concerned. Lesbians don't bother me. Everybody is everybody. I make my own choices about who I like or want to hang out with. I am not gay or anything, but high school without the birth control pill can sway a few girls at least for a while."

"...Major Day? The nerve! Well, even if he was correct, which he isn't, a big so what! That is not his business. And that would not determine my life friendships with anyone. I just spoke to him also, but I gave him 'what-fer' and told him to stay away from Sylvie. It worries me that she is in love with his son. I can't believe he is back on the street as a cop again. Chief Ackerman needs to give him a partner at least. I think the guy is dangerous."

"You are not the only one who feels that way. We do have a gay population. He does not seem safe walking among them. You should be careful not to antagonize him. Until we can convince Buzzy Ackerman to fire him, we have to deal with care."

"Yeah, Elise, I know. Normally, I would not be so up front. My profession usually makes me into a diplomat. But I am sensitive about Sylvie. She has come so far this summer. She has matured so quickly and beautifully. I like Bert Thomas a great deal, but why does such a beautiful boy have such a horrid father?!"

Asia turned around and saw that her niece had sidled into the kitchen quietly without her knowing it and was listening with a half smile on her pretty face. When she saw that her aunt had seen her, she smiled broadly and went over and gave her a hug.

"Elise, Sylvie just walked in. I have to talk to her. Thanks for the heads up. I will call you later."

"Okay, sis. Just stay away from that monster."

"I'll try. Bye, now..."

"Bye, sweetie."

|  |

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# Chapter Nine

--------

SYLVIE'S CELL PHONE rang as she embraced her aunt. After her harrowing journey with Bert, she was overwhelmed with gratitude at having such a strong mentor. She fumbled at her backpack and pulled away from her aunt, shedding a few inadvertent tears. She dropped her cell on the kitchen floor and swore as she finally got hold of the slippery device and clicked the answer tab.

"Hello?"

It was Bert. He was excited and sounded exuberant. "We found mom!" he shouted into the phone.

Sylvie laughed and rubbed her ear. "Where was she?" she shouted back.

"She took the Greyhound back to Dallas! She said she saw my dad and got frightened and ran right to the bus station and got on the next bus home. She lost her cell phone on the way to the station. She said it must have dropped out of her pocket when she was running from dad."

"Oh, god! I am so glad she is okay! We'll have to send her things to her."

"Yeah. She is fine. She said dad tried to follow her, but she got away. This is not the first time she had to run from him. She also said to keep her things at Asia's, if that is okay with Asia, because she can always use them when she comes back. If we have to meet her in Colorado, then we can bring her stuff there. Sheila Rodriguez found her on the police computer about the same time she bought a new cell phone and called me, so the Silver Lake police know about everything."

"It is too bad she had to leave so soon. I really got to like your mother."

"Yeah, but I am so very relieved she is okay. I swear I am going to get my dad one of these days."

"When we are safe."

"You know that."

"I love you, Bert."

"I love you too, Sylvie. I will see you after your work at Frankie's rescue ranch tomorrow. I'll meet you at Asia's"

"Okay."

__________

Early the next morning before Sylvie went to work, she let Pumpkin and the two goats out into Asia's newly repaired small pasture area to graze and play. And play they did. Sylvie was in a great mood after discovering that Liz Jones was safe at home. Her mood must have translated to the animals, because they romped and played with a huge, red plastic inflated ball Asia had put there for the donkey. Fuzzy Bud was too small to feel safe while the larger animals romped and rough housed around with the ball, but she dozed off to the side, past the electric fence. Zucchini dove right in, though, not to be left out of the fun.

Much to Asia's delight, later, she also dove into the small pond that bordered the pasture and lead everyone else into the water, except little Fuzzy. Not the worst idea, they had a great time and got a little wash as well.

Junior, the not-so-little St. Bernard puppy, usually accompanied Sylvie to work. Junior was looking less and less like a baby every day. Today, Bert came over and drove them both to work. He stuck around for a while and helped clean the rescue horse stalls, gave the horses fresh water, some supplementary feed, and fresh hay.

Mucking out stalls was not the most popular job, but a very necessary one. Sylvie had discovered that Bert had another talent. He was a good horse trainer and rode very well. Every time he was able to saddle up, he would give Sylvie - the Chicago city slicker - a gentle riding lesson.

She was ecstatic about learning to ride and begged Frankie to let her have a horse to get to and from work when she didn't use Pumpkin and the donkey cart.

Asia started running her Rototiller to turn her soil over. She also started sorting seeds from the previous years. She kept seeds from her best plants and used those to re-plant every year. That saved money on seed and gave her some nice results, as well. She went in the house to eat breakfast after Rototilling.

After a very rain-soaked spring, most of the farmers had started planting late, if they were wise. Corn was being planted everywhere. Elise put her bees outside and ordered new ones to replace those that had died. She produced the local delicacy, Snuggles Organic Raw Honey. She was the Snuggles Honey lady as well as being locally famous for her late night news show The Mississippi River Journal. Like most of Asia's childhood friends from Silver Lake, she was multi-talented.

As Asia started preparing breakfast and poured a large bowl of granola, she heard screaming and yelling out behind her barn. It startled her, especially after all the frantic talk about Liz Jones' disappearance and how violent Officer Thomas was.

She grabbed the handgun she had loaded and ready in the kitchen. Since Carlton Thomas had broken into Bert Thomas's room at the Almonte ranch, and Liza Jones had come to stay with her, she felt that several loaded and stashed guns hidden around her house were necessary for self-protection.

She took the safety off her gun and walked cautiously out to her driveway. She sidled up close against an outside wall of her barn, getting angrier by the minute as she heard Pumpkin's running hooves, loud braying and the loud noises of the goats. To her surprise, Zucchini and Fuzzy Bud both ignored her.

As she reached a corner of her building, she pointed the gun in front of her, both arms extended, SWAT style. She was even more upset when she heard laughter. The heavy wind made the voices she heard sound distorted. She did not recognize them.

How dare they! she thought indignantly. It sounded like trespassing teenagers. She was glad it was not adults. She peeked ahead of her around the corner. She sighed deeply in relief and laughed.

It was just Harry-the-Hippie Skylar and his girlfriend Sage Sommers playing catch-me-if-you-can with Pumpkin, Thelma, Louise and a bounding, happy Zucchini. Running around in circles in her field, the two friends chased her livestock and kicked the huge, red inflated ball she had put there for her animals.

Asia quickly put the safety back on her gun and stuffed it in her jacket pocket. She yelled a hello at the two young people, waved and invited them in for a cold drink after they were done playing. She couldn't believe she was so on edge with the Thomas affair. But that was the way it was when she felt so defensive about her home. Instead, now, she took out her cell phone and took a video of Harry and Sage playing with her livestock.

She relaxed and walked back into her house and got herself a big bowl of granola, putting blueberries soaked in Almonte Creamery organic milk and crowned with Snuggles raw buckwheat honey on the top. After finishing a cup of cold spearmint tea, she figured Harry and Sage must have gone, perhaps to play street music (their day job) in Silver Lake's commercial district.

She would see them later as she usually did, especially since they lived rent-free in her cabin during the summer. She thought of bringing them some of Harry's favorite cookies - organic cinnamon oatmeal-raisin.

Her phone rang as she washed her dishes. She dried her hands on a dish towel as she reached for her landline. The melodic, deep voice of Dr. Rainier Voss greeted her ears much to her surprise.

The central office of the FBI in Quantico, Virginia had contacted him because of his involvement in Silver Lake with the hacking invasion of the previous winter. So, they wanted to use his knowledge of the town and its people for this investigation as well. He was concerned, along with the Federal Bureau,

about exactly who Carlton Thomas was and his previous reputation that crossed state lines in the Midwest. Dr. Voss was being sent around to Carlton Thomas's previous homes to try and piece together Thomas's back story that was presently sort of scant in terms of his records.

He was asking Asia if he could stay with her again while he tracked all the information about Thomas that he could and pieced it together while shadowing him around town. It was a dangerous assignment, but he knew he could be quiet about his activities and hopefully be way under the radar in terms of Thomas's awareness, since the man had never met him and did not suspect that a national police agency was investigating him.

Asia, of course, said 'yes'. She had had a huge crush on Rainier Voss since his initial visit during the Annual Silver Lake snowmobile race last winter. He was an unusually considerate house guest (who could cook), a great pianist and a warm kind of guy. All while being one of the most brilliant human beings she had ever met. His past was that of an anti-government computer hacker who joined the FBI at one point and changed sides rather than go to prison. After that he earned a physics degree at a prestigious university and became a NASA computer expert. Now, again, he would join his old colleagues trying to track down Officer Thomas's seemingly lost past.

He was not an agent of the bureau presently - or any other security agency. His present career was at NASA running a computer department for them. Currently, his hobby and project for NASA was high altitude photos of different parts of the earth. After promising to bring some of his photos with him, he accepted Asia's invitation to stay with her after he finished his research on Carlton Thomas in Indiana. He was presently researching him in a couple of other Midwestern states, where he had to interview Thomas's old neighbors.

So far, in Wisconsin, Dr. Voss had found several things in Carlton's past that should have prevented him from working as a policeman, especially in a high volume, international tourist area like Silver Lake. It was odd that even an old high school buddy like local police Chief Buzzy Ackerman would have overlooked Carlton's previous reputation. It was bad enough to stop even an old friend. But, obviously, it hadn't. Ackerman had hired him anyway. Rainier felt that Buzzy Ackerman felt sorry for Thomas to the point that it endangered the lives of others.

It was not as if there were not any other candidates for patrolmen/women's jobs. There were always plenty of applicants, even among Central Illinois University's criminology graduates. In fact, some of their graduates made the best local cops the town had ever seen. Why hire someone so close to the criminal element? With such an incredibly poor record? True, so far, all Voss could find was the fact that Thomas's old neighbors thought he was odd, suspicious and that he was scary and used that to harass those he did not like around their towns, like he did in Silver Lake. These were facts that Dr. Rainier Voss was sent to investigate.

Voss was sure he would find more of the same in the two counties in Indiana that Officer Thomas had worked and lived in. He had dug up damaging tales of behavior problems from Thomas's high school days (the era in which Chief of Police, Buzzy Ackerman had been his friend). He had even found information on Thomas's grammar school days which sounded like the making of a second generation

psychopath.

The local towns his family lived in tried to get him psyche help, but even with counseling, Thomas seemed no better. He was a bully who was abused physically by his own single father, among many other tales of violence in the young Thomas's life. Voss was sure Carlton Thomas should not be in the law enforcement business. He ended his explanation of his new assignment from the FBI with a promise to call Asia again as soon as he had time to do so. And a warning to stay as far away from Carlton Thomas as she could.

Asia hung up the phone with a tiny, excited smile on her face. She rubbed her hands together and climbed the stairs to her third floor attic, preparing to go through her storage trunk filled with her old piano scores from the music school she had first attended before she had gone into filming. She would stack her choices in the seat of her beautiful new Yamaha baby grand, hoping Dr. Voss would play them for her.

She opened windows in the attic and let the fresh air clear the stuffy atmosphere of her unfinished third floor as she sorted through some of the old, yellowed piano music. She sorted out her favorites, whether or not she could play them herself. She had also stacked all of her Daniel Barenboim concert CDs off to the side of the sheet music. She dusted them off with the palm of her hand, loaded all the music and CDs into a lightweight wooden packing box with hemp handles and carried it to the first floor down the three flights of stairs with a lilt in her step.

The only thing Asia loved more than making a fine, useful documentary and her dog, was an evening of beautifully played classical piano. It made her mind release all the tensions of the day and float on a breeze of contentment. Her now dear friend, Rainier Voss was a brilliant pianist. She had studied piano, herself, in college, but could never reach the heights that Rainer had - although she had many piano scores still memorized competently in her head if not in her hands. Rainer could easily have chosen to be a professional concert pianist, but instead chose a lifetime of service.

One might call her feelings for Rainier love or even infatuation. One might. And that would be very close to the truth. Her requirements for a long-lived relationship usually included competence in one's profession and a fascinating lifestyle. Voss took everything one step further and added the fact that he was an unusually considerate person. He cooked, cleaned, ate vegetarian and also cared for her animal dependents with obvious enjoyment.

As if on cue, Zucchini scratched at Asia's kitchen door and pulled her out of her luscious daydreams of true love to another kind of love. She walked to the door and let the dog in.

"Done playing with the other girls for today, Zookie?" asked Asia in a soft voice. She leaned over and smoothed Zucchini's soft, shiny hair.

Then Zookie did something unusual. She grabbed Asia's sleeve and began to pull her to the door. Asia had to go and bring the donkey and goats into the barn and feed Fuzzy and everyone else. It was Sylvie's late day at work, so Asia had to double up on her film editing, getting a guest room ready for Rainier and taking care of her pet menagerie.

Zookie seemed out of sorts and anxious. She began to whine a little, so Asia tried to hurry as the dog dragged her forward. When they reached the pasture, Zookie let go of her sleeve and rushed over to Thelma who was lying prone in the grass, panting heavily. Asia ran over to her and patted her on her side, cooing at her and trying to give her some verbal comfort. When she could not get the small nanny to stand up, she got out her cell phone and called the vet, Dr. Steiner, who was a full range veterinarian and worked with dogs, cats, farm animals and a few wild species as well.

The vet said she would be right over and to try and lift Thelma and put her either indoors or in some shade, offer her cool drinking water and try and wet her down just a little. Asia thought maybe Thelma was suffering from heat stroke. Louise seemed just fine and perky as usual, and Pumpkin seemed to have no complaints except to be a little concerned about Thelma. She would nuzzle her from time to time. But Thelma did not get up and would not respond other than to close her eyes in resignation. Thelma drank a few sips of water from the bowl Asia offered her.

Asia lifted her up. She seemed a bit heavier than usual, but Asia had noticed that she had been gaining weight lately. The Chihuahua and donkey followed Asia, the curious Zucchini and little Thelma (resting in Asia's arms) into the much shadier and cooler barn. Asia was panting from exertion when she lay Thelma down on a soft, clean horse blanket.

