This is not like any other job in the world, when you miss something important in this position, another person dies. And it isn’t the sexy and adrenaline-soaked position the public is shown on television shows and in movies. Ninety percent of the job is spent monotonously going over case files, waiting for lab results and waiting for breaks, rather than making them. Jim Flanigan is tired of waiting as he stands alone in his shower, knowing that he has no control over the fact that he doesn’t have much more time to catch this force that has shaped his life over the last thirty years.
Joan walks into the bathroom and peeks into the shower, towel in hand. Jim snaps out of his spell and smiles at her.
“I ironed your uniform,” she says, “it’s on the bed.”
“Thank you,” he says as he takes the towel from her hand. He dries off and makes his way to the bedroom, quickly putting his uniform on. The smell of bacon and a hot pot of coffee quickly lure him to the kitchen, where he finds his wife cooking breakfast. She pours him a cup of coffee and hands it to him. He looks at the frying pan.
“Bacon and eggs,” he says, “sure smells good.”
“You had better eat all of it too,” she says, “I don’t want you going into another one of your spells where you don’t eat because you get too busy to.”
“Alright,” Jim says.
“I saw the news last night,” Joan says, “and I know how things get around here when the case picks back up. Promise me that you will eat lunch and dinner today.”
“I promise,” Flanigan says as he sits down at the table and begins reading the newspaper, the latest murder being the headline.
“I’m alright with you disappearing for the next month, but I at least want you to be healthy,” she says as she scrambles his eggs.
“Joan, you know better than anybody what this case means to me,” Flanigan says, “please don’t accuse me of slighting my responsibilities as a husband, I bust my ass and come home every night.”
“That’s not the kind of disappearing I’m talking about Jim,” she says. “You are going to be retiring soon, just get off of the case and let it go.” Jim laughs at her suggestion.
“Let it go huh?” he says, “Just like that; ride off into the sunset like John Wayne and call it a day.”
“At least I would know then that I would still have someone to share that sunset with,” Joan says, “this case has taken a real toll on your health Jim.”
“Don’t be ridiculous Joan, I can’t retire yet,” Jim says.
“Why can’t you?” Joan asks, “You have put your time in.”
“Do you remember the early stages of the investigation when we had a real task force?” Jim asks.
“Yes I do,” Joan responds, “but what does that have to do with anything?”
“That was twenty years ago and I’m the only one left standing from that group,” Jim says.
“That’s not true Jim… you have the sheriff’s from the other counties and you told me yourself that you specifically brought Hugh on to help you with this,” she says, “remember you were telling me how exciting it was to have someone smart in the department that you could train to take over. I’m sure that after working with you for a couple of months that he will be able to handle things after the dust settles.”
“That’s what I mean Joan,” Flanigan says, “as smart as he is, he is still just a damned kid with zero homicide experience and that’s it. He can’t catch up on everything and just take over, I need to be there.”
“That is not true and you know it Jim… the truth of the matter is that you feel that you have to be the one that catches him,” she says as she puts his breakfast on the table, “and it’s sad. You need to understand that you wouldn’t be giving up if you retired Jim, it isn’t a contest. And people still do care; regardless of the funding, manpower and politics it’s still the leading story on all of the news channels and people in this community are still just as concerned as they were thirty years ago.”
Jim sits and eats his breakfast while Joan sips on her coffee and stares at him, knowing that he realizes that there is quite a bit of truth to what she said.
“You know Joan,” Jim says as he puts his fork down on the plate, “of all the professions the good lord could have put me in, he made me a lawman. And it just so happens my first year as a deputy I end up at the first crime scene. Do you remember my boss, Paul Horgandy?”
“Good lord yes, how on Earth could I not remember Paul?” Joan says.
“Well he looked at me and said the strangest thing at that first Butcher scene,” Flanigan says with a haunting tone, “something that puzzled me to the point where I almost asked him what it meant a time or two.”
