Merrville County- Mueller Mobile Home Park

  Mackey Residence

  Friday Evening

  Madison is asleep on the couch, one arm draped inside Jamie's bassinet, when James pulls up in the driveway. The tired new mother jolts awake, sitting up on the couch. Not long after nursing the baby, Madison had fallen into a nightmare-filled slumber. The sun is only a few minutes from setting. But James is finally home. That's all that matters.

  Climbing off the couch, and scrambling to the front door, Madison opens the door before James can insert his key. She studies his weary face in the porch lighting.

  "James? Anything new? Is everything okay?"

  "Well...Yes. And no."

  James kisses Madison lightly on the lips before stepping into the house. He flicks on the switch nearest the door, flooding the living room with pale yellow light. Madison wraps an arm around James' neck and brings his face down to her level, kissing him again.

  "What do you mean, James?" Madison pleads.

  "I mean, besides the Chief saying he might have to suspend me...In order to make the locals happy...Nothing is going too good right now. But it hasn't gotten any worse. Yet."

  "Oh no. Suspend you? No."

  "Oh yeah," James commiserates almost to himself. "The facts of this case aren't shaping up fast enough for some folks. They want my head on a silver platter until there are more answers. If they don't find a body in the river tomorrow..."

  Detective Mackey, realizing he may have said too much, brings his explanation to a halt. After a brief moment of indecision, he smiles wistfully down at Madison and pulls her into a kiss.

  "Oh...To hell with it. And to hell with damned procedure. After everything I've done for this department...I think I owe you a full explanation, Maddie. You're my wife. I can't keep you in the dark anymore."

  Madison studies her husband with hawkish attention. She cradles his solemn face between her slender hands.

  "Tell me, James."

  -

  -

  Castleton Police Department

  Chief O'Leary's Office

  The clunky phone on the edge of the chief's desk rings just as he takes a sip of his piping hot black coffee. Glancing at the Caller ID, Paul swallows down the beverage in his mouth and presses the key which activates the speakerphone.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

  "Yeah, Bertram. What's up?" Paul inquires of the local coroner.

  "Uh...Hello, Chief. I wanted to tell you... Detective Mackey's hunch about Officer Melbourne being dead long before that weird phone call was one-hundred percent correct. I'm thinking...Almost thirty to forty-five minutes prior. Based on my findings so far. This was obviously planned. Now, by whom...I can't say."

  "Hmmm," O'Leary sighs under his breath. "Yeah. Too bad the autopsy can't give us that...At the moment. You find anything else...Strange, Bertram? For instance, had Francine had sex recently? Was she violated in any way? Any traces of bodily fluids? Stuff like that?"

  "Not that I can find, Chief. I mean...She wasn't raped. If that's what you mean?" Bertram reluctantly states. "Why do you ask?"

  "Customary. Especially, with the odd details of this case. That...And I had a disturbing theory run by me today. Mitch Turner...That insufferable bastard...Has this theory that maybe Mackey and Melbourne were seeing each other. Maybe they broke up and Mackey went crazy. I know it's a wild theory, but I need to rule everything out. I want you to check for me, Bertram. Be as thorough as you can. Report back to me whatever you find."

  "Right, Chief. I will do."

  "Thanks, Bert."

  Chief O'Leary ends the call by depressing the speakerphone button a second time. He scowls across the room at his office door. The Chief's voice becomes a low growl.

  "Damn it, Mackey! Why couldn't you have just gone home?"

  -

  -

  Undying Rage Nightclub

  Late Friday Evening

  Rachel enters the back room and hangs up her jacket. Another bartender rushes past her as she exits the employee lounge.

  "Excuse me," the young man says and keeps moving.

  "Hmmm. Haven't seen him around here before," Rachel muses. "Kinda cute."

  Rachel makes her way to the bar. She stops long enough to wash her hands at the tiny sink situated to the right of the wall taps. Derren, the bar owner, steps closely behind her--as Rachel is drying off her hands on a wad of brown paper towels.

  "Hello, Rachel. You doing okay, tonight? I thought you weren't coming in?" Derren says, a playful smile on his lips. "Ned told me you two were on the mend? Doing a little recreational...You know?"

  Rachel turns from Derren and subtlety rolls her eyes. She pretends to be too concerned with making sure her damp paper towels end up in the trash can.

  "I'd prefer not to talk about Ned, right now," Rachel says in a hoarse whisper. "We were on the mend. But, Ned had other plans. And I need the money. So...Here I am."

  Rachel does not glance up as she speaks. Had she done so, she might've noticed Derren's eyes sliding across every inch of her body. Ned isn't the only man with other plans.

  "Has the bar been busy, this evening?" Rachel asks, finally gazing up at Derren. "I hope we draw a lot of customers."

  "Me too," Derren laughs. "But no. More steady than anything. It might pick up though, the game doesn't end for another thirty minutes. Depending on who loses...We may have a good night. Or a very good night."

  Rachel chuckles at Derren's joke, slipping on an apron over her spare uniform. Her teal jogging suit is inside her shared locker. No point encountering Ned unless absolutely necessary.

  "Isn't that the truth?" Rachel says.

  Derren watches Rachel as she heads to the other side of the bar. He studies her from a distance as she unrolls a length of parchment paper to be placed under that evening's used glasses. Rachel has been a clean freak since the day they met. If she wants to pay for parchment paper out of her own tips, so be it.

  Frustration bubbles to the surface of Derren's mind. How does Ned land a faithful woman like that? Everyone knows the bastard beats the poor woman and cheats on her. Yet, she keeps going back. How he wouldn't love to make love to a woman like Rachel just one time. Rachel's more than straight-laced attitude towards work relationships is the only reason he hasn't openly approached her yet. Nothing like her sister at all. For the time being.

  Rachel looks up from her task, catching Derren as he peers in her direction. She offers him a quick wave. Derren shows Rachel all of his pearly whites. Money can work wonders. How much money will it require to take Rachel off of Ned's hands?