The Not So Quiet Festival (standard:mystery, 21948 words)
Author: deaconburke	Added: Oct 25 2006	Views/Reads: 3656/2860	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A Mysterious Photographer attends an art festival and gets involved in more than the arts.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


"No, I'm not smoking anything. I need you to fix this thing so it is
dependable, and to do it cheap." 

"First of all I can't get the parts for this monster, and second nothing
I do is cheap." 

"I don't want you to restore it, I want to be able to drive it. You know
go anywhere I want to go." 

"Then go buy a Ford truck," he suggested. Earl wasn't playing around, he
was just a naturally sour person. 

"Come on Earl, you know I'm into retro these days. I'm trying to get
something to help with my image. This will do it." 

"Are you planning to be a nurse? Get you one of those little white
things." He was looking at the red cross painted on the side of the 
truck. 

"No that goes, but first I want to make it run. Not just run but run
every time I turn the key." 

"Well that engine compartment is big enough to hold two modern engines
and still have room for a poker game in there. So what kind of power 
plant?" Earl was getting into the whole thing. I knew he would come 
around. 

"I want something so that even if I'm stuck in Podunk, a mechanic can
get the parts and fix it." 

"Small block Chevy," he said looking at the ambulance. He hadn't even
bothered to open the hood. Earl didn't care what was under the hood he 
could fix it. "I got one out there in the yard now. Kid had it rebuilt 
then drove into the back of an 18 wheeler." I didn't bother to ask if 
the engine was damaged. Earl wouldn't stick me. Earl was married to one 
of my sister. He wasn't the incompetent brother in law type. Earl was a 
guy who knew what he was doing, but he also knew what my sister would 
do, if he tried to screw me. I felt confident in his abilities. I also 
knew he would do it for a fair price. Of course I wanted a better than 
fair price. 

"So Earl, what will it cost me to get the drive train updated?" 

"How you would feel about Michael doing the work, him and a his auto
shop buddies." 

"What the heck, you talking about? Is Mike off the bottle yet?" 

"Mike don't drink," Earl was incensed. 

"The baby bottle Michael is just a kid." I replied. 

"Mike is 18. You just don't come around enough to know he is almost
grown. Besides, I'll have them boys do the work here so I can keep on 
eye on them." 

"Is this going to be their shop project?" 

"I guess, they do one at school it is their grade, but I promised to
show them how it rally works in the world. It will take a little longer 
but I won't charge you any extra. I'll just charge you a hundred bucks 
labor for each kid. That's a deal for you and will give them some 
pocket money." 

So that's how I came to be driving a Chevy powered Dodge ambulance on
that sunny late summer day. The ambulance tooled along to the sounds of 
California Dreaming drifting from hidden speakers in the rear. The 
hidden CD player ran the disk of traveling music over and over. I had 
installed lots of nice things in the old truck, but hid them away out 
of sight. I was still after the retro look. \cf0 In keeping with the 
retro theme, I wore a Hawaiian shirt that morning. It hung over my 
double pleated cotton twill slacks. It could have gone as retro or just 
weird, I suppose. The straw Panama hat would make it a little more 
retro than kooky, at least that as my hope. The tiny round sunglasses, 
which I kept in a case, were only to be worn at the shows. 

I had two fairly authentic suits from the early forties. They came from
a costume studio that failed. Having them altered was more difficult 
than locating the suits. Those costume guys tended to come and go. The 
suits looked baggy on me but that was the style back then. The same was 
true of the cotton slacks I wore that day. 

It was also true of the older style jeans which I mostly wore when I did
my real gig. My real gig was real estate photography. Yes I made 
pictures of houses for insurance companies and banks mostly. A small 
percentage came from other things I picked up along the way, but the 
steady money was in houses. 

My life revolved around retro photography at the art shows, a few retro
portraits in my studio, an occasional odd ball job, but mostly trash 
digital photography shot from a tiny Ford Festiva. The mini Ford was my 
office, and on most weekdays it was also my dining room and photo lab. 

All the real estate work was made possible by the modern invention of
the digital camera, the laptop computer, and the cell phone. I worked 
for several people on the same day, but frankly if they could have 
gotten a driver's license for a monkey, they wouldn't have needed me at 
all. In other words it paid barely better than nothing. I was still 
waiting for my big break. It was most likely going to be a long 
fruitless wait. Hope springs eternal in artists, I suppose. Very few 
people in my hometown saw me as an artist. I think my family and 
friends considered me an under employed loser, but I didn't mind it 
fitted into my image. \cf0 You don't disappoint people unless they 
expect things from you. It was just easier to be what I was. I never 
did feel the need to measure up to what somebody else wanted me to be. 

How I managed to relive all that before I got out of the city limits was
a mystery even to me. I passed the city limits sign and left my real 
life behind. I stepped back to 1944. I had planned a route to the 
little town carefully. I had a good map and a sense of which direction 
to go, so I headed off with a smile and 60's music blaring. I know it 
was several decades out of place in the Dodge, but I just couldn't get 
into swing music. 

My little caravan was short enough to travel on the two lane roads, but
it was still dangerous. I drove along the interstate in spite of the 
constant reminder that it wasn't 1944 at all. All the indications were 
that it was past the year 2000. Driving down the super duper highway, 
my old Dodge and rolling thermos bottle got a lot of stares. When the 
people got close enough to see the guy in the Hawaiian shirt behind the 
wheel, the stares turned to smile usually. Sometimes I got a look of 
confusion or worse pity, but I didn't mind all that much. I was off for 
adventure, they weren't. 

At a point which I felt was close to half way, I found a rest area. I
stopped to relieve myself and to have lunch. Lunch was a pack of cheese 
crackers, an orange, and a canned cola drink from the ice box of the 
trailer. The ice box was just that. It was a thermal box with a smaller 
box in the bottom for ice. The ice compartment had a small drain which 
ran directly from the box through the trailer floor. A plastic tube 
constantly drained the water from the ice box. It was an arrangement 
suitable for about one to two bags of ice a day. Food was kept from 
spoilage. Cokes put in the ice tray at the bottom actually got cold. 

I generally used the ice box only to get things from my house to the
campground. If I couldn't get a space with power, I used it at the camp 
ground as well. Usually though the dorm sized refrigerator came into 
play. It was somehow attached to the ice box. I don't know how and I 
didn't ask. The camper supply store had it ready made when I was 
refurbishing the camper. The stove was no more than a cook top and 
microwave oven. I didn't need much since all I use it for was 
breakfast, or to heat a can of beans. 

"Nice rig you got there," the voice came from the male part of the
couple who stood outside my trailer. 

"Thanks, you want the two minute grand tour?" I asked it because trailer
people always wanted it. 

"Sure if you don't mind. We don't see many of these anymore." 

"I expect not." I noted the couple was a complete mismatch. She was
short and thin while he was tall and about thirty pounds over weight. 
They came inside the trailer so I showed them around. 

The whole rear was a sofa/bed. The little trailer was six feet six
inches wide on the outside. On the inside it was six exactly. The sofa 
had no arms because it was a bed, but it did have square pillows of 
high density foam which passed for a sofa back and smaller ones for 
arms. There was a window located above the sofa/bed. The metal 
awning/shutter was closed while the trailer rolled gently down the 
road. 

A small closet on each side separated the bed from the front kitchen.
There was a water tank on the floor of one of the closets. The sink had 
a small hand pump to suck the water from it. The pump looked like one 
of those things from an old ice cream parlor. It worked well enough to 
get a glass of water. I sometimes washed a knife or fork with the 
water, nothing more. The very front of the trailer was a counter which 
was hinged. It lay flat against the wall during travel and most all 
other times as well. There were a couple of white molded plastic chairs 
which were stacked in the corner. Those were held secure during travel 
by bungee cords. The trailer did have three nice old fashioned throw 
rugs on the floor. They covered most of the place and press tiles which 
I had installed. 

"Well it's small," the woman said. 

"Yes but I travel light." 

"I can see that," the man replied. "So where you headed?" 

"The coast, how about you?" 

"Yep, we are going fishing at Nags Head." Since I just nodded they
dropped it. "Well we better be getting back to the drive." 

"Yeah me to, drive careful," I replied as they headed out the door. \cf0
The second part of the drive was just as boring as the first. The 
traveling music and the waves to the people, who stared as they passed, 
filled my next two hours. The two hundred miles, on the good roads, 
should have taken about four hours absolute tops, it took me five and a 
half. I meandered about to be honest. I sometimes found myself being 
honked at as a traffic hazard. The long lunch hadn't helped my drive 
time either. Three P.M. on Friday isn't really a busy time for 
campgrounds. If they were going to be full at all it would by 8 P.M. 
that night. 

I chose a twelve buck a night minimum utilities site. It had an electric
hookup and a water faucet that got shared by two sites. Since my little 
water tank in the trailer was about eight gallons it wasn't a problem 
to fill it from a five gallon can. Most likely I wouldn't empty what I 
had brought from home. Since the filler spout was outside the trailer, 
behind a cute little door, I could do it at home with a garden hose. A 
much butter arrangement, I felt. 

I plugged up the heavy duty, outdoor rated, extension cord to the park's
power supply. After that I instantly had television, two channels, and 
radio. My ice box made that light fan noise so I knew it was running. I 
put some of the ice from the ice box into the small freezer unit, then 
moved the mustard and mayonnaise to the refrigerator. There weren't a 
lot of refrigerator items to move. The little freezer was designed to 
hold a couple of ice trays. I tossed those in favor of a little plastic 
bucket to hold crushed ice or three or four small frozen dinners. At 
that moment it was ice, since I hadn't been to the local grocery store. 


With the trailer gone, I went to scope out the town and festival
arrangement. Unlike most of the other vendors, I actually needed to be 
near a park or at least grassy area of some kind. If not that, then 
some kind of natural backdrop was necessary. I had long since given up 
on portable backdrops. Yes I did own 'photo shop' and even knew how to 
use it. I just didn't like to doctor prints, if I could avoid it. 

The town had a four lane highway right up to the city limits but that's
where all the modern things stopped. I sat at the exit of the freeway 
and looked at the signs. I'm a big believer in signs by the way. One 
sign read, service area, with an arrow pointing right. Another one 
read, downtown, with an arrow pointing left. I knew for a fact that I 
wanted to go downtown, but I also needed gas in the Dodge. The old 
ambulance had real wood strips attached. They were a remnant of Earl's 
burnt out hippie brain, I think. It looked more like an old woody wagon 
than an ambulance which suited me just fine. 

Gas came before recon, so I turned the woody right. I found not just a
mall but about every modern convenience imaginable. The shops were 
located in strips on each side of the highway. Everything from 
restaurants to home improvement stores could be found on that service 
road. Of course the mall and the Wal-Mart were prominent fixtures, one 
on each side of the road. I was beginning to feel less and less at home 
in my period dress and the old woody. 

I got more than a few stares from the locals as I filled the huge gas
tank on the Woody. The trip was likely to be a big loser for me, but I 
didn't measure retro photography by money. I measured it by the fun I 
had, and the images I made. It was a nice way to say, I endured the 9 
to 5 crap so that I could do the events, whether I made money or not. 
\cf0 I drove under the interstate bridge and then what must have been 
another mile or so to the downtown. I immediately felt at home again. 
There wasn't more than two building over four stories in the whole 
town. The downtown had been rehabilitated, but it wasn't done by some 
decorator trying to see how artistic he could be. It was done 
tastefully, with a sense of history and dignity. 

If I had lived there, I would have been thrilled. The town's population
was just to small or I might have just settled down with a cup of 
coffee and the houses for rent section of the small newspaper. It was a 
shame that the old river towns were so beautiful but yet so small. 
Maybe that's why they could maintain their dignity. 