"Whew, Thelma!" she exclaimed as she patted the panting goat down with a little water. "You must have gained ten pounds! Look at how fat you've gotten. The doctor will have to put you on a diet. You weigh a ton!" With that, Thelma let out a loud noise and Louise came running over to her side. The two goats were like Fuzz and Pumpkin - inseparable. Louise lay down next to Thelma and rested her chin on the other goat. Asia had always assumed that they were sisters. They looked so much alike and were obviously very devoted to each other.

Punkin, being the ultimate in kind-hearted donkeys, came over, too, just to take a peek at her sister goats. The little Chihuahua fell asleep almost immediately when she entered the much cooler barn. She lay snoring in one of the stalls on her own blanket after the long play day in the hot summer sun.

Dr. Hannah Steiner walked into the barn quietly, smiling at the calm group of animals encircling Asia and her goats. Asia startled slightly when she looked up and saw the doctor.

"Well, well. You have a pregnant little nanny there. Maybe so much hot sun and excitement is not such a good thing for that goat right now."

Asia looked up at the vet, shocked. She said, "Pregnant?! But how? Thelma and Louise are both girls!"

"Let me take a look at this other goat. I suspect Louise is actually Louis." As the vet turned Louise over on her back, she let out a laugh.

"What's the matter?" asked Asia, concerned and looking at Louise with feelings of affectionate love and caring.

"You have a little billy goat here. Louise is a boy! I don't know how you could have missed it, maybe it was his long belly hair, but Louise - ah, err, Louis - is definitely not a girl. And he is, I think, going to be a father in a couple of days or so. I will tell you how to care for Thelma so that she will stay healthy. There are a few supplements I will give you so that the kid or kids will be healthy. Thelma is very young, so she should not have a problem giving birth alone. If you catch her going into labor,

though, call me, and I will assist the birth."

The vet looked up from the little nanny goat and said, "Thelma is fine, actually. But she should not have too much exercise and limit her exposure to the hot sun. Maybe you can tie her to the barn so she can go inside when she gets too hot. And make sure she has water at all times."

"Of course," responded Asia. She went on, "Zucchini came and got me, although I was already on my way out to the pasture to round them up and lead them back into the barn. They have a big trough out there that is full if fresh water at all times. It was time for an afternoon feed anyway."

"I always did like your Zucchini. She is a very special dog," answered Dr. Steiner, grinning at Zookie.

"She sure is," commented Asia, hugging the big Husky to her side and scratching her head, saying, "Good girl. That's the way, Zookie..." Zookie wagged her large, curled tail kicking up a small, pleasant breeze.

Dr. Steiner said, "How would you feel about bringing Thelma inside into your air conditioning? It must be over 90 degrees Fahrenheit out here. She still hasn't stopped panting. Let's try and relieve her sensitivity to this heat."

"Um, sure, Dr. Steiner. The kitchen is nice and cool, and Zucchini and Thelma get along just fine. I don't know how Louise (I mean Louis) and Punkin will take it though."

"Let's try," said Dr. Steiner, lifting Thelma up with effort and walking to the barn entrance with the little nanny goat in her arms. Louis, the donkey and Zucchini followed her. Fuzzy was still snoring loudly on her blanket. For a tiny Chihuahua, she snored as loud as a 185 lb. adult man. Asia and Hannah Steiner both chuckled as they passed the stall where the little dog slept.

"Nothing like the hot summer sun to knock an animal out," said Dr. Steiner with another laugh.

Pumpkin hesitated at the barn doors, but Louis tried to continue following the two women. Asia gently restrained him by his collar and hooked him to the dog lead at the door. He did try and put up a fuss but getting Thelma into the cooler area of the house was their priority. Zookie led the way and waited inside Asia's covered back porch.

The little nanny tried to fidget and get down from Hannah Steiner's arms, obviously to go back to her mate, Louis (quickly becoming "Satchmo"), but was still too small to fight Hannah's trained, strong arms.

They got the little nanny safely into the kitchen. Asia put up her child-safe gate which she used to sequester animals in her kitchen and sometimes used to block off her staircase to the upper floors when she had toddlers in the house. Thelma skittered around the slick ceramic tiles on the kitchen floor at first, then settled down on Zucchini's dog bed with a contented sigh. Zookie generously lay down beside her and licked her until she fell into an exhausted doze.

__________

Lover's lane in Silver Lake, despite being located near a sand pit, overlooked the Mississippi river and was a spectacular vantage for the hot air balloon rides, hang gliders and parachutes. The beautiful fresh air and cooler breezes off the rolling river was a divine respite from a hot summer day. The early evening homecoming of the tourist yachts, paddlewheelers and sailboats was set against the soft, orange-golden glow of the setting sun. It was the romantic spot of Silver Lake.

The town park where Elton and Elise Jamison got engaged was okay for a short kiss, but the old sand mine was better for that lengthy after-dinner, intimate conversation that lasted for hours and led to something serious. It also had a separate gay-friendly area.

For those who could not afford a hotel/motel room and those experiencing 'love at first sight' there was a small tenting/RV area complete with covered Bar-B-Que grills, picnic benches and porta-pottis. One would need to shower at the California Spa, though.

For those who could not afford a hotel/motel room and those experiencing 'love at first sight' there was a small tenting/RV area complete with covered Bar-B-Que grills, picnic benches and porta-potties. One would need to shower at the California Spa, though.

This tranquil, natural setting was nestled inside two small cedar forests with a seldom traveled dirt road and the Mississippi on the remaining two sides. It was so attractive that young families also went there to picnic on summer holidays and weekends such as the fourth of July. To top it all off, it was a great place to view the fireworks from Missouri and Illinois.

It was on such a beatific weekend, among the rough housing children playing in the sand and running around on the hills overlooking the mighty Mississippi, that the fenced off area surrounding one of the several quicksand sinkholes spewed forth an odd-looking shape onto its more stable bank. The only witnesses were a couple of children playing catch a little too close to the quicksand - on purpose, since it was a local dare to lose a toy or two in the mysterious whirlpools and to try and fish the frisbee, ball or kite out with a stick, while hanging safely onto a fence post, although it was well-known among the locals that an object could resurface at any time. But one might have to wait a couple of weeks to see that happen.

The children playing there this weekend poked at the sand-covered form and pushed it around on the surface of the quicksand until one child realized what a putrid smell the large object gave off. Most of the kids thought it was an unfortunate alligator, super-sized catfish or large dog. And it really did stink.

One cautious little girl in pink shorts and a matching frilly pink top ran to get her father, mainly because she noticed that the poor animal that had gotten trapped in the sinkhole had some tattered clothing on it. She rightfully deduced that the body might be that of a human being. She screamed out her observations and ran to get her parent regardless of the neigh-saying ridicule thrown at her from her male playmates.

Her horrified father agreed that the surfacing body did indeed have clothing on it and chased the children back into a field, telling them not to go anywhere near the pools of quicksand. He quickly got on his cell phone and called the local police.

__________

Carlton Thomas had been seen with Jack Baxter (owner of the abandoned Porsche formerly parked at the High Rollers Casino) right before he went missing. The evidence against Thomas was still too thin to do more than put him under local surveillance. Elise Jamison, the only witness to come forward thus far, was a good reliable, professional source. She had seen both men clearly playing poker together and leaving the casino in each other's company, but no one had seen both men driving away in Thomas's vintage red MG.

Assumptions were not enough, although the Silver Lake police were individually highly suspicious of Officer Thomas and he was not well liked by them. A subtle heat was observable around the station and on the street when another officer was around Thomas.

The body exhumed from the sand pit was positively identified as Jack Baxter of Chicago. His driver's license was still in one of his shirt pockets, although no wallet was found. Putting his license in his shirt pocket was perhaps a safety measure when one carried large amounts of cash won in poker games. The death was ruled a homicide and possible theft-mugging. The man was a known gambler with no close living relatives. He earned a living at online poker and local casinos mostly in Chicago and Gary, Indiana. He was not hurting for money and did well at the tables. He paid his taxes and had no police record. It was noted that there was no cash on him despite his record of winning at High Rollers the night he went missing.

A group of Silver Lake police was growing more and more uncomfortable with the presence of Patrolman Carlton Thomas. They were putting pressure on their Chief Buzzy Ackerman to put him on any kind of leave he could legally muster. But Ackerman presently felt that evidence of Thomas being involved directly with the homicide of Jack Baxter was too flimsy for either an arrest or forced leave of absence. He did, however, call Officer Thomas in for a private conference.

As soon as Bert Thomas got the news of the sand pit situation, he was absolutely sure that his father was involved. The fact that another cop said that Carlton Thomas was seen using a semi-automatic pistol for target practice up there, just made Bert more suspicious that his dad had been the perpetrator, especially since his father had purportedly lost money to the dead man and they had been seen leaving the casino together. Bert knew his dad had a collection of automatic weaponry that he was rather proud of. Perhaps Bert's intuitions were just hunches, but he had a lot of experience with his dad.

He commented to Sylvie, as they practiced their marksmanship on the Almonte target range, that, "This would not be the first time..." that Bert had thought his dad had killed someone. Especially over something trivial like a card game. He knew his dad's temper was legendary and losing money gracefully while gambling was not a strength that was evident in his father's character.

Bert shivered and his hand trembled as he pointed his gun at a target. He scared Sylvie with his apprehension. Usually, Bert was very self-controlled, even in tense situations. "You see," he had said to his girlfriend, hoarsely. "That is why I am so careful around my dad. I don't trust his temper. But I swear they'll nail him eventually. I know the Silver Lake police are watching him closely, even though he hasn't been arrested for anything...I think he will be.

Hopefully soon."

Sylvie placed a well-aimed bullet smack in the heart region in one of the Almonte human outline targets.

"Gotcha!" she exclaimed and hugged Bert in exultation at her improving aim.

"They say your aunt is a fine shot. You're going to be just like her. Good shot, Sylvie!"

__________

Late that night, around midnight, before the moon had risen and the clouds were blown away exposing a thousand points of light in the inky sky, a loud complaint shook Asia Reynolds' large Victorian home. Zucchini began to bark loudly and nervously from Asia's bedroom. The dog leaped down the stairs and jumped over the child gate into the kitchen area.

Thelma lay bleating painfully on her blanket. Zucchini licked her to calm her down, but Thelma continued to bleat loudly, regardless of the kind dog's attention.

Asia ran downstairs with her cell in her hand and was greeted at the entrance to the kitchen with what she had been expecting. Thelma had just given birth to two tiny, bloody twin kids. She and Zucchini were in the process of cleaning the new babies. Asia weighed in with wet and dry towels from her clean rag bin in the basement.

When Asia called the vet on her cell, Dr. Steiner said that she had been expecting the call, that Thelma was not the only animal mother giving birth at this time. It was birthing season at all the local farms and ranches, so she was very busy. She said she would be right over to examine the two new babies and their mother.

Another couple of loud calls came from the barn. Pumpkin, apparently, was also concerned, along with the new kids' father, Satchmo.

Swearing she saw at least one pair of transparent wings on one of the cutest little animals she had ever seen (especially after she had been cleaned up), she named that baby goat Tinkerbell. The other she tentatively named Smidgen, because she was the smallest of the two.

Soon, they would be true to their heritage and be climbing all over everything. Goats are natural climbers and jumpers. She decided she would need to call Jeremiah and Jedidiah Simmons to build a mini barn in the pasture, complete with wooden platforms for the new kids to climb and play on. No hay bales because of the mites in damp hay. Pumpkin would be delighted at the expanded goat family. Goats and donkeys were legendary good friends. Zucchini was already cuddling close to the newly washed kids.

In the middle of this symphonic racket, Sylvie stumbled down the stairs in her pajamas, scratching her head and wondering at the noise. She walked in just as Dr. Steiner made sure the two babies were nursing from Thelma. She laughed, delighted at the sight of the new baby goats. She joined Hannah Steiner and her aunt as they washed the kitchen together, going out to the barn with a few of last year's apples to give Pumpkin and Satchmo (Louis/Louise) as treats. Sylvie mustered up some early morning strength and gave the donkey and goat daddy a good brushing to try and quiet them down until the new little goat family was returned to their midst.

They had noticed that Smidgen, the smallest of the two female kids, had pretty dark markings from Satchmo, and Tinkerbell was almost completely white with the same markings in a ghostly light gray like her mother. Sylvie was enamored of the two new goat babies.

She told Dr. Steiner and her aunt that Frankie had just adopted several baby ducks and chicks that were unwanted by a local farmer. She begged her aunt to adopt them so that she could raise them with Tinkerbell and Smidge. Asia said yes to Sylvie's great delight. She promised to bring the ducklings and chicks home from work as soon as she could.

Asia just shook her head and laughed at the transformation that a few animal babies could make in her niece. Outside of her new boyfriend and ambitions to attend the Air Force Academy, this was the best thing in Sylvie's new life on Asia's expanding farm. Sylvie was now a very happy young girl and didn't want to even think of leaving her aunt's place, although she knew that Bert was due to leave for Colorado Springs before her high school started up again.

She thought, maybe, her dad would let her bring a chick or duckling home with her to Chicago to ease the pain of separation. They had a big fenced in back yard. The thought made her smile to herself. Her dad owed her a favor after being gone so long.

She lay down next to the two new kids and their mother and stroked them gently as they nursed. Zucchini and Junior (who gently and happily joined the new family) were close on her other side. She giggled at the prospect of bringing home a St. Bernard and a duckling. It was crazy but she loved it.

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# Chapter Ten

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OFFICER THOMAS WAS fit to be tied. And tied was how his fellow officers would have liked to see him. He knew he was under suspicion of the homicide of Jake Whoever from the Silver Lake casino. He still didn't remember the guy's last name. He gave out parking tickets fast and furiously all along Silver Lake Boulevard, especially to gay men and that annoying radio person, Alphonsine LaDuque. He knew that his old high school pal, Buzzy Ackerman was too much of a mouse to do anything about it.