“What did he say?” Joan asks.
“He looked at me and said, “Remember young man, God put you here.”” It was an odd thing to say at the time, but it was kind of fitting for him. I was scared out of my mind, I saw evil that I never thought could exist in this world and he walks up and calmly says that to me of all things. I never understood until I got older, but what he meant was there was a reason I was put there, at that moment, in that place and at that time and I had no control over any of it.”
“Honey,” Joan says, “that was over thirty years ago.”
“I think that is partly what he meant Joan,” Jim says, “I am still here, I’m not going anywhere. Catch him or not, this is what I was meant to do. It’s not my will, it’s his and I will hunt him until the day I die.”
“Oh Jim,” Joan says with a laughable frustration, “they just don’t make em’ like you anymore.” A ringing phone interrupts the conversation and Joan picks up, she answers and hand the phone to Jim.
“It’s for you,” she says as she hands him the phone.
“Flanigan,” he says, “Okay I’ll meet you there in about an hour.” He looks at his watch. It is 7 a.m. He hangs up the phone and smacks his wife on the rear end.
“Watch it mister,” she says with a flirtatious smile.
“I love you,” he says.
“You’d better,” she says as he walks out the door.
Chapter 14
Tyrone is awakened by the squeaking sound of his cell door opening and finds Deputy Hugh staring at him.
“Who are you?” Tyrone asks, “Where is Deputy Jones?”
“I’m Deputy Hugh with the Sheriff’s Department,” he says, “and Jones went home a couple of minutes ago.”
“Oh shit,” Tyrone says as he rolls out of his cot rubbing his stomach, “You gonna hook me up with some grub?”
“I’m sure I can find something around here for you to eat,” Hugh says, “come on.” Tyrone gets up off of his cot and walks towards the cell door. Hugh puts his hand up non-verbally telling Tyrone to stop.
“I don’t think so,” Hugh says, “up and against the wall.” Tyrone puts his head against the wall and his hands behind his back.
“You know Tyrone, it is so much easier when you deal with someone who knows the routine,” Hugh says with a smartass tone as he handcuffs Tyrone and walks him out of the cell. He walks him to a room where they find Sheriff Flanigan waiting, sipping on a cup of coffee. Flanigan takes the cuffs off of Tyrone and motions for him to sit down. He hands him a donut and a cup of coffee.
“What is this?” Tyrone asks.
“A donut and a cup of coffee; or as us cops like to call it… breakfast,” Flanigan says.
“You expect me to eat this nasty ass thing?” Tyrone asks as he holds up the stale donut.
“If you’re hungry,” Flanigan says, “we’ll leave you here alone for a minute to eat.” Flanigan and Hugh walk into the hallway. They leave the door just open enough to keep an eye on Tyrone, who begins listening to their conversation while he reluctantly takes a bite from his stale donut.
“Ryan, how’s your son doing?” Flanigan asks.
“Not any better, we’ve been told that it would be a miracle if he makes it through the week,” Hugh says. “It’s even harder, him not being conscious.
Not being able to say anything to him, especially letting him know how much he is loved. I feel like I wasted time Jim. I thought it couldn’t get any worse than it was when I had to explain to him why his hair kept falling out. It’s just not fair. I wish it was me lying in that hospital bed instead of him.”
“Well, Joan and I have been praying for all of you, don’t give up hope,” Flanigan says.
“We really appreciate that,” Hugh says, “I’d better get to this, when this is over I can head to the hospital and see Jeffrey before I start door-to-doors.” Flanigan puts his hand on Hugh’s shoulder to give him comfort.
“Are you feeling well enough to do this?” Flanigan asks. I mean you really should have taken some time off.”
“I’m alright Jim,” Hugh says, “it’s become second nature by now, work helps keep me sane. Hey, I just got the birth certificates and addresses on the rest of the Brask kids and I have door-to-doors to look forward to tonight.”