Towns like mine had long ago whored themselves out for the sake of
growth. Still, I needed the larger population base for my business. I 
suppose that was the necessary trade off. I might really enjoy starving 
in the little town, but surely starve I would. 

There was a downside. Once you got past the historical exteriors, the
shops fell into two very different categories. They were either old, 
dark, and shabby, or bright and all tarted up. Neither of which was 
really appealing. The coffee shop with the cutesy name I avoided like 
the plague. I did find one older building which had the bricks cleaned 
and the trim painted as part of the downtown redevelopment but nothing 
else. It was a drug store. At least that's what the sign said. A 
smaller set of lettering on the glass said old time soda shop. I had a 
feeling it was going to be yuppie city but what the heck, I needed a 
coffee fix. 

The store was a strange mix of both old and gussied up. The finishes on
the walls and the soda shop furniture looked old as hell. However the 
lighting was definitely new and modern in design. Why the difference, I 
had no idea. 

"What can I get you?" the teenager asked. 

"I think a bowl of soup and a grilled cheese sandwich," I replied. 

"Kay," was her answer. Talkative little thing, I thought. 

"So what's the deal with the mini pharmacy?" I asked it looking at the
very small caged area at the back of the store. There was no storage 
space for drugs at all. The shelves between the soda fountain and the 
small caged area were filled with patent medicines, but no room was 
left for the real business of a drug store. 

"Oh she ain't no pharmacist. All she does is take the phone orders and
call them in to the guy at Riteco. He fills them and they deliver the 
drugs to us the next day already labeled. She just passes them out to 
the people and takes their money." 

"What if she gets mixed up when she relays the order." 

"She makes them check the drugs and sign that they have the right
prescription. Besides most of it is refill stuff. Not many people 
bother with drugs here except maybe the ones who work downtown and 
there's not many of them." 

I could tell by her nervous gestures that she wanted to get back to her
magazine. "Thanks, I just never saw anything like it." 

"Get asked about her all the time, the fact that she is drop dead
gorgeous doesn't help either." 

"Oh I hadn't noticed." We both knew that I was lying. \cf0 After the
canned soup filled with salt and hot sauce, I drove to the park where 
the exhibitors would be showing their wares. It wasn't just the park of 
course. The town closed the road which ran along the river front. 

I was more than a little surprised to see a woman with a clipboard
standing on the curb. She was standing with her back to the river while 
looking at the road. Since the next day was the opening of the 
festival, I made a guess that she was with the festival promoter. Most 
likely she had the space assignments on her handy dandy clipboard. 

I parked the Woody a few spaces from where she stood. I didn't want to
block her view of the cars or theirs of her. 

"Hi, I'm the Retro Man, am I on your list?" The woman was even older
than me. She must have been at least forty. Not a lot until you see her 
forty and my thirty five. She was an old forty, and I thought I was a 
young thirty five. Most likely she saw it just the opposite. 

"Retro Man, yes you are. You are in space 71." I know I gave her a look
that was a combination of lost and amused. "Here, this is your map. We 
would have sent them along with your receipt for the space, but they 
were an after thought." 

"Well let me find my space. I don't want to be lost in the morning." 

"No you don't. Set up starts at 6 a.m. and must be finished by nine.
People are usually wandering though even before that." I nodded as I 
turned away. There was nothing more to say. During the Governor's 
riverfront project a few years before, someone had designed a small 
grassy area behind beautiful iron posts and chains. It would be a great 
natural background for portraits. No need for the ole photo shop on 
this trip, I though. I wasn't exactly beside the park but it was a 
short walk to it. I wasn't going to have any problem finding 
backgrounds. 

The rules of the show explained that I could bring my car into the
festival grounds between six and eight. It just had to be out of the 
area by 8:01 or else. The else wasn't defined, but I was sure the 'or 
else' would involve a lot of begging. Not to many festivals had the 
courage to tow an exhibitors car for staying five minutes over. A rep 
for that and you would get a lot fewer exhibitors the next year. 

All the spaces lined the city streets around the park and even on the
access road into the park. The keep off the grass sign was a pretty 
obvious hint. It would most likely to be ignored at some point during 
the next couple of days. 

When I was absolutely sure that I knew how to find the space in the
dark, I headed out to explore the town. Let me tell you the first thing 
I learned was that the old streets were not designed for the woody. It 
was close going in some of the back streets. Cars parked along the 
sides made it a one way street for me. The small econobox cars managed 
to pass each other, but the Lincoln town cars and I weren't going to 
make it. 

I stopped by a grocery store for a pound of ground beef and a hamburger
helper meal. With a little luck, and a plastic storage container, I 
could get two meals from it. I didn't plan to be in town much longer 
than that. I did get a large bag of chocolate covered Oreo cookies. 
Well not Oreo the knock off brand. I would have bought coke knock off, 
but I always brought a case of cans with me. 

Once I had the small bag of groceries installed in cabinets and the
refrigerator, I untied one of the plastic chairs and sat it outside the 
trailer. That along with a TV tray with a coke and radio was my 
complete evening plan. Oh yeah, and the cookies of course. Somewhere 
along the way I would need to cook the hamburger glop. Otherwise I 
planned to sit on my fat ass until bedtime. But alas, the best laid 
plans ect.\cf0 

It must have been close to ten when I heard the loud voices. A heavy
man's voice and then an excited woman's voice filled the night air. 
Since I am a nosey bastard, I tried to judge the distance and direction 
but came up short. 

I turned the volume on the radio up so that I could ignore them. I
supposed that someone else had called the park ranger. The trailer's 
outside light burned over my head. It was the only illumination, since 
I hadn't built a fire. I was most likely a lot more visible to her as 
she approached, than she was to me. If she had been visible to me in 
detail, I might have went inside and locked the door behind me. I 
probably should have done just that. 

I expect she chose me because it was better lit on my space than the
other spaces, also because I looked harmless. The white hair was very 
deceptive. Maybe, just maybe, she didn't think about any of that. She 
was moving quickly and looking over her shoulder. I determined that 
from the way she moved. She was literally almost falling forward with 
every step. 

She was a mess, small scratches and red splotches on her skin which
would soon be bruises. One of her eyes was almost completely swollen 
shut. 

"What in the world?" I asked it even though I was pretty sure of the
answer. 

"Help me, please help me." She burst into tears as she clutched at me.
She was loud enough so that the people in the next space looked out of 
their camper. 

"Call the ranger," I shouted over at them. It never entered my mind that
they might not be able to do it. I figured that I was the only one left 
on the planet who did not own a cell phone. 

Not only did the people call the ranger, the lady from the space next
door came to help with her. She somehow managed to pry the woman from 
me, then lead her to my chair. She knelt beside the woman for a second. 


"Get her some water." It was very much an order. \cf0 I went inside to
pump a glass of water for the bruised and bloody stranger. I tried to 
remember her features, but the only thing that stood out was her blonde 
hair. Even that was matted with blood. I remembered from watching her 
approach that she wasn't very tall, but not short either. She wasn't 
heavy but she also wasn't especially thin. I guess she was pretty much 
average in everything. 

Either the man was vicious or she put up one hell of a fight, either way
she was hurt and balling when I returned. The women from the space next 
to me had been joined by her husband. 

Since he didn't know the story he looked at me suspiciously. He was
measuring to see if he could beat me, should it come to that. He might 
think he could, but odds were that he would come up short. Not that I 
was big or bad, just more experienced in the ways of the street. \cf0 I 
hadn't always been a small town real estate photographer. I had once 
been a big town cop. Ten years in a sector car and I thought I had seen 
it all. No matter how many times I saw it, I never got used to the site 
of a woman bleeding, crying, and looking in a hundred directions at 
once. That poor woman would never feel safe again. 

"Ask her where it happened," the man next door suggested to his wife. 

"Why?" I asked. 

"We should go look for him," he suggested it with a sneer. He was
obviously thinking that I didn't want to go from fear. He was going to 
be the hero. Now that would ordinarily be fine with me, but I didn't 
want to see him contaminating a crime scene. Especially since rapist 
aren't likely to hang around waiting for the cops to show up. 

"I expect it would be best to leave that to the pros," I suggested to
him. 

"What the park ranger?" 

"I'm sure the ranger can handle what needs to be done better than you."
I was losing my temper. \cf0 It seemed like hours until she arrived, 
most likely was only a few minutes. Standing around, trying not to say 
too much at my own 'home' was a real pisser. Still there was no sense 
in arguing with other people who were trying to do the right thing. 

The green park pickup pulled right down my drive to the space behind my
own truck. The woman, who stepped from the cab of the dark truck, was 
most likely somewhere over forty years old. It was hard to tell since 
it was pretty dark and she wore no make up at all. She might have been 
a bit younger than I thought. She also might have been a bit trimmer if 
not in those double knit uniform pants. Her hair was unruly and the 
color of a barn. I mean it. She must have used house paint as a hair 
dye. 

She carried her hat in her hands. I had done the same now and then, back
in the old days. Hats are a pain in the ass, if you have to move around 
any at all. They also make a pretty good distraction. if you need that 
kind of thing. In your hand they can be dropped so that you know where 
to find them, if you have to run. In your hand it can also be thrown 
giving you a second's edge. It seemed our little ranger had been well 
trained, or been around the block a few times. 

Little Range was a bad choice of words. She was almost six feet tall, at
least five ten. She was close to being heavy even without the double 
knit. She was just an Amazon type. 

She went immediately to the battered woman. She knelt, in the dirt, on
one knee while she spoke to the woman. She also took notes feverishly. 

"The local sheriff's men are on the way. I'm sorry Jill this might be a
bit uncomfortable for you but we need to know some things from you." 
The ranger looked up telling us with her eyes to go leave them to talk 
alone. I knew the look and somehow so did the woman from the next 
space. The woman had to pull her husband along. 

"Let me get my coke, then why don't you take her into the trailer to
talk," I suggested. 

The ranger nodded. They were still in the trailer when the Sheriff's
care rolled by slowly. I walked to the road to flag them down as they 
came back around. I moved my chair to the edge of the light as my 
trailer became an interrogation room. Make no doubt they were 
interrogating her. She had been raped in their county and inside a 
public and state run park. It was going to be lawsuit heaven, if it 
wasn't handled just right.\cf0 

I sat far enough away so as not to hear her being questioned. I sat
there eating my cookies and drinking a coke. I resisted the urge to 
take a walk down memory lane. I knew for sure that I couldn't resist it 
for long. I managed to stay in the moment until they bundled her off to 
the hospital. I would have done that before I questioned her, but I 
wasn't on the case thank god. 

The park ranger stayed until everyone else had gone. She had no choice
her truck was blocked in my drive. Obviously so was I. 

"Why do you think she picked your site?" the ranger asked. 

"I had the outside light on. I was sitting outside and I probably looked
safe." I had been asking myself that even before she asked. Those were 
the things that popped into my mind. 

"Yeah, I suppose so. So you hear for Mumfest?" 

"Yes and the day is going to start very early for me." 

"Okay, I'll take the hint. I guess I'm still on an adrenalin rush," she
informed me. "You seem mighty calm, maybe a little too calm." 

"Would it have helped, if I had panicked?" 

"No, but the neighbor said you told him not to go to the bath house. Was
there something there you didn't want him to find." 

"Oh you think he could have found something your crack sheriff's
deputies won't find." 

"Good point, but most guys couldn't have helped themselves, the urge to
be macho, and all that." 

"Guess I'm not the macho type." 

"I don't believe that for a minute. I think you must have known better."


"Probably from watching cop shows on TV." 

"And the turning at an angle when you talk to people?" 

"Do I do that?" 

"Yes you do. It's something they show the male officers in rookie
school." 

"I had no idea, in my case it is my misspent youth." 

"Okay, I'm going to accept that since you will be gone in a couple of
days." 