He was sort of wrong there. Chief Ackerman was both frustrated and angry at his old friend. The evidentiary connection between Thomas and the Baxter homicide was mounting day by day. It way did not help that complaints about Officer Thomas being unfair on the streets of Silver Lake were also mounting. Silver Lake had a good reputation that Ackerman was proud of and meant to carry forward.

Chief Ackerman calculated what he could do with Officer Thomas without showing his hand. He really wanted to fire him without a recommendation, but he knew what Thomas was like and did not think it was wise to play out his game this early in the department's investigation. He knew that Thomas, in his own estimation had a "borderline personality disorder", a primary symptom of which was a constant need to dominate and control others, and an overly exhibited personal ego and inflated self-worth. He wanted to have Thomas take a departmental psyche test but doubted that Thomas would do that unless it was mandated.

He also wanted to put Thomas on an extended, unpaid leave of absence, but felt that might be dangerous in terms of the officer's temper and those vulnerable to it such as his son, Sylvie Reynolds, and the entire Reynolds household. He put his chin in his hand and became lost in thought. Thomas was due for a meeting with him in a couple of hours.

As soon as Officer Thomas was notified of his scheduled meeting with Chief Ackerman, he burst into an angry rage, breaking a town bench on his beat on Silver Lake Boulevard. He would be damned if a weak, pedantic, idiot like Buzzy Ackerman would corner him with any bullshit from either the alleged abuse of his son Bert or some trumped up garbage about the body from the sand pit which he knew full well could not be traced back to him.

Even the gun he had thrown in the pit was unregistered and could not be traced to him either. So, what if he played poker with that guy? A lot of people were probably seen with him and there were others that had played with him before Carlton ever sat down at his table.

That was circumstantial and not any indication that he was involved in the so-called homicide. Would they know if that stupid guy committed suicide over some lost money at a private poker game or something? He did not consider Ackerman to have a great deal of intelligence. Regardless of his running the department, Officer Thomas did not have any respect for the Chief. Nobody told him what to do. Nobody.

When he finished his beat for the day, Carlton Thomas clocked out, changed into his civvies and banged on Chief Ackerman's gold and blue police department emblem inset in his glass door. Carlton heard the Chief say in a deep voice, "Officer Thomas, is that you? Come in. Come in..." Thomas sashayed into the Chief's office with as much arrogance as he could manage. Ackerman eyed the officer coldly and said, "Sit down, Carlton. Sit down."

Carlton said with barely disguised sarcasm and disrespect, "What is it this time, Buzzy?" The Chief swung his rotating office chair towards the Patrolman and continued, "As you might know, we have a mounting situation here in the department. This time, Carlton, the entire department has insisted that you be put on probation again."

"No work? For how long?" Carlton went on after a beat or two, "I really need that check. I have an adult son to support." Buzzy Ackerman did not want to show Thomas that he knew that he could easily support himself and his son with his poker skills and hidden savings. He had his ways and he didn't need to divulge anything to this belligerent officer. So, he was not sympathetic to Carlton's pleas of economic need.

"No. No. No. We want you to stay on the job. We cannot afford to lose manpower in the middle of our summer season."

"So, I'll be on probation while I'm working?! Or what?!"

"That's correct. You will be gun-restricted when not at work. That means you cannot carry a gun while off-duty. I would also advise you to consider deeply the use of any weapon even when on the job. Your actions will be watched closely. Your actions will also be examined on a daily basis.

"Also, I would advise you to cut down on the amount of parking tickets you are handing out. Your tickets have been clogging our court system with objections. We cannot afford to waste the judge's time. Summer is prime time for underage drinking and its consequences. We need that time to counsel our youth. We cannot afford to be curt or off-hand with them because of limited courtroom time. They are our priority, not parking tickets."

Thomas sucked in a loud breath and spurted, "Situation!? Is that what you call this? I call it transparent professional jealousy. What did I do to deserve probation or this examination as you call it?"

Buzzy tried hard to hide his smile and laughter. At which he was only partially successful. Of all the things that Carlton could have accused his officers of, professional jealousy was the most ridiculous. Carlton was a rather inefficient cop and Buzzy was itching to let him go. He bit his lower lip instead and held his breath.

"Funny?! You think that's funny?! Ever since I came back from my forced leave, the other cops have harassed me and ridiculed my work on the street. You haven't heard?

"Nobody really knows me. They don't know where I came from or how much I have suffered. I suffered my whole life. My dad locked me in the basement for days when I was a child. I don't like reading because I missed so much school that I didn't learn to read well. But I could do math and play poker. I knew that could save me, if I survived my childhood. Why worry about Jack What's-His-Name? He's fine - he's in a better world. Too dead to care.

"I did not kill him. If this is why you are looking at me, know that. I did not kill him. We were friends that played poker together, that's all.

"My son Bertram was named after the father that I wanted so much to love me. He never did, but I wanted him to. Bert doesn't even know how easy he had it. He was so free. All I ever asked was that he not leave me. But he couldn't even do that. The smallest request and he couldn't do it.

"He has it so good, why would he need the Air Force Academy? Or that stupid girlie paint set? I would give him anything he needs. Now, he is a fool. Later, after his probation ends, he will come back home to me, I am sure. I am positive he will return to me after he is through with those interfering Almontes. He probably already misses me and wants to come home. The Almontes have bribed and brain-washed him into staying there at their god-awful ranch. You say you are worried about underage drinking?"

Carlton pounded the right hand arm rest on his chair, he spoke up angrily, "Are you talking about my son?! Is that what you are using against me?! He's a good boy. He's not an alcoholic. He's been on probation all summer just for drinking! It was the fault of that little whore, Sylvie Reynolds. What do you want from the niece of a lesbian?"

The Chief looked sharply at Carlton, "Carlton! I cannot let you talk this way about one of the finest families in this town. Asia Reynolds' private life is not our business. That is slander whether or not it is true. Please watch what you are saying. Besides staying away from the Almonte ranch, the Reynolds' house and Asia's family and friends...and not carrying a gun off-duty, I feel you should take a department administered psychological testing series as soon as possible."

"Fuck!"

"Please watch what you are saying. I am still your Commanding Officer."

"Buzzy, you don't have the guts to command anyone, let alone a multi-talented guy like me."

Chief Ackerman slapped a file folder down on his desk with a sharp noise, obviously both angry and slightly confused. "Carlton, we are not high school kids anymore. If you want to continue working in my department, you have to do what I tell you to."

"Are you threatening me?"

"No, Carlton. Some of your actions and opinions do not represent the department and it is important that we determine exactly what your thinking is on some important issues. That is what the testing is for."

Carlton seemed to backtrack. "As you said, Chief, you are my C.O." The patrolman looked down, seemingly inadvertently, at his holstered service weapon and began to play with the snaps holding it in place. This move was not lost on Chief Ackerman who slid his revolver drawer open without a sound.

He felt sad. Thomas had been his close friend since high school and now he was prepared to kill him in self-defense. He was his own officer and a guy from high school who had befriended him when he was outcast as a nerd. A nerd whose hobby was (of all despised things) law enforcement. Thomas had even gone into the profession with him. They had entered the police academy together and graduated at the same time. He felt like crying. Something inside him dried any tears that might have fallen. He put his right hand silently on the hidden revolver and snapped the safety off.

Carlton's head rose from his concentration on his own revolver. He leveled his eyes so that he looked straight forward into those of Buzzy Ackerman as if to actually see what he was thinking. "No psyche test, Buzz," said Officer Thomas without blinking or moving his eyes from Buzzy's.

"You have to, Carlton. Unless you want to quit the department without a recommendation."

"You are threatening me!"

"No. No, I am requiring this test series, though. It could save your job. It could defend you, Carlton."

"What if it doesn't?"

"What if? There are worse things."

"It could dump me right out of law enforcement. If it wasn't for you, I couldn't get a position in any other police department. Only you know why. Even you can't send me away with a recommendation if I fail a psyche test. The law community would not permit it. I know that much about law administration."

"Then don't fail."

"Yeah, right. Okay. Just let me know when and where the test will be scheduled."

"Tomorrow, an hour before your shift - in the conference room."

"All right, I'll be there."

Ackerman slapped his desk with both hands.

"You can go, Officer Thomas. If you ever have any questions, feel free to ask me."

"See you, Buzzy," said Thomas arrogantly.

The Chief said nothing. Ackerman, despite the lack of solid evidence, felt like he had just interviewed a killer. So goes Carlton Thomas's second chance. He felt sure he would not pass a psyche test, even if he lied on the thing. He was just too egotistical.

__________

Sylvie Reynolds lit the wood stove in the barn, put a teapot filled with her aunt's homegrown, organic peppermint on top and rubbed her hands together, smiling as she sat down on her cot. She was preparing to spend the night next to the new kids and an aromatic cedar fire. She had moved Thelma, Smidgen and Tinkerbell close to her and the stove. She slid onto their blanket and embraced the two newborn kids. Pumpkin came over and lay down on her other side, next to her fluffy puppy, Junior. Sylvie was in heaven.

She often said that she liked animals better than humans. You could treat a human well and they would still turn on you or manipulate you. But, if you treated an animal with understanding and kindness, they would simply love you back. She did not believe in unconditional love either in humans or animals, especially since her mother had left. If there was such a thing as unconditional love, then abuse would mean nothing. But that wasn't true. It did mean something, and no one would be the same afterwards, human or animal. That was her truth. That was what she believed.

Sylvie began to doze with her face next to little Smidge. Fuzzy snored loudly in her stall. The young girl fell asleep on the goats' blanket until the teapot began to whistle. The donkey nuzzled her, and she awoke smiling into the tiny face of the small black, white and tan baby goat.

Yawning, Sylvie stretched and fixed a couple cups of tea. Her aunt walked into the barn with Zucchini who went right over to the new baby goats and lay down next to them, cuddling up tight.

Sylvie said, "I love cold summer nights. This is divine. I love it here."

Asia smiled and hugged her niece remembering how resentful Sylvie was when she first arrived and what a huge change she now manifested in her attitude. She couldn't have hoped for more. They both settled into the glow of the cedar logs, content in the midst of Asia's farm menagerie/animal family. She lit a stick of Frangipani incense.

Sylvie said, "This is a little piece of heaven."

"Sylvie," answered Asia. "Whenever you wish or need it, you can always call this home."

A man's deep voice coughed in the background. Both women were startled from their communal dream. "Hate to interrupt your heavenly reverie...and who are these fine, little goats? Every time I visit you, you have added animals to your farm."

Asia looked up with delight written all over her face. "Rainier!" she exclaimed. Sylvie looked at the two of them, puzzled and a little disappointed that this private time with her aunt was interrupted, albeit not rudely.

Rainier Voss walked softly across the hay strewn barn floor. He said, as he approached the lightly burning aromatic cedar, "I repeat, who are these fine little goat babies?" He bent over toward the still-reclining donkey with a half-smile and said with a caress on the burro's pretty tan and brown head, "How are you, my Punkin? My little Pumpkin Pie?" Pumpkin nodded her head and swung it towards the new visitor.

Sylvie felt an upwelling of jealousy as this stranger eyed her new puppy with curiosity, although she could not help liking the new visitor and his cute, affable stance. She thought he was rocketing handsome in a slick, black, square-bottomed Armani jacket and a string tie with a large, shiny turquoise and gold clasp and polished cowboy boots. He looked all the country gentleman. To top it all off, he had on a black felt cowboy hat with a tooled, silver hat band.

He stuck his hand out at Sylvie after kissing Asia lightly on the cheek and squeezing her hand with a love light in his long-lashed, hazel eyes (surprising Sylvie).

"And you are?" he asked, stretching forward as Sylvie awkwardly grasped his hand and shook it, embarrassed, saying, "My name's Sylvie..."

Asia added, "She's my niece, Sylvie Reynolds. She is visiting from Chicago."

Sylvie said, pointing to the big, growing St. Bernard, "This is my dog, Junior."

"Frankie gave him to her and gave me the two older goats."

"The big goats are Thelma and Louise. Uh, I mean Louis or Satchmo," commented Sylvie with a giggle. "We didn't know Louise was a boy until Thelma gave birth to Smidgen and Tinkerbell, the two little new-born kids here on the blanket."

Voss said, "That must have been quite a surprise!"

"It was," answered Sylvie. "Zucchini sort of clued us in just in the nick of time before Thelma gave birth. We just thought she was getting fat and talked about putting her on a diet."

Voss looked at Asia and said, "We need to talk. I've already been de-briefed by the Bureau, who is in consultation with the SLPD. But I think I need to let you know where our investigation of Carlton Thomas is at."

Sylvie looked up sharply at Asia with a worried expression on her face. Asia explained to Voss that Sylvie was Carlton Thomas's son's girlfriend and that they were no friends of Carlton. "His son, as you probably know, is in protective custody over..."

"At the Almonte ranch," added Rainier. "Yes, I know." He looked at Sylvie sympathetically, and went on, "I am consulting with the FBI and the Silver Lake Police about Carlton Thomas's background which spans several states. I work full-time for NASA's satellite computer department at Cape Canaveral and the Kennedy Space Center, but I used to work for the FBI early in my career. I worked with your aunt this winter solving the hacking problem in Silver Lake. She is a fine investigator in her own right, also." He threw an admiring glace at Asia.

Despite the curiosity that Sylvie had about Dr. Voss, whom she understood from their conversation was a NASA computer expert with a doctorate in physics from an Ivy League university, she simply chose to spend the night with her favorite people - the goats, the donkey and the dogs. It just was the way it was. A perfect night. She would have time to spend with Rainier Voss later. But tonight, was the zenith of her summer with her Aunt Asia, and the summer solstice on top of that, so she couldn't miss the full moon, snuggling up to her barnyard buddies.

Dr. Voss continued speaking to Asia in confidence when he noticed that Sylvie was daydreaming and looking at the new-born kids with affection and concentration. He fully understood her need to commune with that new life. Sylvie looked up when she heard Bert's name mentioned, though.

