Milo's Journey

by Barbara Howard

  “Parked. Propane. It'll be fine. Perfectly safe, Tracinda.”

  “How do you know for sure, huh?”

  “I'm helping him with the conversion kit build-out.”

  “What?”

  “Come here, come here.” He put down the water bottle and swept her up in his arms. “The kid’s building his own business. Okay? He's already got a following with his friends and Moe's throwing all the outside catering business his way. Plus, it's something he's good at.”

  “But ...”

  “Listen,” he smiled and looked into her eyes. “Do I want him to go to college first? Yes.”

  “But ...”

  “But he's becoming a man now. You have to let him make his own choices and not give him a hard time about it. And, part of that is watching him make decisions that you don't agree with.”

  “But, but, I don't like that part.” She buried her face in his chest and wept. He stroked her hair and gave her a few kisses as she sniffled and nuzzled her face under his chin. He understood that she would always see Milo as that lost young boy and every step that he took into adulthood was a struggle for her. But there was nothing she could do to slow that down and one day it would be the same with little Remy.

  “I know, I know. It’s going to be alright.” He whispered in her ear, “Seriously, did you bring home some of Moe's ribs, or ...?”

  “Randall, ugh!” She groaned, picked up R.J. and checked his diaper.

  Randall looked over the menu plan stuck on the fridge door next to the family photo collage. “Hey Brad,” he shouted out the screen door. “How you feel about kale stuffed roasted cauliflower with potatoes and onions for dinner?”

  “Shoot me now.” Brad bellowed from the porch.

  “Very funny,” Traci said and pulled a fresh diaper from the caddy.

  “Okay, I guess that means I've got to make a run to Red Roasters to get my carnivore fix.”

  “Fine. Bring me the black bean and avocado burrito bowl,” she said and walked into the living room.

  “Right, right.” Randall slipped on his ball cap.

  “And the toasted frozen coconut smoothie. Unless they have the coconut matcha horchata, then get that instead. I don’t know why I’m into coconut these days.”

  “Right, okay, got it.” He walked out the back door and slapped Brad on the shoulder. “You wanna roll with me?”

  “Naw, I'm gonna sit right here, finish this beer and watch the cement dry.”

  “Well, we finally found something you’re good at.”

  TRACI LOWERED R.J. into his playpen and answered the front door. Two KMP officers were waiting on the porch. She thought one looked familiar. What’s his name Gerald, or ...

  “Tracinda Simmons?”

  “Wells.”

  “Again?”

  “Tracinda Simmons Wells. Why? What's going on? Do you have news about the couple you found in the cabin? I mean about the deceased couple ...I mean, the remains?”

  “We need some information from you.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “There are some questions we need you to answer concerning your whereabouts during a certain timeframe, your relationship with Joshua St. John, and some activities he was involved in while you two were ... friends. May we come inside?”

  “No,” Bradford said from the kitchen, “not without a signed warrant from Judge Davis. Don't step one boot across that threshold. As a matter of fact, I would advise you to leave the premises.”

  Traci looked back at Brad. He shook his head and mouthed ‘No’ at her.

  “We can come back another time,” the officer said and glanced at Brad, noticeably irritated by the interference, “with a warrant. However, we'd like you to cooperate voluntarily with us and just answer a few questions down at the station.”

  “Okay,” Traci said, then looked back at Brad. “I'm going to go with them. Maybe it’ll help get to the bottom of what happened to those poor people. Watch R.J. for me, okay? I'm sure it won't take long.”

  Traci stepped outside and followed the policemen down the porch steps. Officer Jerome turned to her and said softly, “I’m sorry.”

  “Hands behind your back,” the other officer said and reached for the handcuffs attached to his belt.

  “Wait, what?”

  He forced her to turn around, pulled her arms together behind her back and snapped the handcuffs onto her wrists. He seized her by the arm and led her to the awaiting squad car.