"I will most definitely be gone in a couple of days. 

Everything was conspiring to start me drinking again. All the bad old
days were just ten sober minutes away. I wasn't an alcoholic, I was a 
non practicing drunk. I kept a bottle in the apartment and another in 
the trailer just for occasions like that one. I almost always resisted 
the urge to take a drink, but I didn't that night. 

From the trailer, I recovered the bottle of Jack Daniels with the green
label. I sat it on the picnic table even though the rules prohibited me 
from doing so. The big, Duke arena plastic cup, the one that had cost 
me a buck, plus the coke that came with it, sat full of ice beside it. 
Beside that sat a can of Wal-Mart cola. It was not a drink meant to get 
me any awards for class, but it was what I had. 

I sat there screaming quietly to myself as I got totally blown away. I
hadn't had a drink in 5 months so it was a cheap drunk that night. 
After a couple of drinks to take the edge off the nights events, I 
began reliving my nightmare. 

It happened on a hot night just about like the one I was suffering
though at the moment. I was working a sector car in one of the nicer 
sections of Atlanta. The call was a suspicious noise next door kind of 
thing. One of those just vague enough to be nothing at all, 99.9% of 
the time, calls. Every cop sooner or later gets that .1%, and I got 
mine that night. 

I remember that it was a Wednesday night. It was also my first night on
the midnight rotation. Rotating shifts tend to cause a blur on the 
first night of the midnight rotation. I was tired at 1 A.M. I will 
freely admit that now. I parked the sector car in front of the dark 
house, then I walked up to the front door. I listened carefully before 
I rang the bell. There was the sound of breaking glass somewhere in the 
house. Any indecision I had about breaking and entering was washed away 
by the sound of a woman's scream. It was a muffled scream but I 
immediately recognized it for what it was. I called for backup then 
tried the door. To my surprise it opened easily. When I shined my 
flashlight on it, I knew why. The lock was broken. 

When I entered the house, I tripped over a table. The burglar had
obviously moved the table in front of the door to do just what it did. 
Alert him that someone was on the way into the house. By the time I 
found the source of the sobbing, I knew I was in trouble. A greasy 
looking white man in his late twenties held a bloody young woman in 
front of him. 

"You come any closer Cop, and I cut her throat." Judging from her
battered and bloody face he appeared to be up to the task. To murder 
takes a lot of rage, anger or just plain mean. He looked to have all 
three in abundance. 

"Let her go," I said as menacingly as possible. 

"No way cop, Stand aside I'm walking out of here." 

"Ain't gonna happen kid. Let her go and you can stand trial. These days
you'll probably be out before she's finished with the plastic surgery 
for the scars." 

"If you don't move I'm gonna' cut her." 

"If you cut her, there will be no trial for you." 

I watched his eyes and knew he was going to do it. I have no idea why,
but I froze. I stood there watching as he cut her throat. I only 
snapped out of it when she fell to the floor like a pile of dirty 
laundry. The son of a bitch smiled at me. He made a move toward me. I 
shot him in the forehead before he could take even one step. I know it 
was cold blooded murder for both of us. 

Later I found out he was on drugs. PCP as a matter of fact was his
excuse. Mine was that I couldn't explain how he lived and a hostage 
died. I murdered him so there would be just one story told. I wasn't 
sure at the time why I did it, but I had an inkling. By that time I had 
passed out in front of the house. 

I awoke in the hospital and began to cry like a baby. I got admitted to
the psych ward but still couldn't stop crying. The more I tried to 
explain it away, the more I realized what I had done. I did the only 
thing I was conditioned to do, I lied. \cf0 I lied to the internal 
affairs officer, I lied to my Doctors at the hospital, and I tried to 
lie to myself. No matter how many times I told it, I felt ill each 
time. The official version was that he began to cut her and I shot him 
but was too late, he finished the cut as he died. I didn't come off as 
a hero because I didn't save the woman. I also didn't come off as the 
weak bastard that I was. I just couldn't get past the fact that I froze 
for a second and that it cost someone their life. 

Going back on the job in any capacity was out of the question. The only
thing I could do was to try for a medical retirement. Yes that was a 
lie to, but I just couldn't face the street again. I wasn't so much 
afraid that I would freeze again, but that I would kill someone who 
didn't need killing. That woman haunted me. She accused me with her 
dying eyes almost every night. 

Nothing stopped it, neither the alcohol induced comas or the
prescription sleeping pills. I could not come to grips with it. The 
medical retirement was possible only if I agreed to take half my normal 
retirement. It was based on the ten years I had in, the circumstances 
surrounding my mental breakdown, and the prognosis that I would likely 
not be fit for duty in even the chief's grand children's lifetime. I 
signed off on the half pension knowing that it wouldn't be enough to 
live, but happy that I wouldn't have to take a high pressure job again. 
It was my plan to just get lost in the sea of humanity, but to do it in 
a small cove. In other words I went looking for a place to hide out. 
\cf0 The smallish town in the middle of North Carolina suited me well. 
I was able to get by on my PD pension but just barely. If I wanted to 
eat anything more than beans and rice, I had to work. I had always been 
a hack photographer even in Atlanta. So finding the low paying hack 
jobs wasn't hard at all. It was mostly being willing to work for 
peanuts and drive all over hell doing it. The work was simple so I 
didn't mind all that much. A cell phone kept me in touch. 

How I went from real estate pictures with an advanced point and shoot
digital to retro was almost impossible to remember. From Ebay late one 
night while in a drunken stupor I bought a "How to CD." A couple of 
weeks later with the 'how to' CD in hand, I converted a Polaroid camera 
to shoot 120 film. After that one I never looked back. It got to be a 
hobby shooting the old style pictures. Then of course I wanted to show 
them off so along came the shows. I liked the attention so I began 
shooting portraits there. At first I just emailed the people their 
images. After more than one person asked for prints, I worked out a 
system. Those walk by prints made it possible for me to do more and 
more shows. It was a circle but not a vicious one. 

It had been a wonderful experience until the night of the rape. It
appeared that the nightmare would resume, hopefully not followed by the 
uncontrollable drinking. I sat at the edge of the light trying not to 
remember any of it, not even the woman who staggered into my campsite. 

"So you couldn't sleep either?" I looked up to see the woman from the
adjacent campsite walk toward me. I sat at the edge of the light to 
avoid the bugs she seemed to skirt the light as well. It didn't seem 
like bugs that she was avoiding. 

"No, I guess not. You want a drink?" I asked it while wondering if I
could make it to the trailer and back again with a second glass. 

"No but I'll have a sip of yours if you don't mind." 

"Not at all, I was wondering if I was sober enough to get you a glass.
Sharing would make my life at least a little easier." 

"Well, it seems that I live to make men's lives easier." 

"Ma'am I wouldn't touch that remark with a ten foot pole." 

"That's probably a good idea." She replied looking off into the
darkness. "You reckon that girl is okay?" 

"My guess it will be a while before she is okay." 

"Yeah, I expect that is true. She may never be okay again." 

"At least she is alive, she has that." 

"So you think they will catch the guy who did it?" 

"It depends on a lot of variables." I saw her shift her gaze to my face.
"If he knew her, they most likely will. If he as done it a number of 
times, they might well find him. If it is a one time deal, if he didn't 
leave much evidence, and isn't known to the locals, odds are they 
won't. A transient crime is a bitch to solve. In a campground like this 
odds are high that he is a transient. The cops might have a sketch by 
tomorrow, but the guy might be long gone by then." 

"You seem to know a lot about it." 

"Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, I was a cop." 

"So you aren't one now, what do you do?" 

"I'm here for the festival. I'm a photographer of sorts." 

"Of sorts?" 

"Yeah retro, I made pictures that look like there are almost a hundred
years old." \cf0 So people buy them?" She wasn't being rude just 
curious. 

"Now and then I run across an idiot." I smiled to let her know that I
wasn't offended, but that I had recognized her slight scornful tone. 

"I didn't mean it that way." 

"Of course you did, and that's fine. I am quite used to it. I even make
a portrait now and then at the shows." 

"Good for you. Well it's getting late and we both have an early day
tomorrow." 

"I do for sure, how about you are you here to visit the festival." 

"Yes, my husband and I are down for the festival then on to Myrtle Beach
for vacation." 

"Ah the joys of owning a real camper," I commented. 

"As opposed to your thermos bottle," she said it with a smile at least. 

"Yes but it isn't very efficient as a thermos. Cold in the winter and
hot in the summer, you know." 

She just nodded as she walked back to her luxury model generic camper.
It did have the picture of a bear as the logo so it must have been a 
real brand. 

I finished my drink then went to bed. I fell asleep hot and woke up
cold. Being near a body of water does that I am told. I didn't feel 
hung over until a few hours into the next day. I was just dopy during 
the set up. 

I hadn't made a nickel by noon. It didn't bother me since the crowds
hadn't been very large that first morning. I made my first sale and my 
first portrait exactly at noon. The man insisted that the much younger 
woman have her portrait made. He seemed to like the idea of a teenager 
in retro. I had a feeling that I didn't approve of the couple, but I 
went along. You won't do much business, if you only work for people you 
like on a personal level. 

After I broke the ice, I kept reasonably busy up until the dinner hour.
Festivals tend to die around five. Mumfest stayed active until eight 
p.m. It was one of the drawing cards that there was an evening crowd. I 
had a bang up first day, so I was feeling pretty good when I began to 
load the truck. The next day started late and ended early so some of 
the vendors wouldn't even open. I planned to stay till the last minute. 
I had paid a ton for the space so intended to get every penny I could 
from it. 

When I returned to the campground, I wasn't a bit surprised to find a
card from the sheriff's detective on my door. He wanted me to call no 
matter what time I got in. Since I don't own a cell phone, I drove to 
the pay phone outside the campground office. I made the call then left 
a message on the voice mail. I explained that I would be in the space 
until the following day at 8 A.M. After that, I would be at the 
festival until they closed at six, whereupon I would be headed home. I 
gave my home address and phone number to the voice mail. 

I had no idea at all when or if the cops would show. I had the last half
of the hamburger glop on a plate when the knock on my trailer stopped 
me from sitting down to it. A dinner of day old glop at ten pm didn't 
thrill me so I didn't mind putting it off. 

I found the neighbor waiting for me at the door. The woman not the man,
he was not to be seen. "Well hello, what can I do for you?" 

"I got a couple of messages for you." 

"I've already called the sheriff's office," I suggested. 

"Well that takes care of number one. This is for you. She left it with
me." 

I opened the folded paper\'85 

Sorry I don't know your name. No one seems to know it. Anyway I just
wanted to thank you for taking care of me last night. Would you call me 
before you leave town. Jill\'85. 

I handed the note to the woman standing at my door. "Do you have any
idea what this is about?" 

"I don't have a clue, but I was shocked when she showed up. I would have
thought that she would have gone home and then sent someone for her 
things. She told me she was picking up her car and camper. She had one 
of those little pop up things. 

"You mean she is gone?" the woman nodded. "Then I wonder why she wanted
me to call her." 

"The number is most likely her cell phone. It will find her." 

"Yeah but still," I just left it there and the woman standing outside
nodded. "You want to come in. I'm not drinking tonight but I can give 
you some coffee." 

"No thanks, hubby is still awake. I don't need the two hour third
degree." 

"Ah I see. Well tell him you were a perfect lady." I smiled. 

"I usually am, but not always." She said that smiled and then walked
away. 

I had no idea what it all meant, nor did I care. I was worn down from
lack of sleep, so I turned in right after the glop. I didn't call the 
rape victim since I had no idea what to say. Also because I figured she 
was still on the road home. \cf0 I hadn't planned to stay past the 
close of the show on Sunday afternoon, so I was hooking up the trailer 
when the police car pulled into the space. It wasn't a patrol car but 
nobody else drove a plain Crown Vic with black wall tires. I actually 
thought those were a thing of the past. 

