Posts Tagged ‘detective’

“Paging doctor emery, Paging doctor emery, ext 246” The intercom sounded and disappeared into the background. LC paced in the emergency room waiting area. He could tell that he was making those around him nervous, the mothers with their sick children, and all the others waiting outside for their family members who were carted off and tucked away in unseen rooms behind curtains being cared for. LC was a bundle of emotions, worry, anger, excitement and furry. He wanted to lash out at something so badly. His fists were balled and his knuckles drained of blood and white, skin taught against the joints of his fingers. One of his fists was to his side and the other was placed firmly against his upper teeth. He dug into it until he could finally feel the pain. There was no doubt in his mind who had done this to his friend. No doubt who would pay for this. The law was now far removed from his mind, all semblances of getting justice were now skewed to getting revenge, which was a whole new game. LC could live with getting shot at and taking a bullet, but when his friends and loved ones were brought into this it was a whole knew game and there was a new set of rules to live by. He could feel his breathing growing deeper and more forceful. Anger began to overcome all other emotions. He was a bull, tormented and caged, trying to break free and run around the arena, finding anything to point its fury at.

The walls of the emergency room began to close in on him, making him feel their presence more and more. The fluorescent light buzzing inside his head, the eyes of all those waiting patients and worried others began to pierce into his mind. He could not take it any longer and stormed out of the waiting area. He jogged past the admittance desk and found the sliding doors that opened to the entrance of the ER. He slowed just in time for the doors to open and burst out into the cold night air. The relief was immediate but fleeting. Indigo, the man in black, they would all pay for this, somehow. His mind was humming with scenes of revenge and wrath.

LC found himself walking away from the hospital. He had no idea what he was doing, just walking, staying in motion, trying to use some of the energy and adrenaline that he had built up inside of him. The private detective had seen some bad things in his life, being a cop it was part of the job, but it was easier to remove yourself and stay focused when the victim was not linked so closely to you. He had however never seen someone so tortured as he had his friend, and especially that he had survived the beating and pain, so far. LC wanted to know more about sam’s chances but the doctors quickly kicked him out of the room when he began to get in the way with his worrying and questions. He was angry at them too, but could not blame them.

As LC walked he looked down at his hands in the darkness and saw the black streaks in the dim light of the blood that was beginning to dry on his hands and shirt. He looked a menacing fright to anyone who saw him, his tan polo shirt stained in blood, sam’s blood. Stumbling over a curb he came to a patch of grass shaded by trees and a bench. The area was meant to be a respite for those visiting sick ones, or a place for workers to get some fresh air. He knelt down upon the grass and rubbed his hands in the cold dewy grass, trying to wipe the blood from his hands. Furious he rubbed them until they were a mix of grass dirt and blood. He pounded his fists into the ground  and slouched down, feeling defeated.

He could not get the image of the basement out of his head. No man should ever have to endure such pain. If he wanted to hurt him just do it, just finish it. The tormentor had to enjoy this, get some pleasure from it to inflict such agony and still have the man alive. The means used were interrogation at its darkest. The kind that the outside world did best not knowing about. This character was a real threat and not to be taken lightly. He sent an obvious calling card by his actions tonight. Sam was in this place because of him. LC brought this on his friend, he was the bringer of death to those he was closest too. He began to beat himself up, more and more, his fists now pounding into his thighs. He even punched at his wounded side so that he could feel the sharp pain that he deserved. His scream cracked through the stillness of the night.

As he sat there on that cold November night, snowflakes began to fall from the sky. Their white icy dots landing on the man’s thinning hair, melting quickly. The season was changing again, soon fall would turn into winter and the snow would stay around longer forming a blanket of white everywhere. Hiding the death of the season past. LC tipped his head back and closed his eyes letting the flakes land upon his face. The cool feeling was a relief against the heat that had built up from his emotions. He did not move. The body of the detective stayed still, trying to let the cold take him to his core, to let it cool the fire inside of him. It only served though as a sharp contrast, the cold and quiet of the late autumn night, versus the fire and passion of the emotions inside of him.

