Cooper By The Gross (All 144 Cooper Stories In One Volume)

by Bill Bernico

  “Come on,” Dan said. “We’ll walk you out to your car.”

  Sean finished turning out the lights and the three of us left by the front door. Sean’s car was parked two spaces away. He turned to lock the front door but in his haste, dropped his ring of keys. He immediately bent down to grab them when something shattered the part of the door where his head had been a second earlier. I crouched and grabbed Sean by the collar, pulling him behind his car. Dan followed close behind.

  Dan and I both had our .38s out as we squatted behind Sean’s car. “Came from across the street,” Dan said. “Can you see anything?”

  I raised my head slightly, looking through the back window of Sean’s car. I saw a brief glint of light from the roof of the Shell station and then saw movement. “He’s on the roof of the Shell station across the street,” I said.

  “Cover me, Matt,” Dan said, making a dash for another car closer to the Shell station. He squatted behind it and motioned me over.

  I told Sean to stay put and ran for cover next to Dan. We sneaked peeks at the gas station. We both zigzagged our way over to the station. Dan ran around the left side and I covered the right. We met behind the building just as a long ladder crashed to the ground. We both eased our way over to the ladder, our guns pointing the way.

  Lying there with a look of disbelief on his face was Byron Sweeney, the barrel of his 30-06 protruding out of his back. He’d fallen on it when the ladder tipped over. Blood ran from the corners of Sweeney’s mouth and he made gurgling sounds when he tried to talk.

  I couldn’t feel any sympathy for this killer and looked down at his face as the life was draining out of his body. I squatted next to him and said, “Live by the gun, die by the gun.”

  Blood bubbles came out of Sweeney’s mouth followed by one last gasp before he fell silent.

  “Stay here with him, would you Matt?” Dan said. “I’m going to call it in.”

  Sean Kelly cautiously peeked around the corner and saw me standing over Byron Sweeney’s body. He looked at the grotesque site and turned away, vomiting in the grass. He straightened up and was about to walk away when he suddenly bent over and lost another pint of stomach contents. He left the scene again and I didn’t see him until the medical examiner’s men came for Sweeney’s body.

  *****

  The weekend came and Amy and I drove to the county courthouse to stand in as witnesses for Dan and Laverne. The ceremony took less time than it had for Amy and me and before we knew it, the four of us were standing outside the courthouse hugging, shaking hands and slapping shoulders. Dan and Laverne took a short honeymoon to Las Vegas and returned Monday. Dan had to work, but promised Laverne that they’d take an extended honeymoon later in the month.

  The fall came and went and Clay was getting bigger every day. By the following summer he was up and walking on his own. He’d spoken his first words that summer, saying, “Tooter,” which I took to mean, “Cooper.” He’d heard it enough around the house and when Dan visited. Who knew that would be the word he would choose to focus on?

  Laverne was getting huge by now. She was due in mid-September and Dan was sure his relatives already had a wall calendar with Xs on each day as they passed. When Laverne delivered, Dan was sure the Hollister grapevine would be buzzing with the tallies.

  When the day arrived for Laverne to give birth, nothing happened. The same nothing happened for the next six days. The baby was late. Dan had mixed emotions from this—worry over Laverne’s and the baby’s health, and just a tinge of relief for the calendar counters amongst his side of the family. On the seventh day Laverne’s water broke and she delivered a healthy baby boy shortly after midnight. Dean Orville Hollister came into the world on September 17, 1951. Mother and son came through it without a hitch. Dan, on the other hand, was a nervous wreck, having chewed most of his fingernails so short that several of them bled.

  Amy and I visited Laverne the next day and brought her a blue blanket and a get well card. I’d never seen Dan look so happy as he did when I entered Laverne’s room that morning. When he saw me, he turned away and I thought I saw his hand go to his eyes before he turned back toward me.

  “Must be something in this hospital’s ventilation system,” Dan said. “Really irritates the eyes.”

  “I know,” I said. “Congratulations, Dan.” I shook his hand and patted his shoulder. He pulled a cigar from his shirt pocket and stuck one end of it in my mouth.