"Hey, you Mike?" The more than slightly thick woman asked. 

"Some of the time," I replied. 

"Well then how about being Mike for a while. What happened here on
Friday night?" 

"What I know isn't much. A woman about thirty staggered into my
campsite. She had been pretty beat up from the looks of her. A woman 
from the site next door came over and held her hand till the ranger 
came. That's about all I know." 

"So you had never seen her before?" 

"If I saw her before, she looked a lot different than she did when she
showed up here." 

"What does that mean?" 

"It means, that if she was a camper who I had passed earlier in the day,
she wasn't beaten bloody so I didn't recognize her." I was getting a 
little sarcastic. I needed to be moving so that I could drop the 
trailer outside the park and get on to the festival. 

"So you don't have any idea who she is?" 

"None, I don't think I even heard her name. If you show her to me all
cleaned up, I doubt that I would even recognize her." That was an 
attempt to stay out of the trial phase, should there ever be one. 

"So you didn't know that she was Sal De Angelo's daughter?" 

"Not only that, I don't know who Sal De Angelo is either." 

"I think you are likely to find out." 

"Why don't you just tell me?" I was curious but I was still in a hurry. 

"What and spoil the surprise, not a chance." She looked like a little
girl though she was far removed from little girl, in any sense of the 
word. 

"Okay, I'll just have to buy a paper I guess." 

"I wouldn't expect it to take that long. If I can find you, Sal can find
you." 

"But why would he want to, I don't know anything." 

"That would depend on what the little girl told about you." 

"What the hell is all this about?" 

"Oh you'll find out I'm sure. I did some checking on you." 

"I'm sure you didn't find much." 

"What I found will interest Sal for sure." 

"I'm beginning to not like all this, and you as well." 

"Rape is nasty business, isn't it?" She said that as she walked away.
She obviously wasn't expecting an answer and she wasn't disappointed, I 
continued to hitch up the trailer for the short drive to the office 
parking lot. \cf0 An arrangement had been made by Mumfest so that the 
vendors who camped out could leave the trailer in the parking lot on 
Sunday to be picked up that evening. It saved a day's rental, and 
allowed the part to rent the space earlier. Not that they were likely 
to rent spaces on Sunday. 

I arrived at my site in time to off load the display and a bag
containing fried animal fat on a slab of carbohydrates, in other words 
instant heart attack. I drank the large black coffee from a vendor down 
the street, while I ate the breakfast on a bun. I even did a little 
business before the man arrived. He had messenger written all over him. 


"You are Mike Holiday aren't you?" I watched him carefully. Something
about him didn't sit just right. 

"I'm Holiday." I kept a close eye on him. That Sal De Angelo thing began
to creep into the back of my mind. 

"I got a message for you." 

"From De Angelo?" I asked stupidly. 

"Yeah, you been expecting me?" He showed some surprise. 

"Little bird said I might be hearing from you guys." 

"Well I got a message for you." He reached into his windbreaker pocket.
I tensed but had no idea what I would do when he pulled the pistol and 
shot me. To my relief his hand came out with a folded paper. 

"What the hell is that?" He didn't answer but forced the document on me.
Since it wasn't a grenade I took it. 

"This is some kind of summons," I said as he turned away. 

"Yeah you need to give a deposition tomorrow before you leave town.
Sorry Holiday, but it's my job." He had seen the anger in my eyes. I 
had not planned to spend another day in the small coastal town. 

I got busy immediately and didn't have time to read the summons. I read
it about an hour before I closed the display. When I did, I must have 
seemed like a complete idiot to anyone who saw me. I broke into an open 
laugh and couldn't stop. It was more a tension release than any humor. 

It seemed that Sal De Angelo was actually Sally De Angelo. Sally De
Angelo was a personal injury lawyer in town. Obviously a well know 
ambulance chaser, I thought as I burst into yet more laughter. I know 
the rape was serious business but at least I wasn't dealing with a 
mobster's daughter. \cf0 I ate dinner that evening in a small family 
restaurant by the side of the road. The restaurant was a little nicer 
than the cafes which I usually sought out. The waitress had all her 
teeth. I don't know if they were the ones God gave her, or if she 
bought them, but either was she had them all. She was probably on her 
very last waitress job, but she was efficient, and that suited me just 
fine. When the gray haired lady brought me iced tea, it was as little 
like eating in my mother's kitchen. At times I wanted to tell her to 
sit down, I could find the tea pitcher myself. 

On the way out, I realized that I had over tipped her. I didn't mind,
but I am cynical enough to thing that she probably made better tips 
than any of the young sexy waitresses. I was also cynical enough to 
think, naw she probably just gets by. I could have waited till the 
place closed just to see which of the employee cars she drove away in. 
Then again I wasn't all that interested. 

As was almost always the case on a Sunday evening, I found the park
office closed. The large sign on the door advised me just to find a 
space. It also informed me that a ranger would be by to collect the 
space rental sometime before 10 p.m. Setting the trailer was no more 
than backing it on the pad. I didn't bother with the jack stands, since 
I didn't plan to do more than sleep in it. If I had been planning to 
run in and out of it, I might have made the thing a little more stable. 
If I had been entertaining, I definitely would have. 

I made a ten cup pot of coffee and sat down to relive the weekend show.
I had sold five posters, after all was said and done, those would pay 
for the trip. Yes even with the extra $12 park space rental. 

I also made a couple of family portraits, and two very pretty young
ladies. It should prove to be a little better than a break even show. 
Not wildly successful by any means but enough that I didn't have to dip 
into my saving to cover it. I sometimes had to do that. 

I didn't like being on the road the extra night. It meant that someone
else would be shooting my real estate pictures. I hated to give those 
guys the idea that they didn't need me. I was more a convenience for 
them than a necessary part of their business. Some realtor or employee 
didn't have to leave his desk to make the shot. More and more of the 
companies who hired me were sending a low paid clerk out to make the 
shots. More and more of my shots were for the advertising and 
illustration pages the internet. Anybody could make a picture to show 
the house was indeed a house. Not everyone could show the damage or the 
good angles as well as I could. 

It took at least a little experience to know what to look for. I hadn't
really expected the business to last as long as it had. I thought with 
the rise in popularity of the digital camera, my business would end. A 
lot of it had, but much of it had not. At least not up until that 
point. A day away from the business could cost me a client but then 
again maybe not. It was all a giant crap shoot in photography at that 
moment. I hated reviewing the business, but it was a constant with me. 
I guess I was a little compulsive about trying to stay a step ahead of 
total disaster. 

I was in the process of setting up the TV when the green pickup truck
pulled onto my space. The same woman with the crazy red hair climbed 
out of the cab. "I thought you were leaving?" 

"So did I, it seems the woman who was raped has a personal injury lawyer
for a mother." 

"I knew that last night, but I don't see what that has to do with you
still being here." 

"She must be pretty well connected. She managed to get some friendly
judge to give her a court order compelling me to make a sworn statement 
tomorrow morning." 

"Yeah, that's 'The Angel' alright. She will have us tied up in court for
years." 

"Well she isn't going to have me tied up anywhere. I don't know anything
to tell her." 

"Oh before she finishes you will know all there is to know about this
place, and how we all screwed up." 

"It won't do any good. It all is irrelevant to may involvement. No, I'll
go into her office tomorrow make a statement that she can wave in my 
face at trial, then go home." 

"Well it sounds like a good plan and I wish you luck with it. So how
long are you going to stay?" 

"I'm going to sleep here tonight, then make that statement and be gone
an hour later." 

"So you say. That will be $12 or I can give you the weekly rate." 

"Will you take my visa?" 

"Sure, if I was in the office I could. On the site we only take cash."
She paused a moment then said. "Oh hell, you aren't even here." With 
those words she put her pad away. 

"Thanks, I appreciate that. Do you want a cup of coffee, its fresh, hot,
and not too strong." 

"Sure, why not." She sat in my web chair the one I use for the show,
while I sat in the heavier molded plastic chair. We drank coffee while 
she told me her life's story. I pointedly did not tell her mine. 

The ranger's name was Janet. She had once been a cop in the town where
the festival had been held. At the time she was married to a local 
businessman. According to her, he ran a gift shop into the ground. He 
managed to lose all their money, and to somehow borrow more than either 
of them had or could ever make in their lifetime. The business failed 
and he disappeared, leaving her to face the music and the debts. The 
local cops frown on members of the force filing for bankruptcy. 
Especially, if it is a woman stupid enough to allow her husband to ruin 
her. It just didn't look right, she was told off the record. 

The long and short of it was that she left. She left willingly but under
a cloud. According to her bosses there would always be a record of her 
tainted past. Not only were they glad to see her go, they were so happy 
that they arranged the park ranger job for her. 

I got a better indication of her age as we talked. Janet had to be about
forty or just a couple of hours from it. She did wear makeup that day, 
too much of it as a matter of fact. It was my guess that she was 
struggling to be marketable. Something they tell me is hard for a 40 
year old woman to manage. \cf0 I slept late on Monday morning since 
there was nothing else for me to do. I got showered and dress with 
barely enough time left to have breakfast. Breakfast was a bagel bought 
the night before and coffee made that morning by boiling coffee grounds 
in a pot on the stove. After the boiling I poured the liquid grounds 
and all into a auto store funnel, but only after first lining it with a 
paper towel. Almost all the grounds wound up on the paper towel, so it 
made a passable yet strong cut of coffee. 

After the coffee and bagel I went looking for the Lawyer's office. It
wasn't hard to find. The De Angelo and Associates sign hung over what 
had once been a retail store of some kind. It sat directly across the 
street from the courthouse square. The county had managed to maintain 
the small grassy area in front of the courthouse. It would be about 
half a city block back home. I imagined that the land in the small town 
was worth considerably less than it would have been in the larger town 
where I resided at that time. 

I checked in with the teenager at the front desk. "I'm sorry Mr. Holiday
things are a little crazy around here this morning. I'm sure you 
understand." 

"Yes, and I'm sure you understand that I am here under a court order. It
requires that I make myself available to Ms. De Angelo this morning at 
9 A.M. I have done that. It does not require me to wait until it is 
convenient for her to take my statement. So unless you can convince me 
somehow that there is a real reason for me to wait, I will be moving 
along." 

She didn't even bother to answer instead she simply picked up the phone,
pushed a button and began to speak urgently. "Mr. Holiday is here but 
refuses to wait. He said he is going to leave and Ms. De Angelo is not 
here." She paused a long moment while I presumed that she listened to 
whoever she had called. 

"Mr. Holiday someone will be with you momentarily." 

"Let me warn you that momentarily better be within three minutes." I
made a big deal of looking at my watch. 

"Wouldn't you like to take a seat?" the young woman asked. 

"No thanks, I'm not planning to stay out here that long." It was clear
to her that I was dead serious. 

It was just about two minutes later than a woman of about thirty stepped
into the waiting area. "Mr. Holiday, I'm Nell De Angelo." 

"Another daughter?" I asked it without a lot of humor in my voice. 

"No Younger sister, daddy was a lawyer. He pushed us all to law school.
That way until he retired he had lots of cheap labor." She smiled. 

"So did big sister continue the tradition?" 

"You mean is Jill a lawyer?" 

"No, I meant the cheap labor." 

"I'm not an employee. Sal and I are partners. This was our fathers firm
originally." 

"Oh I was given the impression that it was your sister's firm." 

"Sal is the one who does the litigation, and makes all the speeches, so
I'm sure that it seems that way to the people around here." 

"So are you going to take my statement, or hold my hand till your sister
arrives?" 

"Why don't we do the statement? I am sure there is a place where we can
find you later." 

