Connection Terminated

by Edward Hancock II

  NikkoWantsU: Hey Aly! Still pretty as ever right?

  ReelGENT2U: Aly, my love!

  -- WELCOME KerrginEx4 to MyBook Chat Land --

  KerrginEx4: Hi, Chat Land! Any ladies out there want to chat with M/23/Reno?

  NikkoWantsU: No, Kerrg… we’re all guys in here.

  User94836: KerrginEx4…F/21/Lake Tahoe… want to chat? IM me!

  User40091: Hi, JustMeAly

  JustMeAly: Hey Greg,! Hey Nik! Hey Gent! Been hangin’ with the BF!

  PhanTOM14: Hey JustMeAly. Want to chat? IM Me?

  GorGonGreg: BF!? Aly! You said we’d get married! LOL j/k! Who’s the lucky stiff?

  ReelGENT2U: Yeah, who beat me to your heart, Aly?

  JustMeAly: LOL! U Guys! Careful! Josh is FBI.

  User43310: I’m FBI too.

  JustMeAly: That’s great, User… where U from?

  User43310: Miami. Lots of female bodies to investigate down here.

  JustMeAly: *groan*

  NikkoWantsU: Awful late for you to be up, ain’t it, kiddo? Where’s this grand BF of yours? Not there to snuggle with you?

  JustMeAly: Well, I live with my cousin. I help her take care of her kiddos. Josh is staying with his uncle until he can find a place.

  GorGonGreg: So you two haven’t…?

  NikkoWantsU: Greg! Dang Bro! That’s Aly!

  GorGonGreg: Hey, Nik! I just gotta make sure it’s okay to put my shotgun away! LOL!

  NikkoWantsU: LOL! ^5 to that one, bro!

  --Instant Message from PhanTOM14—

  PhanTOM14: Want to chat?

  JustMeAly: No, thanks.

  -- WELCOME User34579 to MyBook Chat Land --

  JustMeAly: He’s sweet. Really. And no, Greg, we haven’t. We’re not gonna.

  JustMeAly: You’ll be happy to hear he’s a gentleman.

  ReelGENT2U: Hey! There’s only ONE Gent in your life, Aly!

  NikkoWantsU: Baby Girl, they’re all sweet in the beginning. If he hurts you, you tell him Uncle Nik knows people who know people who…

  NikkoWantsU: know where Jimmy Hoffa is buried.

  GorGonGreg: Shh! Dude! You’re not supposed to tell! I’ll have cops all up in my back yard by sundown!

  JustMeAly: LOL! Y’all make me laugh. Say, have u heard about the murders out here?

  ReelGENT2U: Heard the sirens a couple nights ago. Not joking, Aly! It was a block from my house!

  NikkoWantsU: Who got whacked?

  GorGonGreg: Wasn’t me, Aly! I swear I was here in Michigan the whole time, Babe!

  ---- WELCOME WeNdYzAgUrL to MyBook Chat Land –

  JustMeAly: Wendy! ‘bout time one of the girls got in here! I was feeling kinda wrong being the only gal in here

  GorGonGreg: LOL Aly! You know you love us!

  WeNdYzAgUrL: Aly! Baby! Honey! Dumplin’! How are you!? LOL!

  ReelGENT2U: Wendy! The love of my life! How are you!?

  WeNdYzAgUrL: RockMEGently! How are you, sweets?

  JustMeAly: Gent! I thought I was the love of your life! I’m hurt! (j/k)

  ReelGENT2U: Movin’ on, babes. You got a man. Wendy’s still single.

  User43310: Yeah, I heard about the murders. Know who did it too!

  WeNdYzAgUrL: Single doesn’t mean available, Genty. You’re a bit far from PA.

  JustMeAly: Hate to cut this short, gang, but my honey just called. Gonna go spend time with my man. Well, on the phone. ;)

  WeNdYzAgUrL: Yeah, returning the favor now? Leaving me alone with all these fine men?

  JustMeAly: Your turn to try and keep these heathens under control, babe.

  GorGonGreg: Aly, hon? I have two ex-wives that gave up on controlling this heathen.

  NikkoWantsU: Say hello to the man, Aly. And tell him if he treats you wrong, I’m gonna send my band of Ninja Oompa Loompas to take him out.