“LC?” A man called out as he approached the grassy area from across the parking lot. LC did not respond except for to lower his head again. The moisture from the snow streamed slowly down his face. “LC what are you doing out here?” Barry stepped towards the man and lade a hand on his shoulder. “You are going to get yourself sick”

“I deserve it Barry, I deserve it” He said not looking at the man, his eyes still closed.

“Are you alright? You look terrible. You are shivering” The man shook his shoulder lightly trying to get him to look up at him, it was no use though. “What happened….I am not taking a statement right now, the time will come, I am just asking as a friend” Barry remained standing behind him, hand still resting on his shoulder.

“I should be the one in that hospital room, not Sam, he did not do anything wrong!” Anger filled his voice again.

“Did you do something wrong?” Barry asked and then shifted his weight a bit when LC did not answer “I am not implying that you did, just the way you said it”

“I just went after the truth, and found that there was a greater force trying to protect it. They used Sam to get to me, I’m sure of it. The bastard tortured him” LC took a deep breath trying to collect himself. The snow began to fall harder and harder, still not enough to accumulate on the grass, but enough to begin to soak his shirt. It began to cling to him. He began to shiver more forcefully.

“What man are you talking about?” This was the first he had mentioned it, maybe it was a slip. He was going to endanger even more.

LC shook his head quickly “I told sam too much, not even anything important and look where it got him. Do you think anyone who could do that would be stopped by a badge. I don’t think so, if I tell you anything else I am putting you in the damn headlights. I can’t” Barry released his hand from the kneeling man’s shoulder and took a seat on the steel bench that was a few feet away.

“LC, I can’t help you if I don’t know what is going on. I can still leave things from being included in anything official till we know what is going on, but Christ look at yourself, do you think you can handle this on your own, someone is already in the hospital over this!” barry immediately wanted to take the last words back as soon as they left his mouth but it was too late and hurt more for the fact that truth rang through them. LC shot the man a glare and stood up, walking a few feet off into the distance staring off into the blackness of the woods that lined the property of the hospital. “Even if you don’t tell me everything you are going to have to figure out some way to come up with a story for what happened and how you were the one to stumble upon the scene. Nothing can stop that from happening.”

LC hated to admit that the man was right. If he wanted to keep things shielded from the public eye till he knew more he had to have some other reason for finding sam the way he did. There was no easy solution. Barry could be a valuable resource, LC struggled with the idea though of putting someone else in harm’s way.

“LC I am a grown man, if I ask to help you and let me in on this I know that there are risks. I am not Sam” Barry rose from the bench and walked slowly up to his old partner. “I am a cop, I take risks every day, some more measured then others. It is part of the job. If this is risky so be it…. I just don’t want to see you shoulder it alone. You have to tell me what is going on. Otherwise no more coming and asking me for help without throwing me a damn bone. I won’t do it.”

LC turned to his partner, he would have smiled if he could. The man was loyal to the force but also loyal to what he thought was right. The two things did not always jive in the past, but a few years will change some of those feelings. Barry put his arm on his back and began to guide him back to the hospital.

“Now you gotta get back inside, your teeth are clattering worse than a locomotive. Come on” the two of them crossed the dark parking lot and went back into the warmth and light of the hospital emergency room. The night was far from over.



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Being that I am hopped up on cold meds and caffeine to counteract the drowsy effects I have no idea if what I am writing is any good. I don’t plan on rereading anything till the month is up though, so I may be pleasantly surprised or horrified.

Yesterday I was off, which was a blessing for two reasons. First I was able to get a head start on my writing for NaNoWriMo. I put in more than 9000 words which is roughly a little more than five days of writing. This is great because I never know when life is going to get in the way, even though that thought is funny if you know my life and how little comprises of its daily tasks. Second I am sick as a dog so it was nice to be off. Unfortunately I am just as sick today and have to go back out into the working world. I am sure that it will prove to be a long day of blowing my nose between helping customers. I would call in if I could but I don’t think they would appreciate that.