"True, I'm not a gypsy. I do have a life, one which you are keeping me
from at this moment." 

"Yes, I will try to make this brief." 

"Let me make it even briefer. Turn on your tape machine and let's get to
it." We had reached the conference room by that time. She sat down at 
the head of the table and I sat on her right. Another teenager, a male, 
sat across from me with a pad. 

She began, "This is the statement of one Michael Holiday aka Doc
Holiday. Present at this statement are the following employees of the 
firm De Angelo and De Angelo, Penelope De Angelo, and Robert Fisher. 
Mr. Holiday is not represented by counsel. 

Mr. Holiday would you like to delay this statement until you have time
to secure counsel." 

"Let's see how it goes, if it gets any nastier than just you trying to
make me sound like a criminal, I most likely will. Let's start by 
cleaning up the record. The aka is not a criminal name. It is a 
nickname given me by my fellow students at the Georgia Police Academy. 
I would prefer this statement reflect the complete truth not some half 
assed lawyer version of the truth." 

"So noted," I'll give her this Nell De Angelo was cool. She never batted
an eye. 

"In your own words could you relate the events of September 6th" 

"Do you want to know about the whole day, or just as they relate to the
incident in question." 

"Whatever you feel pertinent. We can go back to clarify any
discrepancies." 

"I'm not sure I like your choice of words. However there isn't much to
tell, so there won't be any discrepancies in my version it will simply 
be what happened." 

"I set up my camper at the park that afternoon before I went to check
out the festival site. I spent about two hours looking over my space 
and doing a little shopping. I even had time for a bit of site seeing. 
Thought there isn't a heck of a lot to see here. 

After I returned to the camper I had dinner. After dinner I went outside
to enjoy the night air. It gets a little stuffy in my camper since it 
isn't air conditioned. I was drinking iced tea at the time I think. 

The first indication I had that something was amiss was in the voices. I
heard loud voices coming from my rear. I actually listened a moment 
trying to determine where they were coming from, but I was unable to do 
so. After that one failed attempt to determine what the voices meant, I 
turned up my radio. I listened to country music until the woman came 
stumbling down my drive way. I wasn't sure what was going on but since 
I didn't feel threatened I just waited for her. 

The woman who I had never seen before was injured. Mostly superficial I
decided by her actions and the look of them. She was bloody but the 
cuts didn't appear to be life threatening. 

At about the same time the couple from the campsite beside mine showed
up. I don't have a cell phone so I suggested they call the ranger." 

I anticipated what would be coming later so at that point I interjected,
"Since I didn't know if it were an accident, or something worse I 
suggested the ranger. The ranger would be a damn site closer and could 
arrive sooner. A five minute or so delay didn't appear to be a medical 
problem, but I am not a doctor either." 

Once the ranger arrived, my involvement ended. That is all I can tell
you about the event." At that point I did what all good suspects should 
do I shut up. Most people when you get them started talking can't shut 
up. I was the exception. \cf0 "Mr. Holiday I have just a few questions 
for you." She didn't even try to smile. "So, you are the one who 
decided not to seek immediate medical help for my client?" 

"I am the one who suggested that my camper neighbor call the park ranger
to get assistance for your niece, yes. I did not make a decision to not 
get her medical help. Frankly she didn't look as though she were in a 
life threatening situation. After all she had managed to walk to my 
space without assistance." 

"However as you said, you are not a doctor." 

"That is absolutely correct, I am not. Nor was the lady next to me who
called the ranger, rather than 911. She also noted your niece's 
physical condition and she had the phone." 

"But she is not the one who had the experience handling rape victims." 

My blood boiled. She obviously knew that it would. "First of all
councilor," I made it sound just as slimy as I felt that the word 
deserved. "I am not a cop. I was under no obligation to do any more 
than I did, "I was acting not in any capacity except that of concerned 
citizen. I did what I thought was best at the time. Would I do it 
differently today, I doubt it. Your niece seemed to be traumatized but 
not in any real physical danger." 

"She had just been raped, how could you think she was not in any danger
at that moment?" 

"She had allegedly been raped councilor, and she was no longer under the
control of anyone. She was in the presence of people who were trying to 
help her, not harm her." 

"A woman shows up at your campsite beaten and bloody and you doubt that
she was raped." 

"When she showed up at my site, she did not say to me, 'I have just been
raped'. She said, "Help me," and I did. Now you twist that any damn way 
you want, but it is a fact that can not be denied. No one closed their 
door, or went back to watching their TVs. We all helped her as best we 
could. None of us were doctors or even cops. We were just people on a 
camping trip." 

"In your case that may not fly Mr. Holiday, you sir did know better." 

"Well Ms De Angelo, that is up to you. You just feel free to do what you
need to do for your niece. Unless you have more substantive questions 
for me, I will be going?" Fortunately for us both she didn't try to 
stop me. 

I was mad as hell and all I wanted to do was get out of town. My first
thought was to go back to the campground and just leave. The De Angelo 
sisters were slick as hell, but I had no idea that they could make any 
hay from my statement. I had told her my involvement then pleaded 
ignorance to everything else. 

I stopped for coffee on the way to the campground. When I reached into
my pocket for the cash to pay, I found the note given my by my 
neighbor. Call Jill De Angelo before you leave, it directed me. 

The drive through didn't have a pay phone, but the service station next
door did. I left the coffee cup on the hood of my car while I phoned 
the battered De Angelo girl. While the phone rang I had a shocking 
thought. I might finally have too many women in my life. At least way 
too many De Angelo women. \cf0 "Hello," the voice said. 

"Hello, this is Mike Holiday is Jill De Angelo in?" 

"Just a moment, I'll see." What I had just been told by an employee was
that she would see if Jill wanted to talk to me. She was obviously at 
home. 

"Mr. Holiday, I'm glad you called. This is Jill." 

"You left word for me to call. This is the first chance I've had." 

"Have you talked to mother yet?" 

"I gave a statement to your aunt this morning. As a matter of fact I'm
on my way to hook up the trailer and head home." Even though I was 
still pissed at her aunt, I was trying not to take it out on Jill. As 
far as I was concerned she was the victim. The one that nobody seemed 
to remember. It looked as though everybody saw it as an opportunity to 
sue someone. It could even be me they planned to sue. That would be an 
interesting turn of event. 

"Oh, I had hoped to speak to you first." 

"I'm sorry it wouldn't have made any difference. I told what happened
and I would have told the same no matter what we had discussed." 

"No I meant to prepare you for my family. They don't seem to realize
that you helped me. They are all full of righteous indignation at the 
moment." 

"It did seem that they were packing a load for someone. I'm just not
sure who." 

"Me either, but someone will be sued there is no doubt." 

"They probably should give some thought to catching the guy who did it."


"I think they are expecting the police to do that." 

"Well I don't know what happened so I can't comment. I also don't need
to know." 

"I agree. Since I didn't catch you in time, have a good trip and don't
worry. People down here will calm down eventually." 

"I certainly hope so. Are you going to be okay?" 

"I have an appointment with a rape counselor. I should be fine after a
while." She sounded a little too upbeat for my taste but everyone copes 
with tragedy differently. I suppose she cold be faking the upbeat 
attitude. Then again she almost certainly was no virgin so maybe it 
wasn't all that big a deal to her. 

That kind of thinking would likely get me in a world of hurt with
certain women's groups and definitely with the De Angelo family. I 
wiped that from my mind. 

I found an older man in a park ranger uniform waiting for me. I figured
it was to collect for the trailer space which I had used the night 
before. I knew that getting by without paying had been too good to be 
true. 

"Howdy," I said as I stepped down from the truck. 

"Hello there, you Mike Holiday?" 

"Sure am, what can I do for you?" 

"You weren't planning to leave right now were you?" 

"As a matter of fact I still am. Any reason I shouldn't go?" 

"Well the parks superintendent is on the way down here to talk to you.
Could you hold off a while?" 

"I could but I have been talking to everyone in the world. Why don't you
talk to the folks who were beside me that night? They know everything I 
know." 

"Well they have moved on to Myrtle Beach and we can't find them." 

"Well they will be going home eventually." 

"I know but the super wants to talk to someone now. It shouldn't take
too long." \cf0 "Against my better judgement, I agreed to wait a few 
more minutes before leaving. I spent the time hooking up the trailer 
and rethinking the conversation with Jill De Angelo. She had obviously 
been trying to say more than just Mom and Auntie are pains in the ass. 
It took me a while because I kept thinking I had nothing worth the 
effort of a law suit. 

It came to me about two minutes before the park superintendent arrived.
I was the first person in their daisy chain. If I was negligent then 
everyone after me could have been as well. There was no way they could 
win such a suit. The Good Samaritan laws protected all of us from 
criminal charges. However Jill had reminded me that anyone could be 
sued. The publicity and lost time that the suits cost the defendants 
accounted for as many settlements as quilt. 

I wasn't sure what it meant or what could be done abut it, but there it
was. Sally De Angelo most likely meant to name me in a law suit just to 
get at the park. The person who committed the crime was secondary to 
her. To give the devil her due, litigation was all she probably 
understood. It was most likely the only thing she knew to do, and as 
the victims mother, she felt she had to do something. When I thought of 
it that way, it almost made sense. However who can get into the mind of 
a mother in pain, or a lawyer overcome with greed. Either or both could 
be her motive. \cf0 I was pretty deep in thought when they drove up. I 
probably would have paid no attention to the superintendent under 
normal circumstances. He was a very unimpressive kind of guy. Just your 
average height, average weight, brown hair brown eyed white male about 
fifty years old, nothing special about him at all. 

"So you're Holiday," he said it shoving his very average hand in my
face. 

"I seem to be getting my name mentioned more today than I have in
years." I shook the hand. 

"I hate to meet new people under these kinds of conditions." 

"Yeah, I know, nobody likes being threatened." 

"I meant the girl's rape, but yes the other is also true. I'm Bob Libby,
by the way." 

"Well Bob, that was a terrible thing to have happen anytime, but right
now I'm more concerned by her mother's actions. I mean this is the 
first time I ever heard of a witness being deposed by the victim's 
mother within 72 hours of the crime. It really seems odd." 

"It seems odd to me to. Frankly when the ranger told me about it, I was
surprised and a little shocked. What is the woman thinking?" 

"In order to know what she is thinking, I would have to either be her,
or know what she knows. Fortunately neither is the case." 

"True, nobody knows what is going on in her head. So what are you
planning to do about it?" 

"I'm planning to go home and go back to work. What are you planning to
do?" 

"That woman is going to have us both in and out of courtrooms for the
next ten years. It's going to get very expensive, even if she loses." 

"That is true enough, I guess. So what do you have in mind?" 

"The best defense is a good offense." 

"That's true in football at least. So, how does it apply here?" 

"I propose that you and I investigate the incident ourselves. Find out
what we can and then go to court showing the efforts we made to bring 
this all to an end. It can't help but impress a jury." 

"You know the odds are a million to one that we could do more than the
police?" 

"I don't expect us to be able to make any headway. I just propose that
we put forth a good faith effort. It will go a long way to make us more 
human to the jury. I won't appear like a fat assed bureaucrat and you 
won't look like a callous ex-cop." 

"So I don't really have to do anything?" 

"Just go through the motions for a few days, by that time the police
should have the rapist." 

"You know the cops aren't going to like me butting into their
investigation." 

"Technically at least part of the crime took place here, so we have
joint jurisdiction. \cf0 "Okay, what are you suggesting? That you hire 
me to look into this, so that you can spin it to your own advantage?" 

"Something like that, but I'm not going to hire you. I can't justify
that I would get in all kinds of trouble. The perception of misuse of 
government funds to cover my own ass, you understand. 

"So you think I will do this to cover my own ass? Frankly Bob, I don't
have anything worth protecting from a judgment." 