  -- JustMeAly has left MyBook Chat Land --

  Chapter 4

  Wednesday, October 12

  8:37 a.m.

  Even Alex’s office chair was getting on his nerves. Every move, every twitch. It seemed every batting eyelash caused the chair to squeak, squawk and squeal with the echoed harmonics of a full symphony. Every footstep in the hallway was like the ticking track of the metronome, keeping time of the agonizing day as he waited for the inevitable visit from Chief Steelman telling him he was completely off the case.

  Sure, he had plenty of work to do. With Danny sidelined, Alex had been saddled with his responsibilities as well as his own caseload. There was no shortage of paperwork, briefing and interviews that needed to be conducted. In truth, that was part of the pressure as well. But, Alex was Superman.

  Right?

  He sighed as the very thought occurred to him. No he was, at best, Clark Kent with a badge. Superman would have already gone through the stack of forms that needed his signature. Superman would have already rounded up every lost cat, every purse-snatcher and every cab driver that was charging five cents per mile too much to his fares. Superman would have stopped every child molester, rounded up all the wife beaters and caused every crooked politician to go straight. That’s what Superman would do. Alex Kent, mild-mannered half-wit, was having none of that. “No Sleep Alex” was stewing like a five year old, alone at his desk, staring at a pile of paperwork that wasn’t getting any smaller despite his greatest mental efforts to the contrary.

  He wasn’t sure if he was more amazed or alarmed at the speed with which he stood to his feet when his door opened.

  “You okay, Alex?”

  “Sure, Chief,” Alex let go a relaxing breath.

  Chuckling, the chief said, “I haven’t seen anyone snap to attention like that since I was a young recruit in the Corps.”

  “Little tense,” Alex sat, eliciting a squeal from his chair that rocked him to the very nerves of his teeth.

  “We’re all a little tense right now, Alex.” The chief repositioned one of the office chairs, sat and met Alex’s eyes. A knock on the door diverted their attention. Without waiting for Alex, the Chief gave entrance to the older gentleman and his younger female companion.

  “Alex, I’d like you to meet someone.”

  “Is this where you tell me I’m no longer lead on the prostitute killings?”

  Chief Steelman sat back down.

  “Talked to Danny recently?”

  “Chief, don’t. Just give it to me straight, okay?”

  Standing, the chief paced toward the door, turned after a couple of steps. “Alex, this is not where I take you off of anything okay? If you want it straight, I am ordering you to play nice with the FBI agents. I’m doing that for me and, to be honest, as a favor to Moe. He wanted to ask you himself, but he’s been feeling under the weather recently, so he asked me to just ask you to go easy on Josh. The boy has a good head on his shoulders. He’s a born leader. But he’s green. Those are Moe’s exact words. And my exact words are this; they are the federal government. They have resources we don’t. You are the experienced local authority. You have information and tools they don’t. Guide the boy and keep him from getting killed or killing an innocent in the process of catching this guy. Whoever he is, Alex, he’s got federal charges on him. He’s killed all across Texas. Rumor has it, he’s killed in Oklahoma and Louisiana too. Maybe elsewhere. If they can prove it, that makes it one massive case on our hands and, between you and me, he’s not going to spend any time in a local jail anyway. Your job is simple. Stop the guy from killing anyone else. If you catch him alive, hand him off to federal authorities and let them house him. If you don’t catch him alive…” Chief Steelman paused. Looked toward the corner behind Alex. “That plant needs water, Alex.”

  “Sir?”

  “You need it spelled out, son?”

  “No, sir.”

  Pointing to the older man, in a police uniform, Chief Steelman said, “Alex, I am not sure if you know Pastor Highland. Jim’s been a Chaplin for many departments. Just transferred here from Indiana.”

  Pointing to the lady in the dark busines
s suit, Chief Steelman continued, “This is Pastor Highland’s wife, Jocelyn. Mrs. Highland is also an ordained minister and will be here acting in a similar capacity with the female officers. They are here for whatever guidance or advice our men and women might need. Spiritually-speaking, of course.”

  Alex shook their hands

  “Pleasure to meet you both,” Alex said, offering his best absent smile.

  “Anything you need, young man,” Pastor Highland said, “Here’s my card.” His hand was as shaky as the soft, Irish-brogue lilting from his throat. A brogue that seemed diminished by a throaty gargle.