"Once I get settled in here, I need to talk to Bertram Thomas alone, as soon as possible. I need his cooperation on everything I am doing. It is important for me to double check my research with him, because he knows whether or not some of my findings are real. I have not found anything solidly indictable, but his father has a troubled past and I think Bert should really be the first to know what we are sharing with police agencies. It is a good thing he is staying with the Almontes; I want him as far away from his dad as possible. Carlton is potentially very threatening."

Asia nodded in agreement and added, "If you need any internet research while you are consulting with the FBI or local police, be sure you let me know. I am an amateur in terms of police research, but my documentary experience makes me a professional in terms of information gathering. I find the situation as interesting as it is possibly dangerous."

"Of course. As much as I know you would like to hear a little piano tonight, I am very tired from my travels..."

"Oh, Rainier, that is not a problem. There are some cold vegetable dishes in the fridge I can heat up for you if you want to change out of your travel attire. Your room is ready, and I will

light a small fire in the living room. We can eat in there."

"Wonderful! I have fond memories of your living room. I am ravenous! Let me run upstairs, then. I hope dinner in my pajamas is okay with you!"

"Of course."

Just as Asia finished heating a few rice and vegetable dishes, she heard the breathtaking opening to the Minute Waltz. Asia's still-new Yamaha baby grand echoed exquisitely throughout her home. She felt warmed by the competent and familiar tones of the short piece that she knew Rainier Voss could play flawlessly by memory. The evening was spent in the cozy, golden glow of the fireplace with Sylvia, Dr. Voss, herself and their two large, sweet dogs. Happiness had no boundaries on that cool, summer evening.

__________

In contrast, the next day, Dr. Voss left before anyone else was awake. His first stop was the Silver Lake Police Department. Then, he was to meet Bertram Thomas at the Almonte ranch after breakfast with Sheila and Chico at a local restaurant. It was a business breakfast to meant to outline some strategy on how to handle their closeness to Bertram Thomas. He knew that the stories he had gathered in Indiana and Wisconsin were not unknown to Bert. He wanted a closer cooperation with Carlton Thomas's son.

Rainier Voss introduced himself to Bertram Thomas when he arrived at the Almonte ranch. Bert took him upstairs to his room. When Dr. Voss entered the young man's room, he was astonished by the beauty and skill of Bert's artwork. He knew Bert was a painter, but he had no idea how accomplished he was. For a young person his age, he was ready for an art gallery. Bert's room, itself, was an array of art projects (portraiture mostly, some landscapes) and a shelf full of a DVD collection of his video flying lessons. The walls were covered with modern jets and Air Force recruitment posters for the Air Force Academy. He was neat and well-organized, although the room smelled heavily of acrylic paint. The windows were sunny and open to air the smell out as much as possible and let in some beautiful, natural light on his easels.

His portrait of Niño, Chico Almonte's magnificent, black stallion was stunning in its execution and detail. Not only that, but Rainier Voss had heard about Bert's riding prowess and patience as a riding instructor from Sylvie. Bert Thomas truly had an incomparable talent for photographic landscapes and portraiture. Not a common talent. Voss had also seen his scholastic record, which was also very impressive. It was hard to believe he was raised by Carlton Thomas.

Bert showed Dr. Voss his pencil sketches from high school and heard the story about how Bert had to hide his sketchbook and favorite reading materials from his father in a hole inside his box springs. Dr. Voss thought this was yet another sign that Carlton Thomas was psychotically jealous of any accomplishment that his son exhibited.

Rainier said, "Your father just does not understand your needs as a young adult with an extremely bright and talented future. When the time comes, I will write you a recommendation for the Air Force Academy. I truly respect your judgment, reputation and abilities."

Bert beamed at Dr. Voss and showed him how far he had gotten with his video flying lessons. Rainier said, "You know I am an administrator in the satellite division at the Kennedy Space Center. I am impressed. I can send you some satellite flying software that runs through our training tutorial for checklists and launching, simulating a real launch. It lets you program a launch yourself, also. As you might know, Canaveral is an Air Force station. If you remain in the Air Force, I might be able to get you a job there with me at the Kennedy Space Center. Sylvie Reynolds said you wanted to fly a medic plane, but this might be another choice you should consider Would you like that?"

Bert responded enthusiastically, "Oh Yes! Thank you so much!"

"Now for something less happy," continued Voss, finding it hard to switch to something so negative. "Young man, we suspect your dad of much more than an abusive childhood background or a less than positive high school record."

Bert's face fell and he looked at his hands. Sorrowfully, he closed out his flying video.

Voss went on, "Let me go over our recent findings about your father's past."

Bert frowned and nodded.

"First, when we researched your father's childhood, we found that he was abused by his father - locked in the basement for days as a punishment; beaten by him; had his food withheld. As a result, we feel, your dad turned to petty theft - stealing food from friends and local stores; stealing small change and money from any wallet he had access to. He was also a bully in his neighborhood and schools. Mostly towards other boys, usually smaller ones. He broke windows and vandalized empty houses and abandoned cars and encouraged his other friends to do the same. The one exception to his bullying was Silver Lake Police Chief Buzzy Ackerman. This was in high school. For some reason Carlton would defend Buzzy and even joined the Police Academy with him, graduating in his class without incident.

"We feel because of his violent background; Carlton craves power and authority. But, also tends to abuse it. Your grandfather was finally arrested for the domestic abuse of your grandmother and got a life sentence without the possibility of parole for her murder. As a result, your dad was in a foster home throughout high school until he turned eighteen."

Bert looked up at Rainier Voss and said, "Yeah, I know all of that. It's true. It doesn't excuse his behavior presently, though."

"Of course not," answered Dr. Voss. "Your dad also flunked a small part of his first departmental psyche test this morning. Chief Ackerman has decided to withhold this information and put it in a sealed file until it is necessary to reveal it. He is afraid it would set your dad off on a rampage. It was the part of the test that gauges internal feelings of violence. He scored pretty low."

"I'm not surprised," said Bert. "He never beat me after I reached sixteen. He never starved me or locked me in the basement. But there are other things he has done that you apparently didn't find out about. They are not in identifiable public records. I am totally convinced that he killed Jack Baxter, the poker player. He would never let anyone take his money at the poker table and get away with it. Never. Even I had to return his bets if I won them at home. Buzzy also knew better than to win off my dad."

"Yet you have no evidence?"

"About Jack Baxter? No. Do You suspect your father of more criminal activity?"

"Oh, yes sir. Definitely."

"Like what, Bertram?"

"I can't say right now."

"Whenever you can help us..."

"I will contact you. Asia Reynolds will be able to find you. I can talk to Sylvie; she is my girlfriend."

"I know. Or, you can just call the FBI on the telephone. They have our case on file under your father's name. Their local office is listed in almost every phone book."

"Yes. I will look them up."

Rainier Voss was tired and a little disappointed in his interview with Bertram Thomas. He looked forward to an evening with Asia and her household. He drove the dirt road to her home with an expanding sense of pleasurable anticipation at the thought of lighting a warm cedarwood fire. Almost to her house, he thought he wanted to get some takeout at a local vegan restaurant and relieve Asia from having to cook. He turned around and drove to the town center, parking on Silver Lake Boulevard.

As soon as he popped his head out of his car, he remembered that Silver Lake Boulevard was Officer Carlton Thomas's beat. He shook his head and got back into his FBI black SUV, thinking, I could just as well park off this street around behind the restaurant. No sooner had he thought that, the large shadow of a uniformed SLPD cop loomed at his driver's side window.

The snarling, contorted face of Carlton Thomas met his eyes as he looked up. The Officer knocked at his car window loudly. "You can't park here!" he said, belligerently, as Rainier powered his window down.

"Why?" answered Voss, confused and a little afraid. The FBI had not issued him a gun, so he was weaponless. He felt helpless against this man, who he felt was psychotic. "There's no hydrant, yellow curb or stop sign."

"It's too close to the entrance of a business," answered Thomas with a sneer, sounding like he thought Voss was stupid.

"Okay, I'll move," Rainier said quickly. Thomas's reputation and attitude put him into an immediate 'rather switch than fight' mood.

But before Rainier Voss could switch gears out of neutral to start the engine and roll around the corner in order to head down the alley, Carlton Thomas slapped a sticky orange parking ticket on his windshield. "Hey!" yelled Voss. "I was moving!"

"Too late. You had already pulled in. You out-of-town tourist-types always think your ideas should rule us locals. This town has its own laws. Why don't you check them first? My job doesn't run on ideas. It operates on the principal of blind justice. So, you get a ticket like anyone else would. Just because you know Asia Reynolds does not make you anyone special or above the law. And I am the law here."

Voss got a little red-faced, felt bullied and thought, Your sense of justice is truly blind, all right - but not in the direction of fairness...He pulled out from his parking space and yanked his SUV around into the alley, wondering with some fear about how Carlton Thomas knew he knew Asia Reynolds. It made him worry all the more about her safety. And his.

When he met up with Sergeant Rodriguez and Chico Almonte the next morning for a de-briefing breakfast meeting at Zinski's Bagels, Sheila reacted with anger. She stated forcefully, "That's not how things are done in this town! That Officer is going to find that out very soon!"

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# Chapter Eleven

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ASIA FELT, RATHER THAN saw, the huge black, possibly one ton pickup behind her. It loomed up to her bumper ominously, pushing into her rear license plate and diminutizing her Silverado, making it look small in comparison. It made her feel like she was driving a six cylinder Toyota, instead of a large, standard-sized Chevy V-8. She panicked and searched for her cell phone with the fingers of her right hand. She slid her hand back and forth on the seat beside her fruitlessly.

She thought, Why, oh why, hadn't I traded in my old Silverado for a newer model that had a hands-free, voice operated cell phone system?!

She couldn't find the cell, finally knocking it into the passenger side wheel well when she clumsily smacked it with her blind groping. The huge, black pickup knocked into her bumper again, pushing her truck harder this time, forcing her to drive slightly off to the side of the dirt road they were on. She thought desperately, Where was Rainier?! Who was that behind her? She knew that Carlton Thomas was walking his regular beat on Silver Lake Boulevard in the town center at this time of day, so it couldn't be him.

Maybe they had let Talbot Patterson out of jail. He had held her at gunpoint the summer before. He could still be bitter and angry enough to do something like this. She had turned him and his son into the police.

Her hands flew off the steering wheel as the huge pickup rammed her again, completely pushing her into a rather deep culvert on the side of the road. Her right front wheel sunk into the soft, wet mud still draining from a recent rain. She twisted around squinting into the oversized truck as it grazed her left side, trying to see through the darkly tinted windows. Nothing. She could see no one. It was as if the truck was empty of occupants.

She spun her wheels trying to get out of the culvert. It was useless. She turned her engine off. Zucchini, who was in the back of the double cab stopped barking as the other truck sped away, kicking up clouds of dust and gravel at her. She peered at the back plate, but it was coated in mud, so she could not make out anything. She started to cry in relief as the huge vehicle sped away. Zucchini nudged her and whimpered a little in sympathy.

As she put her arm around the dog's broad back and leaned over to the passenger side of her truck, sweeping the floor with her hand until she could grasp the fallen cell phone. She pulled past Zookie and sat up behind the wheel again, dialing 911 and then her roadside service to give her a tow out of the muddy culvert.

_________

Rainier Voss showed up riding double on Sgt. Sheila Rodriguez's motorcycle followed by Chico Almonte and his partner in a patrol car. Asia's tow truck was right behind them. She smiled and even relaxed slightly when she saw Rainier.

"Are you okay?" asked Sheila, concerned, as she spoke through Asia's open driver's side window.

"Yeah. I'm really shaken, but okay. What was that, Sheila? Any idea? I couldn't see through the driver's tinted windows."

"Yes, Asia. We have a good idea who that was. It was not just random road rage. Carlton Thomas was put on administrative leave this morning and was relieved of his duties until the department could resolve his status as an Officer. There is still not enough evidence to charge him for any criminal or felonious activity. I'm sorry, Asia, I did not have enough time to warn you. We were all afraid he would go after you, Sylvie or Bertram, which we think he just did. I should have called you."

Rainier Voss added, "The county officials insisted that Chief Ackerman take Thomas's badge and gun until the killer of Jack Baxter was found. Thomas flunked the second battery of psyche tests this morning. This indicated to the county and state police (and to the FBI profilers) that he could not control his emotions enough to take the test and pass it regardless of his real opinions of the questions on the thing. It is a simple enough objective and any Officer should be able to pass the test this way. Thomas was even coached by the Chief to take care answering these questions. Carlton's disregard of this simple request does not bode well for him. There was no real reason for him to ignore Ackerman's warnings."

Asia felt defeated. She questioned Sheila about Talbot Patterson, much to Dr. Voss's alarm. As far as Sheila knew, he was still in federal prison. She felt sure he could not make parole since she had followed his prison life and behavior. He was not well-known to be a mellow or cooperative prisoner. He was combative, belligerent and spent many days in solitary - even extending his sentence by approximately five years for bad behavior.

Asia took a deep breath, feeling partially relieved that, at least, she was safe from Patterson. Again, she tensed and looked at Sheila and Rainier through her truck window just as Chico walked over. She heard the clang of the tow hook on the back of her truck and stepped down from the high door of her cab into the soft dirt of the road. Zucchini jumped down after her, brushing against her side.

"Are Sylvie and Bert okay?" she asked Sheila, anxiously.

"Yeah. They plan on spending a lot of time together at my house. They feel safer with Cisco, Julio and Papa Jose at home. At night Chico and I are also home. They like my

computerized security system and gun locker. Sylvie has become a rather good shot. She likes sleeping in our guest room and Bert is giving her more riding lessons on Chica, our mare."

"I will miss her," said Asia. "But I want her to feel comfortable in this difficult time. This type of situation is new to her. If Bert is accepted into the Academy, he'll be leaving for Colorado in a few weeks, so the two of them need the extra time together."

"Yes, I see that," said Sheila. "Bert is having most of his tattoos removed in preparation for possible acceptance into the Academy. He can just take the studs out of his piercings and have his head shaved close to get nearer to an acceptable military style. He is pretty sure with Chico's and Dr. Voss's recommendations plus his perfect high school academic record, that he'll be accepted. He has already sent his paperwork in."