"I thought you might feel that way, so I'm going to leave it to you. If
you want come back down here to sit in on a lawsuit naming all of us, I 
guess I can't stop you. I would think you might have better things to 
do with your two or three months." 

"But what you are saying is that there will be a suit regardless, and
that you are just setting spin for the jury. I don't need the spin. Now 
if we can stop this, or get me off the list of defendants, then we can 
talk turkey." 

"I'm not sure that can in good faith promise that. I promise you this,
Sally De Angel is not interested in spending that much of her own time 
in court to lose. If she can't get us to settle, and if we look as 
though we are going to have the jury on our side, she will drop it. So 
the spin is to your advantage as well." 

"I don't know it sounds pretty vague to me. Besides if I don't have a
badge there is nothing I can do." 

"I thought about that, so I think we can get around it by making you an
unpaid consultant. Let one of our people do the actual work. You will 
be pulling the strings of course. Remember we need a show more than a 
real investigation. A nice high profile would be to our advantage." 

"So who is gonna' be the puppet?" 

"The only ranger we have with any previous police experience is Janet
Meyers. I'm going to assign her to look into this." He thought a second 
then went on. "She is the one who happened to be on duty the night of 
the rape, she is going to have a vested interest in finding the rapist. 
Let's keep the base reason for this investigation just between us. Let 
Janet think it is for real." 

I nodded. I didn't bother to tell him that I considered it for real.
Might as well do all I could, if I was going to get involved. The truth 
probably was that the law suit had less to do with my decision, than 
the guilt I still carried like a hundred pound pack on my back. \cf0 
"So send her over when you are ready for me to start." 

"Well, I can't pay you but I can make this mess a little easier to take.
Park the trailer in the parking lot by the office. When you do, you can 
pick up the keys to one of the cabins. We wont be needing all of them 
this week, and there is nothing planned for the weekend. I doubt that 
anyone will notice one being occupied off the books." I nodded my 
agreement. I had a feeling that I wasn't the first to occupy a cabin as 
a ghost. 

I managed to get all my things into the large one room cabin before the
middle-aged and far less than gorgeous Janet arrived. I saw her clunk 
her way along the walk and thought, if this was a movie or book she 
would be young and beautiful. I also thought that if I were ever to 
write and account of it, she would be much younger and much blonder. 

"I'm really glad to have you along on this Mr. Holiday. I don't really
know where to begin." 

I almost told her that I wasn't along with her she was along with me,
but I thought better of it since she had the badge. "Well I'll tell you 
what, rather than nice each other to death why don't we just do what I 
always did. You just tell me if I get out of line." I watched to see 
what her reaction would be. It was as I expected, she was confused but 
not angry. 

"Okay, so what should we do first?" 

"Well we can either talk to Jill or get a copy of her police statements.
I vote for copies since her mom has her sights set for me. I don't 
think we need to confront anyone just yet. Does that sound right to 
you?" I asked it trying to stay in the puppy dogs follower role. 

"It sounds just fine to me. How do we get it?" 

"First you make a nice request of the police chief or the detective
whoever will talk to you. Then when they refuse, you have your boss 
ask. If they still refuse keep going up your chain of command." I 
didn't figure there was any sense in getting the superintendent 
involved at that point. Save the juice till we needed it was my plan. 

It turned out that nobody wanted to be accused of non cooperation or
turf battling with Sal De Angelo watching. The report got faxed to the 
park office within twenty minutes. I sent Janet for it. I didn't 
exactly send her. I suggested that I couldn't get it since I had no 
official standing. 

The report was the first time I had heard Jill's version. I got bits and
pieces while she told it to Janet and then the deputy sheriff. So I was 
curious to read what Jill said to the deputies. 

"You read this first," I suggested. "Look for anything that is different
from what she told you. Anything that is contradictory or embellished 
too much." While Janet did that, I fixed myself a coke. \cf0 While she 
read, I drank my coke and watched Janet. She wasn't beautiful by any 
means, but she did have a nice look for a woman lugging around twenty 
five extra pounds. The extra weight was spread evenly enough that she 
looked soft not chunky. Even sitting while reading, I could tell she 
wasn't especially graceful, which was just fine. I wasn't exactly a 
ballroom dancer myself. 

With my white hair I most likely looked as old as Janet. We might be
able to pass as a couple, at least to anyone who didn't know her. I 
didn't want to arouse too much suspicion with the town's other 
residents. In other words I had no desire to be the visiting pro. 

Janet had unfortunately worn her uniform. It would have been a good
choice, if I had been forced to go to the police station for the 
report. As things turned out it was likely to be an inconvenience. 

When she finally looked up I began. "Bring the report and let's go to an
office supply house." She drove since the antique ambulance would be 
hard to maneuver through the parking lots of an Office Depot. At the 
Office Depot I bought three of those yellow legal pads and a couple of 
thick markers. Our next stop was a restaurant for coffee. It was late 
enough in the day that we missed the lunch crowd. Other than our 
waitress, none of the staff seemed to notice us at all. I found that to 
be a good sign. 

I handed Janet one of the pads and a marker. "Make a list of what we
know. You write while I try to figure it out." 

"Jill was raped?" she suggested. 

"Do we know that?" I asked it since I hadn't seen the police report. 

"Good point the incident report states that she claims that she had
forced sex with a man she didn't recognize. I guess we only have her 
word for that. I can't imagine why she would lie." 

"I can't either but it happens. On your list we want only what we know
for sure. For instance Jill is a single white female." Janet wrote it. 
"Do you know her age?" 

"Twenty two according to the police report." 

"Does she have a boyfriend?" 

"No, she is unattached." 

"Does she live alone?" 

"Yes, she has a downtown apartment. She lives above a gift shop." 

"Surely the daughter of a successful lawyer could do better?" I asked. 

"You don't know the downtown apartments. Those things are yuppieville.
You know the type, big windows overlooking Main Street, the whole 
yuppie thing. It's like living in the middle of a crowd. Those places 
are very desirable and of course expensive. 

"Okay so she isn't living in a downtown place like mine." 

"You live in one of those?" Janet looked interested something she had
done often since we first met. 

"Yes I rent a run down building with a crummy old apartment over it." 

"Well in this town that would be a showplace by the end of the month.
There is big money in tourists here. We are one of those quaint little 
historic places. Lots of Yankee's move here for the weather and they 
have lots of friends who visit." 

I nodded then said, "Back to Jill. So she lives alone in a nice
neighborhood. So where and why did she get singled out?" 

"She's reasonably attractive," Janet suggested. 

"I couldn't tell she was a mess when I saw her." 

"I've seen her before, everyone has I expect. She's attractive enough
alright, not especially gorgeous but well taken care of." She saw the 
curious look I gave her. "You know good hair, good skin, teeth that had 
braces and caps, that kind of taken care of." 

"So where was our yuppie princess when she got herself grabbed up?" 

"According to her statement, she was in the parking lot behind her
apartment building." 

"Coming or going?" 

"Why is that important?" 

"I don't have any idea that it is, but you never know." 

"She says she was on her way to her mom's house for Friday night
dinner." 

"So what time did she get netted?" 

"Nine, according to this," Janet said. 

"What time did you get the call from my place?" 

"Shortly after ten," She said. I saw the light go on in her head. "That
isn't much time is it?" 

"No, it could work but it doesn't seem just right. I'm sure the cops
know it to." 

"So she gets abducted at nine, raped and beaten, then driven to the park
where she escapes, all in just over an hour." Janet looked as skeptical 
as the rest of us likely were. 

"Write this on a new page. Have the cops placed her in her apartment for
sure just before nine? Did she get the time wrong or did it all happen 
that quickly. Why the park release? What is Jill's social life like?" 

"Did she know the guy or give the cops a description of him?" 

"She said that he must have been a tourist in town for the festival."
Janet again looked skeptical. "Doesn't seem like the kind of thing that 
a serial rapist would do. 

"Actually there is some logic to it. There would be lots of strangers
around, and each festival is in a different jurisdiction. We can't 
disregard the possibility. It is very logical. Write on our list of 
things we need to know. Have there been other festival rapes?" 

I gave it a little thought then asked, "Do you know any cops who will
tell you if they have had the NCIC data base check results." 

Janet smiled sweetly, then removed her cell phone from its tiny holster.
She made a call while I got the waitress's attention in order to motion 
for more coffee. 

"No other similar rapes in the south. There might have been one or two
several years apart and in different parts of the country." 

"It's still a possibility and something that is going to hard to nail
down." I suggested. "Back to what we know, somebody beat hell out of 
her for some reason. If she was resisting the rape, then it fits except 
he beat her more than just into submission. The beating was either part 
of the whole fantasy thing or she was beaten for a different reason." 

I gave it some more thought, then said, "We need the results of her
medical exam from that night." 

Janet at least was a quick study. She had the cell phone out almost
before I finished the sentence. Whoever she called agreed to make her a 
copy but insisted that she pick it up personally. Someone had reamed 
their ass for faxing the police report. Yes they faxed reports all the 
time, but not that particular report. That, in and of itself, was 
interesting. Of course faxing any report might have been a bad idea but 
still it hadn't gone to a newspaper. It went to a more or less law 
enforcement agency. Those people are supposed to share information all 
the time, at least that's what they claimed to do. \cf0 I convinced 
Janet to stop by home and change her clothes. I had a feeling a park 
ranger suit wouldn't impress any really bad guys we met. No sense 
drawing unwanted attention to ourselves. I wanted that medical report 
before we started going over the details in Jill's statement. If there 
were any inconsistencies, I wanted them to be reconciled in my mental 
picture of the event. 

I was sitting in Janet's small but tastefully decorated living room when
I heard her call to me from what was presumably her bedroom. "Should I 
carry the weapon?" It was an excellent question. 

"Not unless you can find a comfortable place to put it on your body." A
pistol in a handbag is pretty useless. Not to mention something you 
have to constantly lug around with you. Most people these days don't 
carry a purse while hanging out. It was better to back off and call a 
real cop anyway. 

When Janet returned her choice of clothing revealed even more about her.
She chose not hide her twenty or so spare pounds but to flaunt it. She 
looked attractive in a kind of desperate way. I mean she wore a blouse 
of some silk like material. It was soft and molded itself to her almost 
ample breasts. The thing that all slightly heavy women seem to have in 
common is great cleavage. Janet had that as well. It was a surprise to 
me, since I had only seen her in the stiff uniform shirt. Her thick 
waist and slightly thicker hips didn't seem as out of place with the 
blouse unbuttoned almost too far. 

She noticed me studying her body then asked with a out of place smile,
"So do I pass inspection?" 

"You look just fine, and I see you decided to pass on the weapon." 

"Well this outfit is a little tight to hide a 10mm Glock." 

"Or even a letter opener," I said in agreement. 

The Sheriff's office was in the basement of the county courthouse. The
entrance was from the rear parking lot. Janet parked the state car, 
which she had been assigned for duration of the investigation, near the 
door. The sign in front of the car said, official business only. 

I looked at her. She smiled. I knew that parking there was somehow a
satisfying experience for her. Since having been exiled to the status 
of park ranger, it must have felt nice to be back with the big boys for 
a while at least. Yeah, I might have felt a little of that myself. 

One of the chief deputies handed over several pieces of paper to Janet.
"Here is all the paper we have accumulated on this case so far. The 
Sheriff is under a lot of pressure to cooperate. 'This is not going to 
be a fucking turf war.' That's what I heard him shout into the phone. I 
can only guess who he was talking to." 

Personally I didn't need to guess. If it wasn't Sal, it was that bitch
sister of hers. I shook the cops hand but hardly even said thank you. I 
grunted and nodded a few times. For some reason I didn't understand 
myself, I had decided not to make an impression. I was trying hard to 
be the invisible man. I wouldn't have gone into the court house except, 
I wanted to get a feel for the amount of cooperation I could expect. 