  Amy stood at Laverne’s bedside and bent over the baby, tickling his chin and talking nonsensical baby talk. The baby seemed to respond to her voice.

  I stepped closer and got a look at the bracelet the baby was wearing. I leaned closer to see the name on it. “Dean Orville Hollister,” I said. “No Daniel, Junior?”

  “No Matthew Junior?” Dan said, looking at me.

  “Touché,” I said. “But where did you get the names?”

  “Dean was Laverne’s father,” Dan said. “And Orville was my father. The Hollister part we just picked at random.”

  Laverne pulled a face at Dan. “Dan, Dan, Dan,” Laverne said. “What am I going to do with you?”

  Dan stepped closer and bent down to kiss his wife. “Looks like you’ll have to keep me,” Dan said.

  I turned to Dan and said, “Dean’s just fourteen months younger than Clay. Maybe they’ll get to play together when they get older.”

  “Maybe,” Dan said, another tear running down his cheek. “Damned hospital ventilation system,” he said.

  33 - Top Of The World

  I came home after a long day of gumshoeing, as Amy liked to call it. All I wanted to do was relax in my chair, put my feet up and play with Clay. My son, Clay would turn five next week. Next year he’d be starting grade school and before you know it, he’d be asking for the car keys.

  I’d just settled in for a quiet night of television when I was ambushed. He jumped on me from out of nowhere and grabbed my neck with his left hand and stuck his gun in my face with his right hand. It was a bit of a struggle, but I managed to subdue my attacker. I flipped him on his back and he yelled at me, firing wildly into the air.

  “I give up, dad,” Clay said as I started to tickle him. He giggled and tried to talk again. “Stop, I give up. Daddy.”

  Amy came in from the kitchen. “Are you two kids done making noise yet?” She said, wiping her hands on her apron. “Dinner will be ready soon.”

  Immediately Clay and I both fell still and silent and looked at her, trying to act innocent. I looked at Clay and held my index finger to my lips. He mimicked my actions and Amy had to laugh.

  “You two,” she said, shaking her head. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Feed us?” I said. I turned to Clay. “Are you hungry, too?”

  He gave me an enthusiastic nod and hopped off the couch, heading toward the kitchen.

  “Uh uh,” Amy said. “You go wash your hands first, young man.”

  Clay stopped in his tracks and did an about face, walking slowly to the bathroom. I walked toward Amy and got the same instructions. “You too, Matt.” Amy said.

  By the time Clay and I finished in the bathroom, Amy had three places set at the table. I sat across from her. Clay sat on a small riser that sat on his chair so he could see over the table. Amy took Clay’s plate and scooped some of the potatoes from the bowl onto it. I held my plate out and she did the same for me.

  “Interesting thing happened at work today,” I said as Amy finished filling my plate.

  She gave me a look that I knew all too well. “Matt,” she reminded me, “I thought we agreed not to discuss your work in front of you-know-who.”

  Clay looked at me. “She means me, dad.”

  “No,” I said. “It’s nothing like that. Laverne Hollister stopped by my office today with Dean. He had a cute little sailor suit on with the hat and all. Just thought you’d be interested.”

  “I am,” Amy said, relieved that I wasn’t conveying another story about the three Ms of my job—murder, ma
yhem and malice. “I’ll bet he’s grown an inch since I last saw him.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t think to measure him when they stopped in. Oh, and by the way, Laverne told me to remind you about this weekend at the lake.”

  “That’s right,” Amy said. “That is this weekend already, isn’t it? Did you keep it open on your calendar, dear?”

  “It’s the July fourth weekend, I have it written down,” I assured her. “I’ve been practicing with Clay out in the yard with the ball, bat and glove. We can hold our own with any father and son team out there.”

  “Well, just don’t get too competitive,” Amy said. “Remember, Dean’s not even four yet, so take it easy on him.”

  “If you can’t run with the big dogs, stay on the porch,” I said and quickly smiled to soften that statement. “I know, I know. We’ll take it easy on him, won’t we?” I looked at Clay and winked. He smiled back and nodded, his mouth full of food.