"So, all we have to do is wait," said Asia.

"Yep," answered Chico.

Asia added, "Sylvie was talking about staying with me until she finishes high school. There is more room for her growing St. Bernard puppy at my place, and she has fallen in love with the goats, Punkin, Fuzzy Bud and all of Frankie's rescued farm and other animals. She loves her job there, too. She said it would be easier to adopt a couple of baby chickens and ducks if she stayed with me, which is true. I was surprised that she asked to stay so much longer, but I am fine with that. It all depends on her dad and grandfather, though."

Sheila shook herself out of her conversational mood as soon as Asia's truck was towed out of the deep, side road culvert and she was safely on her way again.

She turned to Chico and said, "We'd better get on tracing that truck down as best we can and tell the other Patrolmen and women to keep an eye out for it before anyone gets hurt."

Chico responded, "Without a plate, that won't be easy, but the size of the truck is not common here. And muddy plates are a violation we can have the department stop anyone for." He gave Sheila a hug. She donned her helmet and goggles and revved her motorcycle as Rainier Voss hopped on the back, roaring off towards town in a cyclone of dust, spitting gravel and flashing chrome. Chico went in the opposite direction, thinking to look down a few back roads for the errant truck.

__________

Carlton Thomas lived in misery and anger right now. The temporary loss of his job was a major ego-bender for him. His ego was his soul. It informed his life. The abuse of his father had stolen his real soul. His pride of self gave him the power to live, to awaken each morning. The SLPD had also revoked his personal gun license, so it was now illegal for him to carry even his own guns.

As soon as he was put on involuntary leave, he gone out and bought a one ton pickup, a fifth-wheel travel trailer and a baseball bat - a Louisville Slugger. No guns also meant no concealed weapons. He was now regulated by civilian law. He knew Buzzy could not protect him anymore. His second chance had failed and been used up. He was getting ready to get out of Dodge - to move, to make his next move, to start a new life, away from this particular hick town - more than possibly on to another rural town where he was unknown.

Bertram was a problem. He had been a problem to him since he was born. Carlton did not particularly like children. Most of what babies needed was washing, cleaning and basic maintenance such as feeding. He didn't mind doing that for himself but having to do that for a baby was not fun for him. It was too messy. And he didn't like dirt, he had a compulsive cleaning fixation and he knew it.

His son was his property as far as he was concerned. Bertram had no right to leave him. He had no real rights at all. That was Carlton's law. And he ruled. No one walked away from him. Liz did, but he told her to leave. He did not want her anyway. But Bertram could be useful to him.

He fingered the bat. He would get his revenge on this town before he left. He had paid cash for the trailer and registered as much as he could in Liz's name at his address so it could not be traced under "Thomas".

He had packed most of his things into the trailer and hidden it in the forest. He had put the rest of the furniture and things he didn't need in a storage unit - which also included his prize red MG. The big truck came in handy for the trailer and moving furniture. He spent weekends in the trailer getting it ready for his escape. He blamed the entire town for what had happened to him. He didn't need the money from his job at the police department, but he liked the power and social status it gave him. It angered him to have lost that. He didn't know when he would be able to work in law enforcement again. He would have to seek out high stakes poker games to make money. Maybe he could go over to High Rollers to play at the poker tables. No losing this time, either. Or the sucker who took his money would meet his new Louisville Slugger in a very messy way.

This town had ruined his life here and it would pay and pay dearly for doing that to him.

He knew that the connection between him and the murder of Jack Whoever (he still couldn't recall that idiot's last name, no matter how many times the SLPD reminded him of it) was pretty slender and getting colder by the minute. He had lucked into that sinkhole which he thought had destroyed a lot of evidence. Who knew quicksand could spit things out too? A feeling of unchecked, unrelenting anger and frustration surged inside of him. He put his hand around the neck of the Slugger and felt how powerful his arm felt as he was hefting it.

__________

Alphonsine LaDuque of radio station WATR, in contradiction to the report of Elise Jamison on TV station KANU in her Mississippi River Journal, reported that the large, black pickup might have been used by a loose or escaped Talbot Patterson, the criminal who had kidnapped Asia Reynolds about a year ago this summer. Alphonsine had no source, as usual, for that scoop. Elise was fuming about how dangerously inaccurate Alphonsine could be, even when she checked facts, which she obviously did not do for this report. Elise knew for a fact that Talbot was very safely locked up in prison and had not been released or escaped. She felt Alphonsine had a vendetta against Asia and that she was getting ready to be sued. Big time. Anything to make the news and try and get a jump over Elise.

Alphonsine ground a six inch Jimmy Choo heel into the carpet of her air-conditioned office at WATR radio in Silver Lake. The nerve of that reporter at KANU! Accusing her, a local radio personality of deliberately lying in a news report! Like I need to, she thought, aggravated.

The rivalry between her and poor, little Elise Jamison bordered on the completely unethical and was something Alphonsine seemed unable to avoid even after being fired from KANU for endangering the lives of a camera crew. She picked at the glitter on her glue-on nail extensions.

It made her nervous that the Board here at WATR radio might call her up on that initial report. She devised a possible strategy to avoid that now that Elise had told her that the black pickup that was renegading around town, was probably a recent purchase of another nemesis of hers, Officer Carlton Thomas. He was the same cop that had issued at least $200 worth of parking tickets to her, most of which the court would not forgive because they were for double parking. Drat!!

Alphonsine had a habit of displaying her "Press" windshield sign in order to double park at her hairdresser, favorite boutique and so on. She usually did this during work hours when she should be hunting down legitimate stories. The police knew this, too, much to her dismay. They were well aware of this habit of hers and often complained to her station about it. She thought, If they would only keep their mouths shut! And then came justice in the unlikely form of Officer Carlton Thomas. Double drat!! How could a working girl get anything done?

Well, now, she could use Elise's information (which was usually thoroughly researched and verified before it was broadcast) to create a second, "follow-up report" about how her first report was a rational deduction, but a new "unidentified source" had clued her in that the "parking ticket devil" of Silver Lake was the culprit. Two birds with one stone. Hit Carlton Thomas for the other excessive parking tickets around town and blame him for driving to endanger as well! Actually, two stones and one bird. Beautiful!

After narrating her new piece in front of her own video camera wearing a brand new dress with the new cutting edge neck to waistline plunge that showed off - uh, well, uh, you know; a new blonde tipping job and her Hollywood caps sparkling on every word, she sent the video disk to Elise to show on her late night news show, The Mississippi River Journal, and played the audio on WATR the next morning on their local news show. She gave a copy of the video disk to her Board.

The all-male Board of WATR took one look at that plunging neckline and forgave her for all her previous inaccuracies. They felt (at least combined with everyone else who had to go to court and fight an Officer Thomas parking ticket) that Alphonsine could call him out on that particular injustice. No matter how unsupported by research her report on Talbot Patterson was, it was a logical deduction from his previous actions.

When Elise Jamison had accidentally heard that initial report that morning on WATR radio, she drove right over to Asia's house, filled with a deep sense of being invaded by LaDuque. She felt that Alphonsine was deliberately goading Asia and trying to use scare tactics on her out of jealousy. Asia, being a lauded documentary filmmaker, was a type of journalist and had probably set off Alphonsine's professional spite. As you can see, Alphonsine LaDuque was not much of a news reporter herself and used her position to get at folks she might not like. Elise was horrified when she saw the video that Alphonsine had sent her (which was an exact copy of the audio report from that morning). She forgave Alphonsine nothing.

Elise had watched the video closely and she knew it was a cover up, especially the part about the parking tickets. Elise had no doubt that LaDuque deserved every ticket she got. It just took an alleged criminal to catch her. Justice served, she felt.

Asia finally calmed her down as Sylvie listened to the screaming finale of Elise's rant about Alphonsine's video open-mouthed.

"She always act this way?" she whispered to her aunt, trembling.

"Only when she is enraged. Alphonsine has a history with Elise," answered Asia as she served the both of them honey-sweetened ambrosia smoothies. They were outside on Asia's covered patio. The donkey and goats were calling alongside the tiny barking of Fuzzy - all wanting reassurance that things were under control again. Sylvie ran off to the barn to attend to them with the enormous (and still growing) Junior loping behind her amiably. Seemed he was always pretty much amiable. Junior was a very good-natured dog.

"That dog's going to weigh over two hundred pounds when it is full grown," commented Elise, now peaceful, sipping her frothy ambrosia calmly.

"Probably," answered Asia. "He's a wonderful dog. Sylvie has him trained so that he acts like a gentleman. Between him and Zucchini, it is one solid wall of watch dog. With Junior's mother, Hunny, and Zookie's boyfriend Big Boy, the Newfoundland, visiting..."

"It could get very hairy-scary for any intruder," Elise finished, laughing.

"Yeah, definitely. That's like over four hundred pounds of suddenly unfriendly pooch," added Asia.

"No lie. Just set the goats and that monster donkey Punkin loose - shit, it's the Brother's Grimm all over the place. Whoever the intruder is, he or she would be spaghetti sauce between the hooves, teeth and horns."

"Very grim, indeed. Punkin is not a monster, though, Elise."

"I'm still afraid of anything bigger than me, which is why I don't ride horses, even being a country girl born and bred."

"Well, Punkin is a honey. Besides Elise, everything is bigger than you. I'm bigger than you!" commented Asia, looking at her 95 lb. friend who was fearful of the movie Antz and couldn't watch it without leaving the movie scratching herself and complaining.

Elise held her large, baby-filled, stomach with both hands. "These babies just woke up and want to play field hockey, jungle gym and wrestling. Uh, they are rolling around like they outside. And they're not outside just yet."

"Have you and Elton decided on names?" asked Asia as she gathered up the empty smoothie glasses.

"Yeah, mostly. But they are a big secret. I won't even tell you. You got anything to eat? Me and my babies are ravenous."

"Sure, honey. How about some fruit salad and homemade full cream, organic, vanilla yogurt?"

"Sounds yummy."

Asia sat down in her padded lawn chair after putting large bowls of food on her glass patio table. She said, looking directly at Elise, "So how are you going to deal with this latest crazy thing from Alphonsine? Seems she loves you so much she can't stay away."

"I'm going to ignore her and her stupid video. I have my hands full sorting out legitimate sources - emails and police policies regarding Carlton Thomas for my own reports on the Mississippi River Journal. From what I am seeing of his recent careless driving - you not being the only victim - I would advise you to take an evening with Sylvie and Rainier and clean out your gun locker, stockpile ammo and have that four hundred pound watch dog posse overnight occasionally. Thomas really deserves a party like that - especially with you and Rainier pointing double-barreled 12 gauge shotguns at his rear. Can't stand the guy. It'll take me a year to pay off all those parking tickets he issued me and Elton. Don't know how Sheila Rodriguez is handling hers, especially since he knew that her motorcycle was a cop vehicle."

"Go to court and protest the tickets."

"Don't have the time. I'm a working mother and Elton is working on a large construction project in Missouri so we can remodel one of our guest rooms as a nursery. It is not cool to see how expensive kiddie furniture is. Basically, the kids should be sitting on the floor when they start standing and walking just to save money. By the way, has Rainier asked you for your expertise in researching Carlton Thomas's background?"

"Yes, Elise, he has. He got me some FBI security clearance for national police files. I have also been copying local newspaper reports from years ago on misdemeanors and anything that seems relevant, as well as Carlton's high school counseling records. Even his middle school records have some interesting notations of concern. I also have official documentation on Thomas's father. Not much, so far, that Rainier doesn't already know. A few sort of mysterious leads that I would need more information about. I would guess we are looking for something much bigger than we have found so far." Asia paused significantly.

"And much uglier."

"Yeah, sis," said Elise. "Make sure you tell me if you come across anything significant that Rainier would give you permission to make public on cable. I'm digging into this situation too. I think we are looking at someone who is into something deep."

"And illegal."

"I would think so. I know what I think we'll find."

"And I don't think it will be pretty."

"Me, either..."

__________

Sylvie Reynolds picked up her rolled sleeping bag and walked out her aunt's back door. Sleeping in the barn had now become a summer activity for her, when she wasn't staying overnight at the Almonte ranch. The barn's main attractions were Tinkerbell and Smidgen, the two baby goats, that could practically make her faint with cuteness and heavenly sweetness.

The Simmons boys, Jed and Jerry, had built a small cage for three baby chickens, two ducklings and, as a bonus, one tiny gosling that Frankie let her take home from her rescue yesterday. Sylvie still worked at Frankie's farm rescue almost every day.

These small animals were way better than TV for Sylvie, especially with all the scary reports about Bert's dad. She could easily spend hours cleaning, grooming, feeding and playing with the small animals. A double bonus was the opportunity to teach Junior how to act gently with smaller animals. Seems he had an aptitude for that. She felt he was truly destined to become a gentle giant.

As Sylvie let the chicks, ducklings and gosling out of their cage and watched them run over to Junior, nuzzling into his long hair, she laughed at their trust in amazement. When they would start to wander around the barn floor, Junior would whimper and round them up again. Junior was a perfect momma.

Sylvie put eucalyptus oil and water in her candle-burning ceramic essential oil diffuser. Chica was outside in her aunt Asia's new small pasture area. Chica, of course, was the Almonte chestnut mare. Sylvie felt better riding her than taking little Punkin and the donkey cart (which could only run on the roads) while Bert's dad was tailgating around town and scaring everyone. He never liked the little burro, which made Sylvie's sensitivities about her animal charges feel raw.

If she rode Chica to work, town or to the Almontes, she could take the trails through the local woods and completely avoid any of the roads. She could live in her own perfect world and not worry about this crazy man.

Elise Jamison had given her some locally grown marijuana. She put a gram into her pipe and smoked it now amidst Asia's livestock (perfect company in Sylvie's opinion). She inhaled the sweet fragrance of the eucalyptus oil, watching Momma Junior herd his flock. Sylvie stretched and went outside to see what was bothering Chica and bring her into the barn and brush her, etc. - time to give her some strokes and "feel-good". The Almonte mare was making loud noises and sounded bothered. Maybe it was a coyote.