“Just remember,” Jim says, “If it gets to be too much you just let me know and I would be more than happy to take over.”
“Nah,” Hugh says as he walks into the interview room, “You’ve done your time doing meaningless groundwork on these small time cases, don’t worry, I’m a big boy.” Flanigan smiles and shuts the door behind him. Hugh walks to his chair and sits down. He pops his knuckles and leans back in his chair, his files neatly distributed in front of him. Tyrone finishes his donut and looks away from the intimidating Hugh.
“So here we are,” Hugh calmly says. Tyrone doesn’t answer; he just sits in his chair, head down as if he is staring through the table.
“So are we not going to talk?” Hugh asks. Tyrone remains silent and motionless.
“Look,” Hugh says as he leans towards Tyrone, “We can play this a number of different ways Tyrone, honestly, I don’t care. Any way we go about it I will get what I want; how quickly you tell me what I need to know will play into what happens to you from here on out.” Tyrone glances at him out of the corner of his eye.
“What do you wanna know?” Tyrone asks.
“The first thing that I want to know is where the rest of the boys are,” Hugh says. Tyrone shakes his head with a cocky grin.
“Ah, fuck you pig, I ain’t no snitch,” he says.
“I’ll tell you what Tyrone, you may not be a snitch, but I’ve read your rap sheet and do know what you are,” Hugh says, “and we are from the same place, so I know all about kids like you. Kids like you are the reason ninety year old women are afraid to come out of their houses in the daytime. You are the reason a good black kid gets followed around in the store.”
“Fuck you man, you don’t know nothin’ about me you racist motherfucker,” Tyrone says angrily in response, “cop’s like you are the reason black people don’t want nothin’ to do with the police. I’ll bet if I was a white kid you would be kissing on my mothafuckin’ ass right now instead of giving me a stale donut and talkin’ shit.”
“It’s not like that Tyrone and both you and I know it,” Hugh says, “and if you were white I would still think that you were a bad kid and race has nothing to do with it. You see… I go by what I see and a rap sheet like this at your age is ridiculous. I hope you learn to shape up or your ass is going to be in prison one day, and I’m sure that you know what kind of things go on when the lights go out there.”
“You hope I shape up huh? Yeah, well I hope your son dies,” Tyrone says in response. Hugh jumps up out of his chair and grabs Tyrone by the back of his shirt and throws him against the wall. He repeatedly beats his now unconscious body until Flanigan runs into the room and pulls him off of him.
“RYAN!!! WHAT IN THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH YOU???” Flanigan yells.
“GET OFF OF ME!!!” Hugh screams, aggressively trying to continue his attack. Flanigan uses a tripping technique to subdue Hugh and once on the ground Flanigan puts his handcuffs on him.
“Sorry Ryan,” Flanigan says, “but I’m going to have to place you under arrest.”
“What?” Hugh asks with bewilderment, snapping out of his rage as he tries to squirm away in a much less aggressive manner.
“You have the right to remain silent,” Flanigan says, “anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law, you have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford one…”
“Jim, why are you reading me my Miranda rights?” he interrupts.
“Because Ryan,” he says, “I am placing you under arrest for battery.”
“Come on, are you kidding me?” Hugh says in disbelief.
“No, I’m not,” Jim says, “now get up. I need to get you to a cell so I can get this child some medical attention.”
“Child,” Ryan mockingly says, “did you hear what he said to me? If he’s a child then I am a ninety year old man!”
“Nothing he said gave you the right to do what you did,” Flanigan says, “now get up.”
“He said he hoped Jeffrey died, come on Jim,” Hugh pleads.
“Don’t Jim me, I saw what happened, it’s on camera, and yes, whether you like it or not, by law he is a child,” Flanigan says with frustration.
“Don’t ruin me Jim,” Hugh says, “this will ruin my career.”
“You ruined it yourself, don’t place this on me,” Flanigan says as he pulls Hugh up. Hugh is quickly becoming more and more desperate.