  “What are you doing? What’s going on?”

  “What do you think?” He opened the back door and shoved her forward. “You’re under arrest.”

  “For what? I didn’t do anything,” she twisted her body around and tried to flee back to the house, but the two men forced her inside the car. “Brad!” she shouted just before the door was slammed in her face.

  Brad rushed to the porch holding R.J. “I'll let Randall know what's happening,” he yelled. “Don't say anything until he shows up.”

  Chapter Nine

  Randall

  RANDALL STARED AT THE KMP headquarters building through the windshield of the Chevelle. He didn’t recognize any of the cops standing around outside. And, that was a good thing.

  “I know you’ve had your eye on her from jump,” Randall said trying to ease the discomfort of the transaction with his best friend. He signed the title of the Chevelle, climbed out of the car and walked around to the driver’s window, handed it over to R.D. and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

  When Randall got the text from Brad that Traci had been picked up by KMP, he immediately thought of two people. First, he contacted Attorney Gary Chambers, a recent transplant to Faucier county. His law firm had a stellar reputation and its success was not baked into the local political network. Randall unloaded all of his worries about the arrest and potential liabilities regarding the incident at Wyman’s. The retainer fee was steep but what choice did he have? And that brought him to the second person on the list. He made the call to the Game and Glory gun shop and confided in R.D.

  “Yeah, I’ve been wanting to get my hands on it but not like this.” His friend held the document for a moment and looked up at Randall with a quick smile that vanished within seconds. “I’ll keep it in storage until you’re ready to buy it back from me.”

  “I appreciate you, man. This should cover our legal fees, for now anyway.” Randall pulled out his wallet and tucked the check inside. “I don’t know when this nightmare is going to be over.” He ran his fingers across the door handle. “I’ve contacted a few places to get prices on my equipment. The next move is to liquidate my business. But even with that, I don’t know how long we can keep Wyman’s open. Everything is crumbling right before our eyes.”

  “It’s gonna all blow over and you’ll come out better on the other side.” R.D. said. “If you need anything else, make sure I’m the first one you call. I’m here for you guys.”

  “Yeah, I’ve got to get moving.” Randall said, “Take care of Roxy.”

  He stepped back from the car and watched as it pulled away and out of the parking lot. There was no time to get weepy-eyed about Roxy. It was just a car and he would find another one. Right now, it was time to find the arresting officer and settle this beef.

  He had tried to keep a good working relationship with KMP. They needed transparency and full cooperation when one of his men called for backup on a surveillance job, like that robbery in progress at Blitz Liquor Store last week. And his security guards were the extra eyes and ears that helped the police force monitor unwanted activity in Keeferton. They needed to trust each other and work together. But, this action against his wife meant all bets were off. Everything would change and he was about to let them know it.

  Randall pushed past several officers at the entrance of KMP headquarters. As he reached for the door, he heard a familiar voice.

  “Let's take a walk.”

  “I can't, Chief, I've got to ...”

  “This way.” Chief Dorsett motioned to the p
ark across the street and walked on ahead of him. Randall tightened his jaw, looked around and stepped up to match his stride.

  “We're dropping the charges against your wife,” Dorsett said immediately and continued walking toward his favorite bench. “I calmed her down and sent her home in a taxi. She’s fine. A little shook up, but fine.” He glanced at Randall, then turned away. “Stop and take a breath. Don’t lose your head over it.”

  . "Good God, man. What do you expect? My wife was just arrested. I need to be with her right now. I don’t have time to talk to you."

  "If you want her to stay out of jail, you'll sit down and listen to me, right now.” Dorsett sat down on the bench in front of the merry-go-round that faced away from the building. A couple of teenagers dismounted the swing set, gathered up their backpacks and scurried away. “Hayden said he wanted to ask a few questions about St. John and link him to the dead bodies at the campgrounds. File a report. End of story. Maybe hold a press conference. Fine. You know Hayden, always trying to look big and important. But arresting a young woman, a mother ...” He sucked his teeth in disgust. “One of the senior guys contacted me and I got back here to take care of it.”