She took her 9mm out on instinct and put in a full magazine, stashing her box of ammo under her cot. Bert had insisted that she stay armed at all times right now. He said that he knew his father better than anyone else did and he knew when there was evil in the wind. He had grown up with that type of instinct for his father's threats.

Although she loved staying with Bert and the Almonte family, she needed her own time away. Her Aunt Asia's place was much closer to Frankie Franklin's rescue ranch and her work there. Leading with her gun and carrying Chica's halter, Sylvie eased herself out of the barn as unobtrusively as possible. Junior barked once and lay down among his brood again with an odd growl. Sylvie was less than surprised to see Carlton Thomas walking towards the back door of Asia's house.

"Hey!" she yelled at him, hiding her gun under her sweater. "What are you doing here?!"

"Hi, yourself, you little slut. None of your business," said Carlton in his usual obnoxious way.

Rainier Voss came out of Asia's kitchen, leading with one of her shotguns. A growling Zucchini was restrained at the kitchen door by Asia. Rainier shouted at Carlton, "What the hell are you doing here?!" Zookie bared her teeth and stood in front of Asia.

"I came to see Asia Reynolds," yelled Carlton in return. "I don't need to see you. I have nothing to say to you." Sirens approached Asia's house, sounding closer and closer. They were obviously coming towards them.

Sergeant Sheila Rodriguez tore up Asia's driveway in a cloud of dust and stopped her motorcycle directly in front of Carlton Thomas, causing him to cough at the rising dirt spewed at him by the Sergeant's rough stop. She stared directly at him wearing her opaque copper-colored UV shades, obviously angry despite her eyes being covered. She drew her service weapon as soon as Chico Almonte and his partner pulled up behind her in their patrol car.

Sheila shouted at Thomas over the racket Zucchini and Junior were making, "What the hell are you doing here? Don't you think you're in enough trouble as it is? Your psyche test result, in case you don't know, is that of a psychopath and a sociopath. I would be careful just dropping in on folks the way you do."

Carlton smirked and said sarcastically, "I have a clean record. Without any evidence, you cannot charge me with anything."

Sheila answered, "Not yet. We do have some witnesses from the casino incidents, though - and that could lead us towards possible conclusion that you have committed murder."

"But nothing definitive."

"You still didn't answer me. Why are you here?"

Thomas began to walk down the driveway towards the dirt road in front of the Reynolds' home. He yelled over his shoulder in an offhand way, "Okay. Okay, Officers, I'm leaving. I just wanted to talk to Ms. Reynolds and Dr. Voss."

Sheila Rodriguez let him go, as did the other two officers. "Just make sure you don't come back here again. If you want to talk to anyone, I would recommend that you use the telephone," shouted the Sergeant at his retreating figure.

Carlton laughed and waved the back of his hand at the police without turning around.

"Sneaky so-and-so. I just don't trust him," said Chico.

"That's an understatement," answered Sheila. "They have enough guns here on Asia's rancho to take down three of Carlton Thomas. I've heard from Bert that even Sylvie is a great shot like her aunt."

"And those big dogs help a little," said Chico.

"Plus, your horse, Punkin (in a bad or dark donkey mood) and the other farm animals. An angry goat is no friend of a bad man," added Sheila putting her hands on her hips.

"They've protected this household before."

"For animals, they're good people."

Sheila and Chico slapped a high five.

__________

Sylvie slipped into the barn again with Chica, who, very cooperatively, walked quietly next to her. She hugged the big, pretty mare, walked her over to a clean stall and forked some hay into her feed bin. She then curried her gently. The large mare grunted with contentment. Sylvie could hear Sheila Rodriguez and Carlton Thomas shouting at each other. She shivered.

In another month, Bert would know if he was accepted to the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs. As soon as possible after that, he planned on leaving to prepare for school. Until then, he was trying to gather himself to expose as much dirt on his father as possible. He had consistently promised to "put him away for life". Sylvie knew he was waiting for a safe chance to do so. Bert would never jeopardize either himself, his academic career or Sylvie in any way. He would also not clue her in on what he wanted to reveal, which made Sylvie nervous with anticipation. But Bert was not one to make empty promises.

She went over to Punkin after grooming Chica and did the same for her. She cleaned all the animal areas from Fuzzy Bud and Junior to the little chicks and the goat 'family area'. She brushed the goats who loved the attention. She even brushed Junior (who was a fuss-budget and Fuzzy, who didn't take long to brush all 12 inches of his long foxy red hair). She cleaned all the water buckets and bowls and poured fresh, clean water into all the water feeders from the spigot inside the barn which her clever Aunt Asia had installed a year ago for convenience.

Sylvie put more essential oil in the ceramic diffuser. This time she used orange oil, which was cheap but smells great in combination with other oils. The brushing and the oil scents seemed to knock her animal 'family' out, and they all bedded themselves down. She quietly put on a Marvin Gaye CD which produced a symphony of contented animal snores.

Stretching out on her cot, she joined them.

|  |

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# Chapter Twelve

Carlton Thomas went back to his house rental the night he had tried to sneak up on Asia Reynolds and gotten caught by her cop and animal friends. He, of course, was furious, but had much to do in terms of packing and cleaning. Always cleaning. Cleaning obsessively. It was never clean enough to suit him. The police department had given him a warning about tailgating and had issued him a hefty traffic ticket for forcing Asia Reynolds off the road. He had told them he never meant to force Asia off the road.

He protested that she was a lousy driver and clumsily drove herself off the road. At this point, he knew the local cops would have a hard time believing anything he had to say in his own defense. They warned him to slow down and keep a safe distance between him and other vehicles. This, of course, made him even angrier.

One night, he lay down to sleep in his new camper out in the woods in Silver Lake (where he figured no one could find him). He had time to think about his life that was falling apart once again, as it had many times before. He thought, Best thing I ever did was to let Bertram go. I could never live with who I was. My father would not let me be who I am. I was hard on Bert, but in the end, I was forced to let him go. I wanted to become him. Become someone else.

I always knew this. I was psycho-analyzed in high school, although I violently disagreed with their diagnosis at the time. Now, I have to say, they had a point. One sees things differently when one has a child, whether or not one actually wanted that child.

Bertram reads, he paints, he wants to go to school - but most of all - he loves.

That is something I tried to do but failed. Failed so very many times. So, one day maybe I can tell him that I understand him more than he knows and hope he finds the happiness I never had. That I could not grasp. That I will probably never grasp.

I didn't love his mother, but he gets all of that: the art, the self-love and the ability to achieve something better. He gets all of that and more, from her, from Liz. Lord knows it wasn't from me. If no one knows now, no one will never know in the future - what I did and who I really was.

Bertram has freedom, though. He has the freedom to be good - something I never felt was a thing I could attain. I know how bad I really am. Outside of my son, no one else does. There is something to admitting the truth to one's self.

Carlton then fell fast asleep with more peace than he had ever felt in his entire adult life.

Carlton Thomas finished packing his camper trailer the next day and hitched it to his new pickup. He drove his rig into Missouri in the middle of the night, around two in the morning. He felt relieved to have left Silver Lake and Illinois in general. He went fishing after parking his camper next to a large lake hidden in the woods at the foothills of the Ozark mountain range. He really enjoyed being alone.

Any time he saw another person, he tried his best to frighten them - everything short of criminal activity. He could tailgate with his pickup to his heart's content, because no one knew him, and his license was still rather artistically covered with mud. He had plans to sell this truck in the local classified and buy a new one in a different color. He had to cover his tracks as much as he could.

He still needed to keep his rental in Silver Lake. He went to the house to take care of any unfinished business about once a week. It was annoying, but it had to be done. He still paid rent on the place. This made it seem as if he was still living there, which suited him just fine.

He thirsted for another high stakes poker game. The only sure place he could easily find high stakes would be a casino. There was one in St. Louis. Or, of course, the one across the Mississippi in Silver Lake. He could use the money. His salary from the SLPD did not pay for much. Maybe some gasoline, propane and part of his house rent. But he had expensive tastes. Now, that he was suspended from the police force, he could drink alcohol. He had bought a case of Rolling Rock. Not much of a beer drinker, he still liked the spring water brewed beer and it tasted just fine after a hot day fishing for trout or bass. Nice and cold. He had a large propane refrigerator in his RV. That, along with his efficient generator and his air conditioner, took the edge off an intensely hot day on the lake.

Thinking about poker, he broke open another beer and guzzled the cold liquid. It felt good. Almost normal. He laughed to himself at the thought of being normal.

Carlton's wish for a high stakes card game came true when he least expected it. He was out on the lake looking for a new fishing spot when he met two big, burly guys waving him over. He had parked his truck close by and had been sauntering around the shoreline.

He was reluctant to meet the new men, since he was trying to keep a low profile, but a third friend of theirs came up behind him suddenly and clapped him on the back, startling him. He almost punched the guy, but seeing the much larger man's goofy grin, he relented and smiled back. He swore he could feel his face crack.

These three guys were really big, body-builder types. All of them worked as diesel mechanics at the same 18 wheeler garage in a nearby Ozark town Carlton had never heard of. They were all insisting that he join them, claiming they had the best fishing spot on the lake. Proof of which was abundant. Their fish buckets were filled with big trout. Carton was more than happy to try and catch a few ten pounders like that.

All of his new fishing buddies commented on how nice his pickup was and were surprised that he wanted to sell it. They said that they were pretty sure that they could hook him up with another truck and sell his too. He promised to give him a few photos of the truck to post around town. He simply complained that he wanted a Ford, that he didn't like Chevys. They understood and laughed about his brand preference.

The biggest guy, Justin, looked him square in the eye and asked, "You play poker?"

Carlton started for the second time that morning and answered, coyly, "Sometimes." Thinking that he sure wasn't going to play these bumpkins for peanuts, or even small amounts of cash. See if they could make him. The other two guys looked at each other and snickered at his reply. Justin smirked back at them and continued, "How does a thousand dollar buy-in strike you? You that good? We pay our mortgages from these games. Don't play unless you think you can keep your head above water. We are serious and like high stakes casino style poker. We don't just let anyone play. I can tell we all like you, though." Justin turned to his two buddies. They nodded and smiled.

Of course, Carlton felt immediately offended, but was intrigued at the trio's bravado. Deep inside himself, he steeled his inner spirit to take these men down. Low. He prepared himself to humble them. He answered, "How about a two thousand dollar buy in?"

Now it was their turn to be surprised. After a short consultation among themselves, they agreed to up their ante, warning Carlton that his poker skills and bank account should be strong enough to sustain him in the game. He assured them he was fine and was a strong enough player to take them on.

Justin gave him a wide smile and said, "Then you're in! Game's this Saturday. Meet us at Ozark Trucking at eight o'clock." He handed Carlton (who had introduced himself as Bob Paulson) an Ozark Trucking business card.

Carlton felt suddenly tired, begged off any further conversation and drove back to his camper, happy to grill a fine big, fresh trout and pat himself on the back at finding even a rural high stakes game way out here in the middle of nowhere.

Who would have thought it? He rubbed his hands together. He would show those men a thing or two about big-city poker and make a few thousand on the side. Stupid bumpkins probably thought they could take him. Not gonna happen, he thought. He was packing a couple of handguns and a hunting rifle with ammunition, despite the SLPD's ban on his carrying weapons. He was not about to travel without self-protection. And he certainly couldn't play a card game without a handgun.

No one was going to take him for a fool. Not likely. He fell asleep after his meal while the generator ran the air conditioner blocking the intensity of the mid-summer heat.

__________

The next day, Carlton drove back to his rented house in Silver Lake. He had a few things to pick up and wanted to do his laundry over at the house. As soon as he walked into the place, he knew something was wrong. It felt funny inside his old home. He could smell someone. Some perfume. He wrinkled his nose, swore, walked forward and silently slipped his shoes off. He could feel himself growl like a mountain lion, deep inside his chest. It was more of a feeling than a sound. He padded forward in his stockings.

He fingered the fully loaded gun in his jacket pocket. He hugged a wall and crept forward again. Regardless of his gun registration being canceled, most of his weaponry collection wasn't registered anyway, including the handgun in his pocket. Too bad, he thought. I have to protect myself in my own house. He really didn't think it was a burglary or anything in the common criminal category. He pretty much thought it must be his son or someone he knew nosing around where they shouldn't be.

He was correct. As soon as he reached a corner in the hallway, he could see the back of Sylvia Reynolds' T shirt. She was rummaging around in Bert's room, collecting books and what seemed to be art materials. Carlton could feel anger rising up his neck. He realized that his son had been stashing his art things and hiding books from him, as well.

He shouted at Sylvie's back, "What the hell do you think you are doing?! Get out of my house!" Sylvie spun around, dropped a load of books she had been packing into a duffle, shrieked and pulled a .38 on Carlton who actually laughed at her. She aimed the barrel directly at his forehead.

"You know this is trespassing, right?!" he said sarcastically.

Carlton figured that would kind of scare her. He had no intention of getting into any trouble with the department on account of her.

He continued speaking, "Why don't you lower that gun? Just get out of my house and put all that junk down, too, you little thief."

Sylvie grasped the duffle tighter, lowering her gun a little. She backed to the open window and dropped the bag out. Carlton saw Bert running down past the side of the house with it. Sylvie stood there and was still waving the .38 at his face. All he could think of was running away. Not typical of Carlton Thomas, but he was tired of intrusions and the changes that his kid put him through. This town was suffocating him.

Carlton looked down for a moment. And for that split second, Sylvie took advantage of him and threw herself out the window, running in the direction that Bert had gone.

Carlton leaned against the wall and sighed in relief. He had avoided violence and given the impression that he still lived in the house. That was more important than chasing down those kids. He had deliberately not touched Bert's room when he had cleared and packed most of the rest of the house. He actually didn't want Bert in his business anymore, especially since he was so set on joining the military. With the entire police force (and the Almonte family) supporting his son, he knew the boy had escaped him successfully.