Regarding my story I am happy with where things are going write now. The characters are taking shape and my direction is changing as I go. I am enjoying writing about the private detective in my story. This is the kind of thing I have never really done before. MY writing in the past has always been in the sci fi and fantasy genre, sometimes even horror in short story form. It is fun to be creative in a different way. I was told though that mysteries can be difficult especially the way that I right, which is making a lot of it up as I go. I am sure there will be some trying times, hopefully though I will be able to work through them.

Anyways below I have included an excerpt from the story so far where the private detective is revealed. Let me know what you think.


Private Detectives Location


The office sat in the middle of a rundown strip mall just off of the highway. Half of the stores were shuddered up, signs of a small town bending under the weight of an economy that could no longer support it. Only two other businesses were left in business inside of its cookie cutter store front space. One of them was a used book store specializing in four for a dollar specials and where no real gems could be found or were already picked through and sold for much greater profit online. The second of the three occupied spaces held a cramped asian market that held all sorts of oddities and aromas that could not be deciphered, nor did many really want to know what they really were. The third little shop held an office. Nothing special about it. Plate glass out front read LC Everett PI. He was a rare breed in these woods. A detective trying to make his own way and not officed in a larger city. He would work there of course but drew the line at having to reside there. Everett enjoyed the slower pace of this area and was just fine with the slow business as long as he could always pay the bills, which was most months that is. The front room held two chairs and a receptionist desk that was never manned. The two chairs supposedly for if he ever had more than one client in at a time. Lc could not remember if that had ever actually happened. In the back office LC made his home among the file cabinets that held his years of work. Mostly spouses trying to catch their cheating significant others. And most of the time their hunches were dead on. He did not enjoy that part of the job. Confirming to individuals that there marriage truly was over and it was time to hire a lawyer instead of a private dick. There were good moments though, which were few and far between, and then there was the grey area that filled everywhere else.

LC was upper middle aged. Balding and big in stature. Not out of shape by any means but the kind of country big that one would find on the farm. In his youth he was the town hero. Football star in highschool. Promise and all that until an injury ended his playing days and he decided to take up law enforcement. He was a good cop. Honest and tenacious when it came to finding the truth. Many times at the cost of the law that he felt shielded criminals far too much. He left, on who’s terms he never says and started his own path to finding the truth where he would have the leeway and freedom to use the means necessary. He had regrets about the past, but those are just it, the past, now he deals in other peoples pasts.

Before him scattered on the desk were a few files. These files were not of the typical types that he saw come through his office. There were two names on the files. Each of them a case of a missing loved one. In each case there was no evidence of foul play and in each case the police never opened an investigation. These two cases were his hobby. The things he worked on during his own time. Cases that occupied him as a puzzle he could not solve. He was preparing for his weekly update. It was a task he felt obligated to complete even though he knew that it was not necessary. He looked over the first file and dialed the number having committed it to memory. He cleared his throat as the line rang. On the other end an elderly woman picked up the phone.

“Mrs. Harris?” he waited for her reply knowing already that it was the 70 year old woman he had spoken with weekly for almost two years now. “Yes Mrs Harris, its LC Everett…. Yes Mrs Harris” Her voice was distant and quiet as she spoke “No Mrs Harris, unfortunately I don’t have any good news. I have not found anything new yet…. I am sorry” She paused on the line and for a moment no one spoke “I will keep working to find your son mrs harris…” He looked at the picture of the 46 year old scientist. He looked like any average decent person. Missing for two years now and no new information. “Mrs Harris you do not need to worry about sending me any payment. We talked about this already” He paused to let her say she insisted. “If you want to send me anything send me some of that cranberry bread I love so much. We will call it even then…. Alright Mrs Harris. Have a good night”