  After dinner I retreated to the living room and settled into the sofa. My favorite television show, The Adventures Of Superman had just started. I’d seen a few Superman movies with Kirk Allen, but for my money, George Reeves was the best of the caped heroes. Clay curled up next to me and watched in absolute wonder as Clark Kent made a mad dash for the supply room, ripping the hat from his head and pulling off his glasses. A second later when Superman jumped out the window and flew away, even Clay noticed that Superman looked suspiciously like Clark Kent without his glasses.

  “Bedtime,” Amy announced, tapping on her wristwatch.

  “Aw mom,” Clay protested. “Can’t I…”

  “No you can’t,” Amy said. “Bedtime.”

  I looked down at Clay. “You heard your mother, go on.”

  Clay slid off the couch and started to walk away. “Clay,” I said, pointing to my cheek.

  Clay came back and gave me a kiss. “Good night, dad,” he said.

  “Good night, Clay,” I said, and hugged him once more. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Amy finished doing the dishes and joined me on the sofa. This was quite a life change for me since I married Amy six years earlier. I’d been single for quite a few years after Stella, my first wife had died during a holdup at the grocery store more than ten years ago. I thought for sure I was destined to be a lifelong bachelor when Amy came into my life purely by accident. But I have to admit, I’ve never been happier than I am at this moment.

  The rest of my week slipped by uneventfully and when Saturday morning rolled around I rose early and started packing for our trip to the lake. I let Amy sleep a little longer and put some of the supplies in the trunk of my Olds. By the time Amy got up, all that was left to pack were the food and drink items. I let her take care of those. Clay slowly walked into the kitchen clutching his favorite stuffed bear, Fred.

  “Let’s go, sleepyhead,” I said to Clay. “We’re going to the lake today.”

  Suddenly he came alive, dropping the bear and running back to his bedroom. I followed him in and helped him get dressed. When we met Amy in the kitchen, she had everything we needed in the car and was ready to go. “Are you two ready?” Amy said.

  “I’m hungry,” Clay said.

  “So am I,” I said. “That’s why we’re going to get breakfast on the road today.”

  “Won’t it be dirty?” Clay said.

  “Huh?” I said and then deciphered Clay’s literal statement. It made me laugh. “No, Clay, we’re not really going to eat breakfast ON the road. We’re eating in the diner. You can have pancakes if you want.” That made him smile his big, baby-tooth smile.

  I pulled out of the driveway and aimed the car north. From the back seat Clay made sure he told us about every interesting he saw along the road. It took just thirty-five minutes to get to the diner. Clay had his pancakes while Amy and I chose the bacon and egg special with coffee.

  “You ready for a little baseball today, Clay?” I said.

  Clay nodded, chewed his pancakes and swallowed some of his milk before he could answer. “Yes,” he finally answered. “Are we going to play with Dean and Uncle Dan?”

  Clay started calling Dan Hollister Uncle Dan shortly after he started talking and we never corrected him. Dan was like family, after all, but we were not related. Dean was Dan’s four-year-old son. Lieutenant Dan Hollister had been my superior back when I was on the force, during World War II. We hadn’t been friends back then. In fact, he’d been a thorn in my side for a year or more even after I’d left the force to start my own private investigation service right after the war. These days we’re good friends and spent a lot of time with each other.

  The three of us finished our breakfast and drove on toward the lake. I found a parking spot close to the picnic area and the three of us carried what we needed to the first picnic table we found. Amy spread the checkered tablecloth across the picnic table and quickly set a few bowls on it to hold it down.

  Clay and I ran to the edge of the lake and slipped out of our sneakers. I had a towel draped over my neck and was wearing a tee shirt and shorts. I was tempted to peel off the shirt and take a dip in the lake, but knew I had to stay and keep an eye on Clay. The water felt cool and refreshing between our toes and around our ankles. Clay stomped hard, splashing water on me. I recoiled and came toward him, my hands raised up, fingers curled, like a movie monster. He shrieked and ran back to the picnic table and the safety of Amy’s skirt.

  “Have Dan and Laverne arrived yet?” I said, plucking a sliced and peeled carrot from the bowl on the table.