Letting him go quietly was in his plan now. He could track him better that way and make sure his addresses and phone numbers were easier to procure. Who cared if he thought he liked that girl anyway? He had his own business and his son knew better than to interfere or blab about that. His silent threats would control the boy. They always had. This was his house. And his life was his business. He made himself a small lunch and washed his clothes. There were still enough of his things in the house to make it habitable and look as if he still lived there.

__________

Sylvie hopped on Chica's back and made a quick retreat from Carlton's to her Aunt Asia's barn, closing the sliding barn doors behind her and the gentle roan. She was greeted by the goat family (Thelma, Satchmo, Tinkerbell and Smidgen). The chicks, ducklings and gosling made a friendly racket. Junior ran over and stuck his head underneath her hand and pushed up on it. Fuzzy barked and Punkin brayed loudly. Sylvie took the tack off Chica, brushed her a little, gave her an apple cookie and led her to a clean stall, filling her water bucket.

She fell on her cot, stretched and fell into a deep sleep where no worries existed, safe in the arms of her animal protectors.

As peaceful as Sylvie was, she had no idea what was to come. Later, she and Bert spoke, and he told her to lie low for a while. His voice trembled as he spoke. He said, "My dad is never this quiet. He must have something up his sleeve. I think he is planning to leave, there seems to be a lot of things missing from the house. I will be leaving for the Academy in a couple of weeks. Soon it will be time to make my move. Before I do, I want you to move back into the Almonte house. You will be safe there. I will keep you in my loop. I have plans, too. After I tell you everything that is going to come down, I will make sure that you will be safe."

Sylvie practically shouted, "Oh, Bert! You made the Academy?!"

"Yeah, baby, I got in. I am already starting to pack."

"That's the best, Bert!" exclaimed Sylvie, although a tear betrayed her real emotions about her separation from Bert in the coming years. If her idol, Harry ("the Hippie") Skylar and his girlfriend Sage Sommers could maintain their love by meeting on Christmas, Thanksgiving and summer holidays, Sylvie was determined that she and Bertram Thomas could do the same.

"I'm going to finish high school here at Aunt Asia's in Silver Lake. I love auntie's animals and working at Frankie Franklin's Farm and Animal Rescue. My dad and grandpa said it was okay with them. So, we'll be closer to each other."

"That's great news, Sylvie! We can get rides from Harry and Sage. Denver's not that far from the Academy. I want you to come over to the ranch, here, as soon as you can. I don't trust my dad, especially since he won't be busy patrolling during the day. He never just lets things go. I trust him less when he is quiet and drops out of sight, than when he is causing trouble. I'm going to turn the tables on him as soon as I can, but until that time, we need to protect ourselves."

"Okay, Bert, I will ride Chica over to the Almonte's right after work tomorrow. I'll bring my backpack."

__________

True to Bert's predictions, Carlton Thomas burst into sporadic rages. The only thing he looked forward to was taking those bumpkins in the poker game this Saturday. He slipped out of Silver Lake again in the small hours of the morning.

On Saturday night, Carlton drove over to the Ozark Trucking garage and parked close, but near an escape route through underbrush and trees. The first premonition that things were not going well, was the fact that the resident Ozark Trucking guard dog (a huge Great Dane - hound mix) took an immediate dislike to him and they had to lock him up in the garage office.

The three men sitting on folding chairs at a card table were one solid wall of muscle. They sat shoulder to shoulder. This did not intimidate Carlton in the least. During the first hand, Carlton was already starting to feel uncomfortable. He was sure they were taking him; he just didn't know how.

He was pretty sure two of the men were trying to set him up and spike his betting higher, while one of them was trying to take him on. Nothing tangible had happened just yet, but by his second beer - even winning a reasonable (but not spectacular) amount of money, he was getting jumpy and bored and wanted desperately to leave. Problem was, the other players kept pushing beer on him and obviously didn't want him to go.

You know that old line, "You've got to give us a chance to win our money back." The other players complained like children new to the game. Whining...

Finally, Carlton slapped his winning cards down at the end of an endless sequence of hands, scooped up his money and declared his tiredness. He had won back his buy-in plus a good sum. Justin stood up and pulled a gun on him. The length of time Carlton had been in the garage had been enough to plot an escape route and he took off running.

Justin said, "Well, I'll be good, god-damned! That little unfair weasel! 'Fraid of a little gun!" He went to the office and let the dog out. The hound raced through the open port door and took off into the woods. Carlton had parked deceptively close to Ozark Trucking and slammed his pickup door in the face of the dog. He laughed at the snarling hound, cocked his handgun and roared down the dirt road that led to his trailer. He was happy at making a thousand dollars or so over his buy-in and escaping the sour grapes of those three stupid mechanics.

As soon as he got back to his camper, he hitched it up and took off into the Ozark mountains, satisfied that he could lose those three bumpkins and put some extra distance between himself and Silver Lake. He no longer cared about his job in law enforcement. It was more of a hassle than it was worth. His savings was now in cash and it was enough to string him from card game to card game. As soon as Bert was gone to his precious Air Force Academy, he would break the lease on his house in Silver Lake, clean up the rest of his "business" there and run.

__________

That was not exactly what happened, though. Two days before Bert was to leave for the Academy, a gun was discovered by the edge of the quicksand sink hole next to the old sand mine in Silver Lake. Despite the rough treatment of the gun in the gritty whirlpool of the quicksand, it matched the killing bullet in Jack Baxter's head. It was definitely the murder weapon. To the amazement of the local police department, the FBI was able to recover two good fingerprints. They matched those of former Officer Carlton Thomas.

Chief Buzzy Ackerman immediately issued a warrant for the arrest of Carlton Thomas for the murder of Jack Baxter. Bert Thomas became involved with the analysis of Carlton's disappearance and gave further damning information on his father's alleged previous criminal activities, just as he had said he would. If this evidence proved true, there was no doubt that his father would be jailed for life, without parole.

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# Chapter Thirteen

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BEING WANTED FOR "ONLY" one murder was not enough to satisfy the abused son of this rather dirty cop. Bertram Thomas led an FBI SWAT team (with the help of Dr. Rainier Voss) to Carlton's rental house and they cut the large padlock on the chained basement door. Under an agreement of immunity, Bertram led the armored team down into the dingy depths of his father's basement.

The door had not been chained to avoid letting mice and rats upstairs into the house. The investigative team found four women penned in cages in the dark basement. After freeing the women and seeing to their needs, Bertram was interrogated by the FBI, Illinois State Police and local SLPD. He told the combined forces that his father sold domestic workers to wealthy people willing to force them to work without pay. He explained that he had spent his childhood sneaking extra food and essentials to the women locked in his father's houses. He had been understandably too frightened to interfere with his dad by letting the women go. Bertram had a long record of childhood visits to the local Emergency Room to back up his claim of fearing bodily harm. Once he was removed by Youth Services and put in a foster home for a while, but he never felt safe enough to go to the police about his dad.

Carlton's arrest warrant was immediately changed to include four counts of Involuntary Servitude, Kidnapping and Human Trafficking (among many other felonies). The combined police agencies understood that Bertram would need twenty-four hour protection and lauded his courage and humanity in exposing his father's heinous actions. They promised to alert the Air Force Academy to Bertram's special protective needs.

Bertram had so much more to tell them. But, everything in its own time, he reasoned to himself. He went on to explain that there were more charges that could be leveled at his father. There was a reason that the captive women were not sexually molested or beaten by his dad. Carlton prided himself in delivering clean, healthy and undamaged domestic workers to his paying "clients". He fed the captive women well, kept the slop buckets clean and rigged up a weekly shower in the basement for them. He also washed their clothing regularly. They were not chained, but they were penned in cages and given small pieces of exercise equipment to keep them healthy. He permitted them books and magazines, but still denied those things to his own son. All of this also helped to keep the operation quiet.

If buying and selling human beings was ever to be seen as even halfway humane, delivering unmolested, undamaged, healthy workers to those willing to employ them was highly advantageous. It gave Carlton lucrative referrals by word of mouth. He even coached his new "owners" on how to treat the women well so as to not cause too much trouble for themselves. There was a lot of money to be made in this enterprise, so this made sense.

Bertram confided even deeper, more shameful secrets to the police interviewing him. Dr. Voss had Asia use her computer skills to trace old addresses of previous residences that Bertram and Carlton had lived in and held/sold their servants from. Bert had been too young to remember all of the exact places he had lived in and it was essential to track them over the internet (sometimes using Asia's FBI clearance), now that his son had indicated the depth of his father's past criminal activities.

Bert had no idea who his father's clients were. He had no names or addresses, but he remembered that they came from two primary states - Florida and California. There were also several foreign manufacturing companies operating on US soil, especially in the Los Angeles area, that liked unpaid labor. Mostly, these manufacturers made clothing and the women were locked into the factory and forced to sew all day. Bert did remember the names of some of the manufacturing companies. He gave those to the FBI.

Bertram Thomas left for Colorado Springs and the Air Force Academy soon after these revelations. He was anxious to start his career in the military. He took with him the love of an entire town, grateful that a thorn in the beautiful side of their home was removed. Most of his accusations were published on cable news and local radio. Elise Jamison managed to get a live interview on the Mississippi River Journal with Bert. Her podcast of this on the internet went viral and got thousands of views.

Asia Reynolds began creating a documentary film on the crimes of former Officer Carlton Thomas. She worked on her computer tirelessly, often using her niece, Sylvie, to follow up on easy newspaper leads she had found. She also interviewed the four freed women that Carlton had held captive, documenting their journey on film from their homes and families - into deception and captivity. Elise Jamison, of course, published much of Asia's initial film footage on her late night cable news show.

With more revelations coming to light daily as a result of Asia's back story research on Thomas, he was soon actually on the FBI's Most Wanted list and hunted from coast to coast. The FBI (with Asia Reynolds' skillful documentary resource background) uncovered further evidence that Carlton Thomas was also possibly an alleged serial killer and still a danger to the public. Asia gave some of her documented footage to "America's Most Wanted" to aid in the capture of the former policemen.

Most of the innocent citizens of Silver Lake were shocked that their police force had employed such a man. They offered to host the four freed women in their homes and gave generous donations to help send them back to their families. There was an outpouring of sympathy towards the victims of this horrid man. This sympathy was also extended to his often abused son - and now accuser, Bert Thomas. He was touted (to Sylvie Reynolds' great pride) as the hero that broke open the case against his father.

__________

Buzzy Ackerman asked Asia Reynolds, "So, what you are saying, alleging or inferring is that my old high school friend is another Jeffrey Dahmer as well as a human trafficker?!"

Asia answered, "Not exactly. There is no evidence that Carlton Thomas froze or ate any body parts. The FBI is digging up the complete skeletons of maybe over one hundred men. According to Bert Thomas these men were male prostitutes that Carton met in gay men's bars throughout Indiana and cities near his Midwestern homes. Bert thinks his father was a suppressed homosexual. The police think that Thomas had sex with them and then killed them to remove any witnesses to his "weakness".

"Yeah," said Buzzy. "I could believe that. I was always worried about his relationship with Liz Jones. It didn't seem natural or real to me. He had never had a girlfriend in high school and had constantly maligned and bullied several girls that had acted as if they like him. He never made a move on me. He only spoke to me about guns and a possible career in police work, but I knew that his dad, Bert's grandfather, had molested and beaten Carlton many times. I knew this would not bode well for Carl's future, so I always helped him and gave him sympathy when he needed it. I was always there for him. That is why I hired him after his questionable eviction from his last home in Indiana. Now, I feel like I invited this disaster into our homes."

"No, Buzzy," said Asia. "We befriended a confused young man in the form of Bertram Thomas, gave him a chance in life, and caught a very dangerous man."

"We haven't caught Carlton yet."

"We will," commented Asia, firmly.

Buzzy jumped in, "Hopefully. When he hears all of this on the news and sees himself on Wanted posters in the Post Office, he will react to it emotionally - with anger, fear or surprise. It will give us an edge. Carlton has never been known for his emotional self-control. The whole thing makes me sad for his victims and sad and afraid for him, also. I guess I thought I could save him."

"Yeah, Buzzy."

The news traveled wicked fast around the shocked homes of the farming hamlet of Silver Lake. Everyone who hadn't had the misfortune of knowing Officer Thomas, memorized his face which played on the television screens of the morning, afternoon and evening cable news programs. Every new detail of the Thomas manhunt and ever-developing stories from his criminal background were reported in detail with film clips and photos in an in-depth mini-series on Elise Jamison's Mississippi River Journal.

The three professionals: Asia Reynolds, Elise Jamison and Sergeant Sheila Rodriguez went into a cooperative high gear, despite the fact that Elise was expected to give birth any minute. She had told Asia as the two of them integrated a filmed internet interview of Liz Jones with statements of Chief Buzzy Ackerman declaring he was temporarily stepping down from his position in the Silver Lake Police Department in order to be of more use to the FBI investigation spreading into Missouri. He was the Federal agency's most valued personal history profiler in this case and needed the extra time to help with Thomas's capture.

Chief Ackerman made Sheila Rodriguez acting Chief of the SLPD and promoted her to Captain with a pay raise. He felt her fine police work and sociable attitude towards their fellow townspeople would be refreshing and help heal the wounds that former Officer Thomas had inflicted on Silver Lake. He was correct.

The first thing Sheila did was to declare a general amnesty on any unpaid parking tickets that Officer Carlton Thomas had written. The unfortunate townspeople that had been caught in that trap were jubilant and decorated their homes with Christmas lights, lighting up Silver Lake's shoreline with fireworks at night. Possible refunds on previously paid tickets were also on the town's new agenda. Captain Rodriguez and her famous motorcycle were welcomed everywhere with free bagels at Zinski's; free Bar-B-Que at Franklin's Rib Shack; free ice cream wherever it was served and free rides at the carnival area.

Of course, Tobias Smart and Michael Diamond had much to say about former Officer Thomas. The wealthy financier Tobias Smart and his life partner Michael were very busy with Elton Jamison in designing and building a huge water park amusement area to add to Silver Lake's tourist lure. It would include some winter sport arenas as well, such as a skating rink and toboggan chutes. But this did not divert them from their avid concern for seeking justice.