With that he hung up the phone and set the picture back on the desk. He rubbed his fist into his eyes trying to relax away some of the strain. Not having the answers was the toughest part of the job. Not knowing, when knowing was what he did. He had spent thousands of his own money on these cases and could he say he was any closer? He sighed and picked up the second folder. “Angela Beal” This was a call that he would not have to make again. He was too late for this one. LC picked up the news paper on the far end of his desk and flipped it open. He set it down flat and looked in his desk. Rummaging for an item until he found what he was after. Withdrawing a pair of scissors he began to cut into the paper. Methodically he clipped out a small article the size of a common coupon. On it was the picture of a man. He found a pin and stood up walking over to the cork board on the far end of the room across from his desk. He pushed the pinned article into the board and stood there reading the obituary for the fifth time that day. The picture was that of Thomas Beal, loving husband of Angela Beal. The obit failed to state it but LC new the facts. Thomas Beal was found in his garage by a neighbor with his car running. He died of carbon monoxide poisoning. LC was too late for him. He failed Thomas and Angela too. He vowed to continue his search for answers.

He shook his head and grabbed his wool jacket off of the rack by the door as he headed from his office and locked the door. He had to touch base with the facts again. Or try to start from the beginning. It was a good thing he never married because if he was any wife would obviously think he was out cheating and would soon have another PI out investigating him. All they would find would be a man obsessed with his job and answers. This was his life, and it was his passion. At the moment he did not need anything else, except maybe for some black coffee, the kind of stuff that would raise the hairs on your neck. He knew just the place and smiled as he got into his dinged up Cadillac. It wasn’t pretty but atleast it was roomy and reliable. That was what he needed. He started the car and quickly pointed it in the direction of the Route 42 café.

He drove along the back roads and side streets, taking his time, taking in the surroundings. As always watching and observing. He loved the lifeblood of small towns and cities. They were always alive if not on as big a scale as the big cities, but here you could more easily pick out the character that completed the city as a whole. Every place this size had a living breathing life of its own. He could always feel its pulse and knew exactly where to get the most current information if you knew how to weed out the facts from the gossip. In LC’s mind gossip always had some truth in it. That is what would make it juicy.

(works copyright of the blog owner)

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Even though I decided to join the party a little late this year it seems an idea for a story to consume my NaNoWriMo participation is taking shape. The event starts on monday so I only have two more days to get some storylines and history together to begin to create the base for what I want. I started this morning and a few things slowly cleared out of the fog of my imagination. This year I am going to create a story that is heavily grounded in the things that I know. I am going to use some of my hardships over the past few years to create a character that has some realism and can bring some emotion to the page.

Now I am not saying that it will be a memoir of any kind. I just want to base the character a little on who I am and have the story take legs from there. So far I am enjoying the creative stage trying to pull ideas together. For a while I sat thinking and going between different genres, from the fantastical to the epic, and even some horror. Reality kept creeping its way back into my mind and I decided to give into those thoughts. I will ofcourse throuw some twists in and it still may deal with some supernatural mysteries and conspiracies. I will give you a little bit of a run down on what I am thinking.

The story will revolve around two central characters who are drawn together through a series of mysterious events. The first character will be the man modeled off of myself. A man who has seen more than his fair share of tragedies in his life. Two years ago the man lost his wife and daughter in a terrible accident that left their home in ruins following an explosion. Everything that his life was was ripped away from him in an instant. The grief and depression almost consumed his life to the point where his actions came very close to ending his time on earth. He found some strength to be able to soldier on and is living his life again when the past comes tumbling back into his life in the form of a mysterious letter regarding his wife….

The second character I will not give as much detail or backstory as I want this person to be more of a mystery and an unknown. I will say that the character is a private detective and that the two are drawn into a melded existence that has them both looking for answers.

The rest I am still figuring out as I go. I know that there will be some sort of a conspiracy and things will not seem as they trully are. I hope to post the story as I go so if you are so inclined you can feel free to read along. Hopefully tomorrow night and sunday night I get more time to draw up some plot points and ideas for some of the beginning chapters. The more I can get down the easier it will be to keep on writing.

Well I look forward to sharing more as I go and look forward to more posts.

Good night..



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