  “I haven’t seen them yet,” Amy said. “They’ll be along any time now. I’ll call you when they get here. Why don’t you take Clay back over to the water and play with him while I get all this ready?”

  “All right,” I said, grabbing two cookies from a basket Amy had set on the table. I gave one to Clay and stuck the other in my mouth. I took Clay by the hand and we walked to the water’s edge to walk barefooted on the beach.

  Clay finished his cookie about the same time I did. He looked up at me with his big brown eyes and smiled.

  “Having fun?” I said.

  Clay nodded enthusiastically and then looked out onto the lake, pointing. “Look daddy, a boat,” he said.

  I looked where Clay was pointing and saw a motorboat pulling a water skier behind it. The girl on the skies smiled and waved to her friends on the beach as she passed. Clay waved back, even though he had no idea who the girl was. I heard Amy yelling to us and looked back toward the picnic table. Dan and Laverne Hollister were setting a few items on the table. Dan looked over and waved at us. He was holding his son, Dean in his arms. I motioned for him to come and join Clay and me. Dan brought Dean to the beach and I could see Laverne and Amy setting places at the table and talking.

  “How’s the water?” Dan said.

  “Refreshing,” I said, wiggling my toes for emphasis. “You going in?”

  Dan glanced at Dean and shook his head. “Maybe later after Laverne puts Dean down for his nap. But you go ahead.”

  “Will you watch Clay while I take a quick dip?” I said.

  “Sure,” Dan said, setting Dean down on the sand. “He can play with Dean.”

  “Thanks,” I said, handing Clay my towel, peeling off my tee shirt and walking into the lake. It felt cool on my chest. The motorboat swung around again, pulling the water skier behind it. As the skier got closest to me, she bumped up in the water a little and fell forward, almost doing a summersault in the water. She resurfaced quickly and waved to let the boat’s driver know she was okay. She was treading water, waiting for the boat to swing back around when she suddenly screamed and back paddled away from the spot where she’d fallen.

  I looked out onto the water and saw a body floating face down. That must be what the skier had hit, causing her to tumble. She paddled back toward shore, gasping and yelling something unintelligible. I jumped all the way in and swam as fast as I could toward the floating person. I got to the body and quickly turned it over and looked a
t the face. It was a young man in green swimming trunks, perhaps twenty, his face a pale blue. I wrapped my arm around his chest and paddled back to shore with my free hand.

  By now dozens of people had gathered on the beach, Amy and Laverne among them. Once they saw what the commotion was all about, they gathered up their sons and took them away from the beach while Dan waded out into the lake and met me coming in. He helped me get the body to shore and we laid it on the sand, face down, his arms folded under his chin. I started resuscitation efforts, straddling the man’s back, pulling the elbows back toward me and then pressing on the back, repeating the cycle several times.

  I flipped him over on his back, pinched his nose shut and covered his mouth with mine, blowing into his lungs. I repeated this several time before I felt Dan’s hand on my shoulder.

  “It’s too late, Matt,” Dan said. “He’s gone.”

  I got off the man and stood, looking down at his lifeless body.

  “I’ll call for an ambulance,” Dan said and walked toward the public bathhouse a hundred feet up the beach.

  I looked around in the crowd of onlookers. “Anyone here know this man?” No one stepped forward. Another man stepped up to me and handed me his blanket. I thanked him and spread it over the body. Everyone seemed to be talking at once now.

  A few minutes later Dan returned and nodded. “The ambulance is on its way,” Dan said. He turned toward the noisy crowd now and used his official voice. “All right,” Dan said, “it’s all over. Go on back to wherever you were. An ambulance is on its way and we’ll need some room to move.”

  A man who’d been watching the excitement said, “Who are you to tell us to move on. You think you’re a cop or something?”

  Dan pulled his wallet out and flipped it open in the man’s face. “What’s that you were saying, sir?”

  The man’s face softened. “Nothing,” he said, and walked away without further comment.

  Dan addressed the other people who were still milling around. “The rest of you will have to move on. There’s nothing more to see here.”