Janet drove to the park by the sound. She stopped in almost the same
spot where I had set up my display only a couple of days before. I let 
her read the documents in the manila folder. I asked a few questions 
after she finished each one of them. 

"Do any of them mention Jill's past history?" I asked it as an after
thought. 

"Not a word," she replied sorting through them again. 

"Cops don't like to put that kind of thing on paper. I'm sure especially
not this time. You don't want to get into negatives on the victim that 
the defense can use." 

"So what do we do reinvestigate her past. I don't feel comfortable with
that." 

"You aren't supposed to. Find out who the cops talked to. There should
be a source for each legitimate comment there. Each of those people 
would have told the cops a lot more than they wrote down. Just find the 
sources who talked about Jill's background. 

"The closest thing I can find here is an interview with her neighbor
Brad James. It says Brad confirmed that he heard Jill leave her 
apartment around nine that evening. Funny that's pretty much all he 
said about her." 

"Not bloody likely, that's all they wrote down. It was the one fact they
were trying to nail down. Anything else Brad said got filed in the 
detectives mind for future use." 

"So I guess we need to talk to Brad." 

"It's five thirty, let's try Brad, if he isn't home we can go back after
dinner." \cf0 I gave Janet a good long set of instructions but was 
ready to jump in if she screwed it up. She knocked on the door. When it 
opened, I was glad to see that she was taking the lead. The man who 
opened the door was about fifty. He had a very, very clean look about 
him. He obviously was wearing make up as well. I smiled but hid it deep 
inside. 

"Are you Brad James?" she asked. 

Since I wasn't dressed more like a beach bum than a cop he asked, "Who
are you?" 

Jane flashed her badge as she gave him the explanation we had rehearsed.
"My name is Ranger Meyers this is my partner Mike Holiday. If you have 
a moment, we need to ask you a few questions." 

"I have already talked to the Sheriff's deputies and that horrid De
Angelo woman." 

"Which De Angelo woman was that?" I asked that only after Janet didn't. 

"Jill's Aunt, I have never met her mother. They say the mother is worse
then the aunt, as if that were possible." 

"I know what you mean, I had the pleasure myself." I shut up and hoped
Janet could get back in the flow of it all. 

"So Brad, you told the police you heard Jill leave the house around
nine." 

"Yes it was exactly nine, I know because I was watching an decorating
show on HGTV. It ended at nine." 

"Was that the first time she left that evening?" Janet was back on
script. 

"No she came and went several times Friday night. It was her usual
thing. In and out till all hours." 

"Could it have been someone coming to see her?" I slipped that in
because I hadn't thought of it earlier. 

"I guess it could have been, but usually I see her in the parking lot
after I hear the door." He thought a moment then continued. "I don't 
always look out, I'm not that kind of neighbor." 

"So did you look out on the earlier comings and goings?" 

"Actually I was involved in the TV. I love decorating shows. HG was
running a marathon of those dreadful trading places things." 

"Do you have any idea how many times she came and went?" 

"At least two maybe more," he replied. 

"Brad can you hear noises from her apartment?" I asked that after Janet
had wound down. 

"Lord no these walls are twelve inches of brick, mine are also insulated
and dry walled over. I couldn't hear a scream coming from over there 
nor she from me." He smiled as if there had been a scream or two from 
his side at least. 

"Have you ever met any of her friends?" I asked it since Janet didn't
seem to want to ask.'' 

"A few," he replied cautiously. 

"Any that you think are capable of harming her?" 

"Well, there was a painter she saw for a while." 

"What kind of painter?" 

"A house painter of some kind I'm not quite sure. The only reason I met
him was because he and I had a rather heated discussion about him 
parking in my space. I had his van towed before I knew who he was. He 
came knocking on my door. He was very upset about the towing of his 
beatup old van. He told me that he would park any damn place he wanted. 
If I ever had his van towed again he and I would have more than words. 
Frankly, I would have called the police but I never saw him again." I 
had a pretty good idea that Brad wouldn't want to tangle with someone 
who would give Janet that kind of beating. 

"Do you remember who towed the van?" 

"Sure J&R towing. It's on the sign in the parking lot. They are
contracted to do all the towing. All I have to do is call them." 

We were standing in the parking lot looking up at Janet's apartment when
I asked. "Is there any chance that you could find a cop with the balls 
to get a search warrant for her place." 

"No chance in hell, what are you thinking?" 

"Brad hears what he thinks is her coming and going a couple of times. He
can only hear her outside door opening and closing. He didn't look out, 
it could have been someone else coming and going." 

"Spell it out for me Holiday?" Janet said looking a little angry. Women
and rape tend to have a strong emotional tie that is hard to break. 
They rightly feel that men have trivialized it over the years. 

"Someone could have come in did the damage, then left. When the nine
o'clock intermission came, Janet could have been taken out. She could 
have been forced into a car and driven to the campsite, with a little 
stop along the way." 

"You mean you think she knew who did it? Did you see the same woman I
saw? There is no way a woman that badly beaten would protect the guy 
who did it." 

"Okay, but you keep an open mind," I said that a bit more curtly than I
should have. \cf0 "Crime scene crew," I said it more to myself than to 
Janet. She did overhear me though. 

"What?" 

"The crime scene unit has to have been in there, or is planning to go in
there to collect samples. That is unless they have been blocked. We 
need to know which?" 

"Why would they need to go in there?" She paused just a moment then
realized she already knew the answer. "Yeah elimination samples, if she 
was taken somewhere else there should be trace evidence." 

"Yes, hair fiber all those goodies won't be much good at trial unless
they do an elimination match from her apartment." 

"So the crime scene crew either has or can eliminate that as the crime
scene." 

"So do you know anyone in the lab?" 

Janet did indeed know a young woman in the lab. Since the lab hadn't
collected the samples at the time, I had Janet put a bug in the SI's 
ear. "While she was there, she should check for occult blood," It was 
my suggestion to Janet who passed it on. 

Janet made the call while we were waiting to be seated at the
restaurant. The place was far nicer than I would have chosen but since 
she (the park ranger budget) was footing the bill, I didn't complain. 

"So what do you think," she asked over iced tea. 

"I think, I don't know nearly enough to know anything at all. Since you
are determined to work through dinner, tell me, where did Jill say she 
was taken?" 

"The rape occurred at the campground. She said he blindfolded her so she
couldn't see where she was. She knew it was a camper because it was so 
small." 

"My guess is also by the fact that when she escaped, she found herself
in a campground." Okay, it did come out a little sarcastic. 

"Look Mike, I know her mother and sister are bitches, but that doesn't
mean her story isn't real. Remember she took a hell of a beating." 

"Oh the beating was real; the circumstances are still up in the air. At
least until I see something that makes it real in my mind. There is no 
other explanation at the moment so I am working on it being real, but 
staying skeptical as well." I paused while the waitress delivered the 
food. "A couple of things we know for sure. She took one hell of a 
beating from someone for some reason. Of that there is no doubt." 

"If it wasn't rape like she said, then what was it?" 

"I don't know we need to find out more about little Miss Jill." I
noticed her curious look. "I would like to know, when was there last a 
Jack in her life, and who he was. I wonder when she saw the bully 
painter last?" 

"Why don't we just go ask her Holiday?" 

"Oh we will I'm sure. I would like for it to be a one time visit, so
let's get all out ducks in a row first. Let's start by finding out the 
house painter's name." 

"Ah, that's why you got the tow company's name." 

"Yes, they will know who picked up that truck. I would bet you a hundred
bucks that he made an impression on the office manager." 

"No bet, if he threatened the neighbor, he was most likely a memorable
customer." 

"Well the tow office will be closed now. I guess it will have to wait
until tomorrow." Janet asked it but I could tell she hoped I could make 
it work right that moment. I couldn't of course. 

"You know it's too late for that but we can go to Jill's parking lot. We
might get a sense of what the place is like around the same time she 
got abducted." Janet seemed happy that we weren't quitting for the 
night. I planned to get as much done as possible in as short a time. 
When the park Super pulled the plug, I wanted to know that I had done 
as much as possible. 

"That's her building," Janet said pointing out the obvious. There was a
night light on somewhere inside Jill's apartment. There was a small 
light at the rear door. It looked like the kind of light one would find 
on the porch of a fancy house. Black and iron, it was more for 
decoration than light. 

I stood in the parking lot for a moment listening. I heard a faint crowd
noise that came and went. "What's that noise? I only catch it now and 
then." 

"What does it sound like?" 

"Music and crowd noise I think." 

"Captain Tom's is right over there. You might hear the noise when
someone opens the rear door. It's a typical small town beer joint. It 
isn't even a good bar, just a place where long hairs hang out." 

"Long hairs, as in kids?" I asked. 

"As in kids and rednecks," Janet replied. 

I said no more but filed it away. I walked back to her car, but stopped
when I noticed that we were only one city block from the river front 
park. Everything seemed to be happening within sight of the park. I 
walked past the car and then down to the park. I stood at the edge of 
the cement retaining wall and listened to the water lap against it. 
Janet had of course followed me. She stood quietly while I did my 
thinking. 

"What's going on in your head Holiday?" 

"Just a lot of disconnected facts rolling around, and not even enough of
them yet." 

'Holiday, you look like a man who knows more than he's telling." 

"Janet, you have heard and read everything I have. I couldn't know any
more than you do." 

"Yeah, but I think it means something to you that it doesn't to me."
\cf0 "Not a chance," I replied. I turned from the water back toward the 
parking lot where the state car awaited. When we reached the waterfront 
street, which ran just outside the block deep park, I turned to the 
right. The path took me by the front of the 'Captain Tom's Clubhouse.' 

Tom's was a two story building that had not been renovated like the rest
of the waterfront area. It had that seedy look that seems to go with 
beer joints. I expect that a brand new building would look the same in 
a year. Then again I have never seen a real beer joint in a new 
building. They all seem to end up in buildings like 'Captain Tom's'. 
The brick showed the accumulated greasy dirt of a hundred years or more 
of soot. The white trim fought valiantly to look clean but lost badly. 

Since Janet could pass the sexy older woman in a bar test, I steered her
toward the building. First I walked her to the parking lot behind the 
building. In it sat a van that had begun life a midnight blue color, 
but since had been splashed with enough colors to have been a biblical 
coat. The magnetic sign on the side read Jeffery Smith Decorating 
service. 

"Wanna' bet on Jill's boyfriend's name?" 

"Not me, I never bet against the house." I was but smiling but Janet
wasn't. 

"Okay, wanna go for a beer?" 

"Sure," she replied. \cf0 The bar had two sets of glass doors on the
front. The glass on the first set was painted black. There is nothing 
worse than drinking beer all afternoon in a sunlit beer joint. The 
second doors were clear so that if the place should be filled, as it 
had been over that weekend, the person inside could see his impending 
pounding. With a little luck, and if the fire marshal had been in the 
day before, there might be room for him to move and avoid the 
collision. 

Janet explained all this to me as we entered the dark bar. I had no idea
what I was going to do inside, I just knew I was going to get a look at 
Jeffery Smith. When the waitress came, I ordered two drafts even though 
I had no intention of drinking mine. My one bottle binge, the night of 
Janet's rape, would most likely hold me a while. The waitress came with 
the beer, then on request she pointed out Jeffery Smith to me, the she 
went to inform Jeffery that I had asked about him. I hadn't told her to 
do that, but obviously she knew Jeffery better than she knew me. He 
stared at me while I stared back at him. I had no idea how much longer 
that would continue. 

"Janet, what did the medical report have to say about Jill's
fingernails?" 