  Chief Steelman approached Alex and put a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you go home and get some rest, Alex. I’ll hold the fort down for a few hours.”

  “Oh, Sir. No, I couldn’t—“

  “Couldn’t what? Son, it wasn’t that long ago, this job was mine. I haven’t been chief so long that I forgot what it was to head a division. You go on home. Get a nap. You’re wound up tight as a spring. I need you loose and ready. You’re my quarterback on this.”

  “Put me in, Coach. I’m ready to play.”

  “If you don’t mind me saying so,” Pastor Highland said, “You look troubled, Son. Tired. The ‘weight-of-the-world-on-your-shoulders’ kind of tired.”

  Alex said nothing. Nodded.

  “First things first.” Chief Steelman motioned toward the door. “Go on. Get! Before I change my mind.”

  “Sir, I…” Alex paused, unsure what to say next.

  “If you want my professional opinion,” Pastor Highland interjected, “A little rest goes a long way to refreshing the heart, mind and soul.”

  Alex smiled, sighed. “Thanks, Chief. Pastor. Mrs. Highland. Again, my pleasure.”

  “Don’t thank me.” The chief said. “When you get back here, I expect your full attention and I expect this case to be solved. Over handcuffs or a dead body. And I’d prefer it not to be yours.”

  Alex could already feel the weight of the world getting lighter as he opened the door to head for home.

  “One more thing.” The chief said.

  Alex turned, but said nothing.

  “Kiss Lisa for me, will you? I miss that gal.”

  “Will do, Chief. You should come by for dinner sometime. We’d love to have you.”

  “First things first, Alex. Solve this case. Then dinner will be on me. You have my word.”

  Chapter 5

  Wednesday October 12

  9:19 a.m.

  It was certainly a beautiful day outside. Exiting the station, Alex closed his eyes and tilted his head toward the cloudless sky. Soaking up the sun, he resisted the urge to throw his hands outward and spin as a child might.

  Rounding the corner, Alex’s relief met intrusion. Spotting three camera crews rushing toward him, already shouting questions and calling his name, Alex darted to the left in a futile attempt to avoid their interrogative barrage. Heading toward his car, Alex suddenly found himself surrounded by the familiar faces of Amy McMahon at Channel 7, Jennifer Greyson with Channel 56 and Laura Hunter from Channel 12. Hunter was the greenest reporter, having just joined channel twelve’s team a couple weeks ago. Perhaps seeking to overcompensate for her lack of tenure, Hunter – A blonde woman barely 5’2 in heels – threw an elbow, meeting Amy McMahon’s ribs with enough force to ward of a potential retaliation. Momentarily buckling, McMahon – standing nearly eye-to-eye with Alex, in her heels – turned red-faced, but maintained composure in her urgent pursuit of a story. Greyson – the lone brunette of the group – took care to avoid the fray while still firing questions and blocking Alex’s way. He noticed she appeared to be pregnant, although she couldn’t have been too far along. Reinforcing this theory, she kept a protective hand on her stomach as she lurched forward and jockeyed for position, stumbling slightly, appearing almost to wobble in place.

  Alex raised his hands, accidentally bumping the channel 56 cameraman. He quickly apologized, eliciting a wink from the cameraman.

  “Ladies, please!” Alex shouted, his hand still raised to quiet them. “Ladies!”

  “Is it true that the victim last night was a prostitute?” asked Jennifer Greyson.

  “Can you tell us if this has any connection to the other body found a few days ago?” asked Amy McMahon.

  “Captain Mendez, what can you tell me about the victims? Are there any connections between this body and the other one?” Laura Hunter chimed in.

  “Ladies,” Alex said, his hand still raised, “I can’t tell you anything right now, but you are welcome to call our office and speak with the media relations department.

  “Come on, Captain Mendez!” Amy McMahon said, “You know those goofs will just give us the standard line.”

  “Well, Ms. McMahon, if they give you the standard line, they’ll be giving you more than I’m going to give you. Now if you please. I’d like to get to my car.”

  “Has there been another body found?” Asked Jennifer Greyson. “Where is it?”

  “It’s on Third Street. Third and Marshall. If you hurry, you can probably get video footage of them removing the body. Might even beat me there at this rate.”