“You just want me off the Butcher case don’t you?” Hugh asks.
“You are making yourself out to be a real idiot,” Flanigan says as he hurriedly walks Hugh to a cell.
“You’re just doing this because you know that I was going to take over!” Ryan screams as he is thrown into the cell. Flanigan ignores him as he shuts the cell door and runs back to the interrogation room. He finds that Tyrone is severely battered and bruised and moaning a bit.
“Are you okay kid?” Flanigan asks as he checks his vitals. Tyrone incoherently mumbles in response and seems to be rolling in and back out of consciousness. Flanigan’s secretary runs into the room.
“What the hell is going on in here?” she asks, “I heard a commotion coming from the cell and found Hugh in there.” She stops in her tracks when she sees Flanigan holding the walloped child.
“Get an ambulance up here pronto,” Flanigan orders.
“Yes sir,” she responds as she sprints out of the room. Flanigan holds Tyrone as if he were his own child, gently rubbing his head, “It’ll be okay kid,” he says, “I promise.”
Chapter 15
The glare of the hot sun blinds the boys as they slowly crawl out of the lake. Hiram and Drake dance around as the hot sand burns their feet.
“Damn, that’s hot,” Drake says as he alternates hopping-legs, “Ouch!”
“Ooh-ahh!” Hiram repeatedly yells as he sprints to his clothes. Kris walks behind them, his clothing completely drenched.
“You see guys; I don’t look so stupid jumping in the lake with my shoes on now, do I?” Kris says, as if he purposely left them on.
“Believe me, that’s not the only reason why you look stupid,” Hiram says as Drake laughs.
“Whatever Hiram,” Kris says as he hops on the sand, “I’d rather LOOK stupid than BE stupid.”
“Ooh, nice burn,” Hiram sarcastically states as he puts on his shoes.
“So guys, what are we going to do about food?” Drake asks, “I’m starting to get pretty hungry.”
“Well, we don’t have any money, so I guess we are going to have to steal some food or go fishing or something,” Kris says.
“Yeah,” Drake says, “I guess that’s about the only way that we are going to be able to eat.”
“There is another way,” Hiram says, “and I’m not doing anything that can get us caught.”
“Whatever happened to don’t worry about anything until we get caught?” Drake asks.
“I had a really rough night last night,” Hiram says, “last night kind of changed my thinking about a lot of things; I really don’t want to steal anything anymore.�
�
“Well then, what is this other way you are talking about?” Drake asks, knowing that Hiram really doesn’t want to go into specifics.
“I’ll tell you when we get back to the campsite,” Hiram says.
“Why when we get back to the campsite?” Drake asks.
“It’s a secret,” Hiram says.
“It’s a secret… it’s a secret,” Kris mockingly sneers jumping into Hiram’s face like a child playing a game of “I’m not touching you”.
“Keep it up,” Hiram says, “and you won’t be going anywhere with us.” Kris quits talking and falls back in line as the boys make their way back up the trail.
They quietly walk until they hear a loud and joyous scream, causing them to freeze and look up. They look up in the air over the trees and see a woman parasailing.
“Get down!” Drake whispers. They squat behind a tree as the woman passes by them.
“What the hell?” Hiram says, “How did she get up there? Did she jump out of a plane or something?”
“No man,” Kris says, “I’m pretty sure that she’s parasailing.”
“What the hell is parasailing?” Hiram asks.
“It’s actually pretty fun,” Kris says, “first they put you in a life jacket with a parachute attached and then they hook you up to ropes and connect you to the back of the boat. When the boat takes off, you go up. It’s a real blast.”
“Well, what happens when the boat stops?” Hiram curiously asks.
“Dude, you are connected to a parachute,” Kris says, “you just slowly go down and land in the water.”
“Does it hurt?” Hiram asks.
“Does what hurt?” Kris asks.
The Light In the Dark Page 13