"They took some scraping from them." I nodded my understanding, then I
went back to my obvious observance of Jeffery Smith. He tired of the 
game after a bit, I knew he would. I watched him walk to the bathroom, 
and somehow knew he planned to confront me on the way back to his 
table. Men, who plan ahead, don't do confrontations with a full 
bladder. Wetting yourself during a fight is considered unmanly. 

Jeffery, inspite of the wimpy name, was not inside the body of a wimp.
Also I knew him to be a bully, so I considered the greasy haired almost 
middle aged man a threat. I also considered that he was at least thirty 
pounds heavier and that they were not all beer pounds. The man actually 
did real work, where as I made pictures for a living. He could most 
likely take me in a fair fight and I doubted that it would even be fair 
at that. 

"We're going." Janet knew that a confrontation was brewing. She most
likely thought I was leaving to avoid a pending ass whipping. As we 
passed jeffery's' table, I lifted his empty beer bottle. He had been 
drinking from it for about twenty minutes. I expected that it was 
covered with his DNA. 

The state car actually had an evidence collection kit in the trunk. I
was shocked until I remember that the rangers gave out citations for 
alcohol related offenses in the park. It most likely wasn't the first 
beer bottle in the truck of the car. 

"We need to get that to the police station. Make sure the desk people
sign for it and sign the paper seal. I want to maintain the custody 
record, even though I doubt it will ever be used." 

"So you don't really think Jeffery did the beating." 

"Your guess is as good as mine. About all that will do is maybe get the
dicks a search warrant. In the mean time we need to keep an open mind. 
She was raped on a Friday night get a copy of the list of people who 
checked out of the park on Saturday morning. Men or Women, I don't care 
which. First drop me at the cabin I need sleep." \cf0 It was about a 
fifteen minute drive from Captain Tom's to the campground. During that 
trip my mind raced to fill in the blanks. I wasn't sure that I knew 
what had happened, but I had a pretty good idea. The longer I rode in 
silence the more I convinced myself that I did in fact know exactly 
what had happened. 

"Janet you know what? I think I was a little off base about the beer
bottle. Why don't you just give it to me. We have it all sealed up and 
marked. If we need it, I can swear to the custody of it." 

"I don't know Holiday." She looked as though she might balk. 

"Okay then at least hold it till we know more. I don't want either of us
to look foolish." 

"Now that isn't a problem, I was thinking the same thing," she replied.
Obviously she didn't think much of an alternate theory. At that moment 
in time it suited me that she felt that way. We both nodded. 

"Aren't you going to invite me in for coffee?" Janet asked it as
demurely as a woman her age could. 

"Janet, I have my mind all wrapped up in this I wouldn't be much
company. How about we wait until this is over." 

"Of course, it's just coffee." Neither of us believed it, but it did
sound like a good parting shot at me. Obviously I had read too much 
into it. Of course I had." 

I boiled coffee on the stove while I gave Janet plenty of time to clear
the park. After about fifteen minutes I drove to the park's office. It 
was after ten but I didn't care. I dialed Jill's apartment first. As I 
expected I didn't get an answer so I tried the mother's answering 
service. 

"This is Mike Holiday, I need to speak to Jill as soon as possible I
think I have some answers for her. I don't have a cell phone but I'm in 
cabin three at the state park. I'll be there until 9 AM. Come by 
anytime before then." I hung up the phone. I drove back to the cabin 
with my mind racing to fill in the gaps. The more I thought of it the 
more the pieces fit. If the theory was right what was I going to do. 
\cf0 Jill just showed up at my door as I expected her to do. She was 
alone something I also expected. "You look a little better than the 
last time I saw you." 

"I never did say thank you for helping me." 

"No you didn't," I replied. 

"And now my mother has you named in a lawsuit. You have to know I have
nothing to do with that." 

"I'm sorry Jill, I don't buy that. You have to be a party to it or it
wouldn't happen." 

"It's mom's way of getting a full court press on. By the way those are
her words, not mine." 

"I'm sure both of those are true statements. However you could have her
drop me from the list of names." 

"Oh it has to start somewhere, that is what mom says." 

I gave it a few minutes thought. Well Jill, you are going to need to
change her mind. I look at her trying to make it as non threatening as 
possible. She was the one who turned it ugly." 

"Or what, you surely aren't going to threaten me." 

"Oh but I surely am. Like I said on the phone I know what happened
Friday night. You call off this stupid lawsuit and it will probably all 
go away. Your basic problem won't be solved but mine will. I frankly 
don't give a rats ass for truth justice and the American way. I just 
don't want to come down here to sit in court for a couple of weeks." 

"What do you mean you know what happened?" 

"Look Smith came to your place. Invited or uninvited, I don't know or
care which. Whether you got beat up having rough sex or the bully in 
him came out, I don't know or care. What I do know is that he left you 
alone in that apartment. 

Most likely you had promised your mom you would stop seeing him, so you
couldn't tell her how you really got beat up." 

"He said he would kill me if I called the police or told anyone." 

"You believed him?" 

"You saw me," was her only answer. 

"Yes I did. Anyway after Smith left you had to come up with a reasonable
explanation of how you got beat. The town was full of strangers so you 
figured the campground would work well enough. What I don't know is who 
drove you out there and why you chose me of all people to come to for 
help. 

"That's easy enough your light was on. I didn't much want to stumble
around in the dark." 

"So who drove you out to the campground." 

"One of Jeffery's painters came to finish what Jeff started. When he saw
me he took pity on me and didn't. I convinced him that if he didn't 
help me I was going to have to tell the truth." 

"Well you are going to have to now for sure." 

"You know you can't prove any of this." She said it without a lot of
confidence. 

"Actually I can, I have Jeffery's DNA. It isn't going to me hard for the
cops to figure out the rest of it. So kiddo, you need to go home tell 
mom the truth, then drop this silly lawsuit." 

"I can do that but he will still kill me. That Jill, falls under your
problem. As long as I have his DNA and know the truth, it is going to 
happen. Either you tell it, or I do. I'm going to give you till 
tomorrow morning at ten to work this out." 

She was crying when she left. I figured there were a few of
possibilities. All but one or two of them weren't going to be good for 
me. Still I had to give her a chance, it was the least I could do. It 
could all be just like I told her, or not. I expected I would be 
finding very soon. \cf0 I couldn't decide whether I should retrieve 
Lucille or not. Lucille is a nasty little 12 gauge that had been cut 
down to a hand gun. It has a kick like a mule when I fire it, but I 
would expect it kicks worse when the one ounce lead slug hits someone. 
To my knowledge it has never been used for that purpose. I took it off 
a banger in Atlanta one dark night. 

"I swear officer. I never saw that before. It must have been in the car
when I bought it." 

"Strange that you didn't see it mentioned in the sticker price. Sawed
off shotguns are a hot option in a new Caddy." 

"Come on officer, that ain't mine." I sniffed it. I didn't smell
anything so I just impounded it. Lots of throw away pieces get found 
like that. I never had to use one, so it was still in my possession. I 
gave it a lot of thought, then decided not to. I did get a very heavy 
pry bar from the tool box of the ambulance. If Jeffery came calling, I 
expected him to be a drunk who just wanted to clean my clock and pick 
up his beer bottle. 

I didn't think I had much to worry about even from a mean drunk. Of
course you just never know. Mostly I thought how hard it would be to 
explain the sawed off shotgun, if I had to use it. I think I would 
rather hold an ass whippin than to do time on a federal gun beef. 

The odds that Jill would talk to Jeffy poo were about fifty fifty I
figured. She would for sure, if it had been just a game that got out of 
hand. She might, if he just scared hell out of her. She also might if 
she and her mom planned to retire on the state's money. They sure as 
hell weren't going to retire on mine. When I finished with all the 
reasoning, it looked better than fifty, fifty. 

There was of course a couple of other possibilities. She might just want
to see me get my clock cleaned, or she might want to see me clean his. 
Then again she might not really care who did what to who. It the last 
case she most likely wouldn't bother to tell anyone anything. 

I fell asleep in the big chair by the window. By the time I woke up it
was almost too late. The door was banging against the wall. Jeffery and 
his friend were standing in my door. Jeffery had a bat. His friend just 
looked scared. 

Jeffery pulled that bat back like he was going to hit a baseball.
Someone should have told him about telegraphing his move. They should 
also have told him about an Oriental man name General Japp. Japp 
defeated the French in Indo China despite not having any artillery or 
air support. He did it by taking the fight right up in the face of the 
Frenchies. It was a trick that the Viet Cong learned as well. It was 
also a classic tactic taught in special warfare schools all over the 
world. 

The reason I mention it is that I rushed the stupid prick jabbing at him
with the wrecking bar. I got him in the solar plexus. Air gushed out 
and he just slid down the wall and sat down. I turned to the friend as 
quickly as I could. He took one look at his hero on the floor and 
headed out the door. 

I let Jeffery try to get up before I crushed his skull like an egg. Yes
one blow delivered with all my strength to the side of his skull and he 
was finished. I hadn't been a cop for all those years for nothing. I 
knew exactly how the scene would play to the cops and the DA. I would 
be lucky not to get some kind of medal. Jill could do her I was 
terrified routine and I could get out from under the bullshit lawsuit. 

All I had to do was to murder one mean prick to get clear. It seemed
like a fair trade to me. 

I did my interviews with the police using all the right lines. When I
finished they were buying me coffee. I was told to hang around a couple 
of days. I agreed. By 9a.m. I was back at the cabin and in by eleven I 
was awake again. Someone was knocking on my door. I opened it to find 
my ranger buddy standing on the porch. 

"Come on in," I suggested. 

"You know things bother me when they work out too easily," she stated
flatly. 

"Easy for you, that son of a bitch tried to cave my skull in." 

"Yes they found his little buddy. He told it just like you did." 

"So, alls well that ends well." I was keeping my cool. Nobody rattles
me, I thought. \cf0 With at least 24 hours to kill before the inquest 
and putting the Jeffery Smith incident to rest forever, I took one of 
my retro cameras to the park. I sat on a park bench to shoot pictures 
of the giant bridge running across the sound. It was peaceful so I 
tried to make peace with what I had done to Jeffery. 

It would have been nice to think that I did it to save Jill De Angelo
but that would have been crap. When you are trying to put a cold 
blooded murder to rest, it is not time for bullshit. I might have 
thought I did it because I was still disturbed by the woman in Atlanta, 
but I didn't see it that way. I might have tried to convince myself 
that I had probably saved someone's life. That helped a little. I still 
hadn't made peace with it when the state car pulled up. 

"I got a message for you from the Super. He said, "Tell Mike that it was
extreme, but it worked out." 

"That makes me feel a hell of a lot better." 

"Hey the DNA proves he was the rapist and DNA don't lie." 

"Oh he did it okay. I don't guess we will ever know why, but yeah he did
it." 

"So come on let's go to the cabin and take a nap?" I looked hard at her
before I said. I never screw a partner, not literally or figuratively." 
I looked at the sound while she picked herself up from the bench and 
walked away. I heard the car start behind me, then drive away. 

Later that morning I got a visit from Jill De Angelo. "I had to tell the
truth of course. Jeffery's buddy laid it all out for the DA. Momma got 
them to not press charges. There isn't going to be a lawsuit since 
there was nobody to blame at the campground." 

"Yeah if you could stage all that, you weren't in any danger. It that
was the judgement I made then, and it was the right call. It's a 
classic no harm no foul kind of thing I would say." 

"I'd like to make it up to you." she said that while sitting on the
cabins sofa bed. She looked up hopefully. At least I would like to 
think that. 

"Thanks but no thanks," I replied. I kept seeing Jeffery with blood all
over his skull. 

"You are saying no to me, what are you gay?" She seemed hurt and was
striking out with what women seem to always use. 

"As a matter of fact I am." 

The end.


Tweet