  Without questioning him, the three news crews turned and rushed toward their respective vans.

  “Lord,” Alex said, looking toward the sun that was, now, partially hidden by a huge cluster of pine trees. “I really hope you’ll forgive me for that little white lie. And, if you would, keep your hand on those three crews. I’d hate to be responsible for a car wreck triggered by three news crews trying to scoop each other on a story I just made up.”

  Entering his car, he sighed, chuckled to himself.

  Taking out his cell phone, he called the chief. Steelman was confused, but he didn’t ask any questions when Alex asked him to send a car to the Burger King on the corner of Third and Marshall.

  Chapter 6

  Wednesday, October 12

  9:31 a.m.

  The Cyber Crime Unit of Texas sounded much more official than it actually was. While founded by a former police officer and Army Drill Sergeant, and often partnering with law enforcement to capture online predators, the unit itself actually had no real legal authority to conduct official investigations or to make anything other than a citizen’s arrests. They could be – and often were – contracted by the police to help in the war on cyber crimes against children.

  This, however, was a new day.

  Founding members Brady Phelps and Steve Cross had long ago moved on to other tasks more suited to their preference for the physical aspects of work. According to a plaque near the entrance, Phelps had become a private investigator and moved to New Mexico while Cross had opted for a job with a police force in New York. He’d gone in Tower Two on September 11th, just minutes before it came crashing down atop him. His body had been found less than two feet from the last survivor to be pulled from the rubble of the two towers. In the four years since, six different people had felt the need to keep their dream alive, only to move on a short time later. Jason Carlson had been the first one to stay longer than a year.

  When Jason got the call asking him to help the police monitor adult-oriented chat rooms in an effort to help them catch a criminal, his instinct was to say no. Something about the job seemed off, though even he couldn’t put his finger on what might be causing his reluctance, so it surprised even himself when he heard his own voice agree to help with the investigation. Now, in his whitewashed office that was anything but private, he sat with his three most trusted volunteers.

  “Mack, I want you to be our liaison with the police.”

  “If you don’t mind me saying so,” Alyson Warner interrupted, “I have no doubt in Mack’s leadership, but I am the cousin of the current acting captain of homicide. It might be better to have a contact he already trusts, wouldn’t it? I can get inside where Mack can’t. No offense, Macky.”

  “Alyson,” Jason said, “I thought of that. In all honesty, I think we risk a conflict of interest there. First and f
oremost, you guys are a team, so I am not going to keep you from talking to your cousin. If it helps, it helps. I just felt that it would be better if we have someone not related to him as the ‘official’ contact point. It keeps the operation professional, not personal. Fact is, he could trust you too much and reveal something to you that would, ultimately, get a guilty person off if it corrupts the investigation. Even we have to worry about how we’ll be painted in the liberal media, these days. And let’s be honest, I don’t want to run the risk of distracting him from his job by having you too close to the line of fire.”

  And besides, Jason thought to himself, if anyone had to go under cover, it’d be Mack. And as a former Army Ranger, Big Mack was more than able to handle himself in most circumstances. Captain Mendez was an unknown commodity. They’d worked with Captain Peterson and with Chief Steelman when he was captain, but never with Captain Mendez.

  “So what do we do?” Jessica Lewis asked.

  “You and Alyson are to coordinate your online patrols. Decide who takes what room and when. Since you can’t be here 24/7, I’m going to also bring in Tamara Davis and Nina Edwards. I’ll be team lead for them.”

  “So, the boys are playing chauvinist? In case you haven’t heard, Jason, It’s the 21st century now. Girls can do anything boys can do. In some cases, better.” Jessica Lewis said. She crossed her arms defiantly.

  “Then prove it, Jessica. Play by the rules. Team or no team, I’m the boss here. And it happens to be that I’m a man. If you have a problem working for a man, you are a volunteer. We will miss you, but you are certainly free to go volunteer at another facility. Maybe there are some puppies that need washing at the animal shelter.”

  “Jess,” Alyson whispered, “You’ve known Jason as long as I have. It’s not a chauvinist thing. Besides, my boyfriend works for the FBI and, from what he told me last night, my cousin will be reporting to him. Either way, us girls have the power, right?” she winked at Jess, hoping to soothe soured feelings. Gave a nod to Jason, as Jessica finally uncrossed her arms.