  “My wife, she and ... That was a long time ago.” Randall said softly.

  “Save it. I know she didn't have anything to do with it. And neither did he. St. John was a lot of things, but a murderer? No. As a matter of fact, he was helpful in keeping the peace, in his way, around Tent City and the projects over on Top Hill. I knew the man. He was no killer.”

  “What's going on, Chief?” Randall settled himself on the bench and let his shoulders relax. He was trying to piece together everything he knew about the department but came up with even more questions. He needed to have answers the next time he looked into Traci’s eyes. If she was the target of an investigation, or anything else, he was going to deal with it. And no one, including Chief Dorsett was going to stop him.

  “I spoke to the commissioner and ordered an independent investigation,” Dorsett said as if he had read Randall’s mind. “We’ll go through the motions and make sure the rest of the force follows the guidance when we get the results. That and the autopsy report will tell it all. And ... the media will run the story until people get bored with it and find something else to obsess about.”

  “Okay, so you want me to wait for the results. Is that it? That'll take weeks, months maybe.”

  “Look, I'll save you the time,” Dorsett said as he searched his pockets and finally retrieved a pack of peppermint wafers, then lifted the pack toward Randall who waved away the offer. He slipped one of the candies into his mouth and wedged it along his jaw, then continued, “The investigation and autopsy report are going to show that the deaths were a result of a skiing accident. The deceased were husband and wife on vacation from Lancaster County. Fell off the lift, snapped their necks. The bodies were dumped at Wyman's after St. John was already dead and buried.”

  “Who would do something like that? If that's true, why drag his name into this? And, come after my wife? That’s insane.” Randall stood up and looked at the security cameras mounted on the top of KMP headquarters. He needed names. He would sort out the motive later. As a matter of fact, he didn’t really care about their motives. He just wanted to know who was behind all of this madness. Dorsett calmly pointed at the bench signaling him to sit back down and watched out of the corner of his eye until Randall complied.

  “Use your brain, son.” He crunched the peppermint, swallowed it down and dropped two more in his mouth. He inhaled a deep breath and let it out, then looked off toward the clouds.

  “My Patrina wants me to drive her across country ... in a big ol' RV. Can you imagine? She wants out of Keeferton. ‘See the world on the open road,’ she says. I don't know what's crazier, being stuck behind the wheel locked up in a rolling box with Patty and her hateful cats. Or, the fact that I just bought the darn thing.” He shook his head and chuckled. “They're delivering it in the morning, then we take off in it next month. Satin Stream Deluxe. It's a beautiful thing.” He crunched another peppermint and looked up at the clouds again. “Ahh, she might be right about it. Might be just what we need.”

  Randall closed his eyes, counted to ten, and unclenched his fists. Getting irritated with Dorsett wouldn’t serve his cause and he needed all the information he could get. He opened his eyes and searched for the right words. “Well, that's nice. I'm supposed to take my wife up to Evan's Pier for a week. It’s too late to cancel our reservations. Expensive but we sure do need some time away from all this.”

  “Interesting.” Dorsett glanced over his shoulder, then looked at Randall. “You know who owns that place, don't you? Quantor Group.”

  Randall furrowed his brow. He knew that company was responsible for all the major developments in Faucier county. Every construction barrel in town was a result of some new project Quantor was constructing or a building they were demolishing. Their signs were everywhere, even on the uniforms of the Tee-Tots softball team. Sponsorships and charity events kept them in the news and within a few short years, they were totally integrated into the fabric of Keeferton governmental and community networks. They had power. But who were they?