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# Epilogue:

Analysis of the Crimes, the Chase & the End

Michael Diamond and Tobias Smart were both gay men and were familiar with a couple of the gay men's bars that Carlton Thomas was purported to have frequented. They, of course, were horrified by the murders affecting their community. They were afraid for the future. Carlton Thomas was still at large.

Both men felt that Carlton Thomas was one of the most dangerous types of suppressed homosexuals. They felt his murders of innocent gay male prostitutes was an attempt to hide his own sexuality. Or, he was simply taking malicious advantage of a minority within a minority. The two men felt that these murders were a power thing for him. Tobias strongly felt that this is what happens when the oppression of homosexuals turns inward, when the oppressors force gay people into the closet - they create a hatred of self and possibly gay serial killers. As in suppression (from the fear of being outed) equals a murderous cover-up.

Most of the gay men (and women) that Diamond and Smart knew liked gay male prostitutes as friends and felt compassion for them, hating it when they were abused. The two men were both lifetime members of Gay Liberation in Los Angeles.

Tobias brought up the case of the shooter at "Pulse" (the gay male bar in Florida that was attacked with an automatic weapon). Many people might have missed the report that announced the fact that the so-called conservative Muslim shooter had previously frequented the bar as a patron and had tried to pick up other gay men. But he couldn't admit he was gay or there was a larger back story including the fact that conservative Muslims in Muslim countries behead gay men. Not making it easy to visit his home country, especially with a gay lover.

Society creates these serial and multiple killers. One could say to the oppressive public: "See what you did?! See what you have done?!" Societies such as these create murderers with their oppression of homosexuals, and it doesn't stop even when the oppression stops. It is like a hidden infection, it continues.

Michael made a good point by responding that there is a kind of suppressed artificiality in gay men that become gay because a Catholic or other "religious" person, (or male relative or neighbor) molested them as children. They might not see gayness as the celebration of a new love. They can feel like they were taken advantage of and their instinctive gay responses or cravings lack freedom of choice and they feel the need to keep their gayness hidden at all cost.

This can create rage, such as seen in Carlton Thomas's actions and reputation. Men like Carlton see gayness as something dirty and scary. Something that makes them inferior to a "normal" person.

Michael said, "Is Carlton Thomas voluntarily gay? I don't think he thinks so. He is too compulsive and angry. Like Dahmer's motivation for murder, he needs to hide his gayness. He feels that he has to hide himself."

Tobias nodded and added, "He has to hide his sexuality in order to express a 'safe' sexuality through the murder of any partner. He went to gay bars, was liked, accepted and picked up friendly male prostitutes. He killed them because he still hated what his father had done to him. He hated himself.

He is still afraid of his dad who is dead. He is still terrified of him, what he turned him into and his judgments. Just like we hate being forced to be straight or heterosexual, he feels he was forced to be gay. Therein lies his rage against us and his hatred of himself."

Michael commented that Bert had said on Elise Jamison's Mississippi River Journal, "We won't have to chase him for very long. My grandfather made him not only into a sociopath and psychopath, but also afraid of his imposed sexuality or afraid of any sexuality that led to a relationship. Afraid of love."

Tobias leaned back on his balcony divan and continued, as he watch the golden sun set over the Mississippi river in a breathtaking twilight show, "After thousands of years of violent oppression, we are supposed to immediately rid ourselves of the legacy of that violence. Look at what happened to Oscar Wilde not so long ago in 1895. He was jailed for being homosexual and had to do two years hard labor in weak health, dying of cerebral meningitis and an ear infection five years later in 1900, during his exile in Paris. Many historians feel his ill health is directly attributable to the hard labor he did in prison because he was gay."

Michael added with tears in his eyes, "It is a sorry fact that there are criminally violent responses to gay oppression. There is also the famous case of Richard Loeb and Nathan Leopold who were homosexual lovers and murdered Loeb's cousin Bobby Franks. What is the real back story to that? It is hidden somewhere in history. It is a common belief that the two sexually molested Franks and that was their motivation for killing him.

"Or the more common story of the oppressive anti-homosexual relative being murdered by the gay people they persecuted like the case of the famous mystery author Anne Perry and her lifetime lover and partner, Pauline Parker. Pauline's mother was so oppressive to the two young lovers that they plotted and murdered her in their home country of New Zealand. They now live in Scotland but are still not permitted to even see each other legally, let alone live together. The legal system has so far successfully kept them apart. That is appalling. An appalling lack of justice.

"Then, of course, we all know the infamous origin of the French word faggot...the English translation being 'stick'. This is a crude historical reference to the fact that gay Medieval European men were bound together at the stake and burned to death when discovered. We were nothing but fuel for their fires."

"I know..." said Tobias, caressing Michael's shoulder. "So, we can look at heterosexual society and again say, 'See what you've done?!'"

"It is just so hard to be afraid of our own brothers," stated Michael.

"That's the thing that makes such damaged gay men like Carlton so dangerous. We are different than him, so very open to all gay men as brothers."

"That's not going to change, either."

"No way. We are one. That will remain our sense of unity and trust - might be naive but that is who we are."

__________

Carlton Thomas did not miss the news about his new accusations. He no longer needed to visit his house in Silver Lake to take care of his captives. The Feds knew almost everything. He knew they had found the skeletons in the yards of his former homes. He wondered angrily how much Bertram was involved with these revelations. Not having to go back to Silver Lake was actually a relief, though.

Carlton moved deeper into the forests of the Ozark mountains. He grew a full beard, shaved his head and had managed to avoid detection for almost a month so far.

Slowly, Carlton gravitated towards Springfield, Missouri and Mountain Home, Arkansas to pick up his supplies and groceries. He had sold his black truck and gotten another one, which he used stolen plates for, switching them frequently. He as not living in town and felt it was safer to park his camper at least an hour's drive outside of any heavily populated area, moving at least once a week.

On one shopping trip he discovered a small gay men's bar in Mountain Home by the railroad tracks. He was delighted, but nervous. He went over there late one Saturday night. He caught the interest of one of the bartenders who seemed to be flirting with him. When the bar was close to closing, they approached each other. Benny, the bartender, agreed to accompany Carlton to his camper. He had his own car, so he followed Carlton out to his trailer but disappeared before the two of them had parked.

Carlton was confused, scared and furious when he discovered that Benny was gone. There was no way anyone would have recognized him all the way out here in the forests of the Ozark foothills. Or so he figured.

But that is exactly what had happened. Benny was a bartender from one of the bars Carlton had frequented in Indiana. One of his roommates, who worked as a part time prostitute, had gone to Carlton's house one night and never returned. Benny had recognized Carlton as the guy that was accused of killing so many gay prostitutes on the national cable news. As soon as he was sure he was correct, he had followed Carlton to see where he was staying, got on his cell phone and called the police. They told Benny to leave, of course, and that they were on their way.

Carlton, though, hitched up his fifth-wheeler and began to pull his trailer away. He was slightly drunk and a little exhausted and dizzy, but he had loaded a couple of handguns and strapped them in his ankle and sidearm holsters. He packed a knapsack full of camping supplies and ammunition just in case he had to run into the woods on foot to avoid capture.

Meanwhile, the Missouri State Police had arrived at his former campsite hidden in the woods. Benny had positively identified Carlton as the former police officer from Silver Lake, Illinois that was wanted for multiple murders throughout the Midwest. Since his crimes had crossed state lines, the FBI was contacted. They had the state police in both Missouri and Illinois set up check points on as many major throughways as possible. There was no way Carlton Thomas could enter Illinois or Kentucky without going through a check point.

Unfortunately, Carlton Thomas was heading towards the deep south and wanted to follow the Mississippi through Kentucky to provide some food (via fishing) for his journey. He had no intention of staying in Illinois, but figured his way was clear - especially early in the morning, around three am. He could not have been more wrong.

The FBI and State Police had, within an hour of transmitting Benny the bartender's sighting of Carlton Thomas, set up dozens of check points. At about four am Carlton approached his first check point. He knew they were looking for him. He made a three point turn and pulled onto a dirt road. Filled with confusion, he parked his camper, grabbed his backpack and ran into the woods. He finally fell to the ground, exhausted, deep in the woods, and fell asleep underneath some bushes near a stream. He had no idea where he was, or even what state he was in. He knew he couldn't drive anymore without running into more check points and that the State Police were now active in looking for him on all major roadways.

__________

Nothing ever came of the intensive police search for Carlton Thomas. A month later, a half-eaten body washed up on the Missouri side of the Mississippi on the shores of Mingo National Wildlife Refuge. Someone fishing off the shore had snagged it and called the nearest Ranger station. The fisherman had hauled the decayed body onto the shore and the Ranger notified the Missouri State Police who had the local Coroner pick up and examine the body.

Through DNA comparisons with Bert Thomas and the remains of a wallet, the body was positively identified as Carlton Thomas. There was a bullet lodged in the body's cranium, so it was forensically determined that Carlton, finding no way out, had committed suicide.

Bertram Thomas felt both a little sad about the needlessly violent life his father had lived and relieved that he was now free of him. He was doing well at the Academy and headed for flight school and hopefully, ultimately, a career with Rainier Voss at NASA.

Sylvie Reynolds was planning on spending the rest of the summer practically living in her Aunt Asia's barn. When Carlton Thomas was declared dead, she had moved out of the Almonte household and surrounded herself with rescued animals and dove into caring for them. She told her aunt that she missed Bert terribly and was tired of most people. She simply wanted the solace of a fur family and their gratitude for her loving care. Her aunt totally understood, sometimes feeling the same way herself. She hugged her and let her do as she wished.

Sylvie and Bert made plans to see each other during the Thanksgiving holiday and again over Christmas. Bert wanted to come back to Silver Lake and stay at his new home on the Almonte ranch where he was always welcome. He was forever grateful to his new family, the Almontes. He was excited to possibly meet Maria Luisa over the Thanksgiving holiday. Maria Luisa was Papa Almonte's ex-wife. Unfortunately, no one else was that all-fired, excited to see her. She had a reputation for being just a little manipulative, to put it mildly. Chico was usually pretty mild about her presence. Cisco, who could not stand his mother because of some old grievances, was making plans to travel over Christmas and maybe even Thanksgiving in order to avoid her. Julio, the youngest brother, did not care and figured he could hide out with Bert in his room and play computer games.

Asia felt tired and sad that their lives had once more been touched with such useless violence because of the Thomas affair. She was pleased that her computer research skills had once again provided the evidence to bring closure to a major criminal's killing spree and help to bring him down. The entire town of Silver Lake now seemed lighter and happier. People stopped more often to greet each other on the street and there were more picnics in the town park. Folks were no longer afraid to take their families on excursions along the shores of the river. The parking ticket problem had gone away, too. Happily, very far away.

After Rainier Voss was debriefed by the FBI, he packed and got ready to catch his flight back to the Kennedy Space Center in Florida. Elise Jamison just about managed to get herself an ambulance to the Silver Lake Hospital and gave birth to two fine, healthy twin babies - a boy, Dylan, and a girl, Deirdre.

So, new lives and a new generation had begun. Yes, from the ashes of their tribulations, new life had arisen, and Silver Lake once again celebrated its freedom.

The children. These children were a new vision of the future. They embodied the purity and the happiness that they were born to create. They were like a new dance. An amazing new dance where people asked, "How do they do that?!" The answer being, "They have the freedom to do what they do."

The question is - "Where does that freedom come from?" That is childhood. That is the future of these two babies - Dylan and Deirdre Jamison. This is the beginning of a new era in Silver Lake. A new world. A brand new vision - something better for everyone. Everyone. All sentient beings. A brand new world.

Doesn't everyone wish that for their child?

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#

About the Author

SOPHIA WATSON LIVES in n. Maine ten minutes from the Canadian border and has lived in southern Alaska, Los Angeles, Virginia and Missouri. She was born in Illinois on converted, newly suburbanized farmland. She has owned a few fine, intelligent, beautiful dogs...including three husky mixes - Mitzie, Stihl and Duke. She presently owns an apartment-friendly, well-trained Yorkshire Terrier named Sparky, Sherlock, Biggie Smalls...Mushroom, Portly or Fi Fi depending on mood.

She graduated magna cum laude from Boston University and attended Harvard for graduate school. She has been writing since she was about ten years old.

She is a donor and advocate for a few third world Humane organizations - Soi Dog in Thailand; Animal Aid Unlimited in India; Hope for Paws in the United States and others.

She has also been an advocate for Gay Rights for about fifty years and has ties to the Gay community. Her Gay character descriptions are firsthand.

She has maintained her own wood pile for a wood stove and is handy with a log-splitting ax and a caution with a Poulan Woodshark chainsaw, ATV and snowmobile.

You are invited to visit her on Facebook. Go to silverlakemysteries.wixsite.com/sophia-watson for the link.

Sophia also writes under Cathy Smith (poetry and short stories) and the pseudonym Zara Brooks-Watson (The Bonaventura Cozy Mysteries - which are semi-historical).

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Did you love _That Summer in Silver Lake_? Then you should read _Solstice_ by Sophia Watson!

**_Solstice_** is the second of our Cyber-Crime mini-series within the _Silver Lake Cozy Mystery_ series. The first being **_Snow Angels_**. In this volume, former hacker criminal, Jake Wheeler almost gets corralled in an attempt to regain his normal urban life in London. He runs and succeeds in getting to his grandfather's private island in the Outer Hebrides in Scotland. Of course, he is not totally free, but does gain a couple of hacker advocates from the organization, _Anonymous_. He makes some very tough decisions helped by local Scottish royalty, the Earl of Sutherland and his Falconer.

Dive into the Deep Web with an Onion Browser & learn about Bitcoin, its machinery, software and its advantages. Interested in computer wizardry and the European experience? This book is for you!

Read more at Sophia Watson's site.
Also by Sophia Watson

Silver Lake Cozy Mysteries

It All Comes Out in the Wash

Snow Angels

That Summer in Silver Lake

Solstice

Watch for more at Sophia Watson's site.