  “Those are the folks behind Mayor Thompson,” Dorsett answered before Randall could pose the question. “I hear he really likes hanging around up there at that new resort ... a lot. It's like a second home to him.” The chief tossed the candy wrapper aside, turned and narrowed his eyes at Randall. In a split second, his countenance changed so dramatically that it caught Randall off guard. “Listen, I just dropped everything and postponed my retirement to make this move for you.” He glanced over his shoulder again and lowered his voice, “Now I'm handing it off. It's on you to finish it. Don't drop the ball.”

  What kind of game was this man playing? Saying something without saying anything. It was infuriating. This had not been his style when Randall started on the force. Dorsett was afraid. What could be intimidating this man after all these years?

  Randall turned away from him. He didn’t want to get sucked into any of the politics or scandals. That’s why he left KMP. And here it was knocking on his door again. They could flush the whole department down the drain as far as he was concerned. He just wanted to get home to Traci. He would take care of his family. And, he would turn their attorney loose on the Wyman’s investigation and any conspiracies behind it. It would cost them, but they had to put a stop to it.

  Randall stood up ready to offer an excuse and extract himself from the conversation when he received a text from Traci.

  “Babe, I’ve been fired.”

  Chapter Ten

  Milo

  MILO FOUND A CLEAR spot for them to sit down and unpacked his carrier. He opened a bottle of sweet iced tea, dropped in a straw and passed it to Jules. She set up the small table on the ground next to them. He opened each container of food. Jules was what he called a “neat eater” and so he had found plates with dividers and added servings to each section.

  The roasted turkey had been pulled from the bone and the sauce was in a separate condiment jar for dipping. Roasted red potatoes were partially peeled and seasoned. The brussel sprouts were halved and lightly glazed. Everything was laid out evenly in the divided portion. He unrolled the napkin containing the utensils and set them in place.

  Jules draped the napkin on her lap and sipped her drink. She liked potatoes but not french fries, salads but with the dressing on the side. Russian not Ranch, fresh not bottled. Jules was very particular, and he loved that. After everything was set before her, she smiled and thanked him. He retrieved the jumbo smoked turkey leg in foil, unwrapped it and took a bite. His style was more “cave man” and they complemented each other.

  “You know something people don't realize?” Jules said and leaned toward him as if she had prepared to share some important secret.

  “What's that?” Milo said and wiped his mouth.

  “You can actually see more with your eyes closed.”

&
nbsp; He looked at her for a moment and wondered if this was some type of word puzzle.

  “Try it,” she said. “Close your eyes. Listen first, then tell me. What do you see?”

  Milo paused, then closed his eyes and listened. He sat back and waited. And, she was right. In came the sounds of the leaves, the birds, the horses far off in the stable. So many different bird calls, and the cars buzzing down the highway on the other side of the cove. Yeah, he could see them all in his mind. Even the individual trees had unique sounds. The pin oak sounded different than the maple when he stopped and really listened for them.

  “What color is my shirt? No cheating.” Jules said and quickly placed her hand over his eyes.

  “White ... and pink. Little pink things, like dots but not ...”

  “You're right.” She pulled her hand away, picked up her fork and speared a small potato. “Do you think they were in love?”

  Milo opened his eyes. “What? Who?”

  “The couple they found in that cabin.”

  “The dead people?”

  “Yeah, do you think about them? I do. I wonder about them.”

  “Well ...” He enjoyed watching her eat his food. She swallowed down the vegetables and started on the turkey.

  “Like maybe they were meeting here in secret.” She poured a drop of BBQ sauce on the bit of turkey at the end of her fork. “And, they were married but to different people and they got caught. And, the husband came and shot them both.”

  “Wow, Jules.” He laughed and shook his head.

  “Those things happen, you know.”

  “I guess they do.”

  “It's almost like a movie, right?”

  “What do you mean?” He wasn’t sure where she was going with the conversation, but he enjoyed listening to her no matter what they talked about. He had taken another “sick day” off from the restaurant. He knew eventually Moe would catch on, but he would work extra hours to make up for it later.