Read an excerpt!
After a quick breakfast of toast, orange juice, and coffee at the Coffee Mug Restaurant, her nerves too frayed to eat more, Rebecca went in search of the police station. Now to formulate a plan that explained why she needed Jeremy’s address. Several ideas came to mind. One, she wanted to interview him for a small magazine, but not without credentials. Darn, she hated lying. It wasn’t in her nature. But the truth was so off the wall. They’d probably throw her in the booby hatch. She snapped her fingers and came up with an idea. If she could just sound convincing.
Victorian houses and shops lined the streets. The quaint little town resembled a postcard from the late 1800s. The only thing missing were the long dresses, horses, and carriages. Although modernized, the town square had managed to keep the quaint elegance of the Victorian era. Too bad she didn’t remember to bring her camera. Whatever happened with Jeremy, she’d definitely explore the town before she left.
She turned onto River Drive and drove up the hill. It didn’t take long to find the police station. She pulled into the lot and parked, opened the door, and got out. This is it, kid. Hopefully the last step in finding Jeremy. It’s now or never. Rebecca walked into the office.
The chief, himself, greeted her.
“Hello there, little lady.” He smiled and extended his hand. "Chief Dan Casteel, and you are?"
Rebecca shook his rough and weathered hand and looked him over. Mid-fifties, quick smile, and no nonsense attitude. She liked the gray-haired man, especially his drooping, gray mustache. Something told her he had a great sense of humor. Not sure what made her think that. Maybe it was the mischievous twinkle in his dark eyes, or his attitude.
"I’m Rebecca Brennan. Hopefully you can help me." She gave him her brightest smile, even flirted a little.
"My cousin, Isabelle Winters, is a friend of Jeremy Marlin. I told her I was going to be in town, and she asked me to look him up. She said he works for the police department."
Chief Casteel leaned against his desk, crossed his arms over his chest, raised an eyebrow, and grinned at her. Of course he didn’t believe her. Everyone and their brother must be talking about her by now. They knew she went by the newspaper office. Knew she inquired about Jeremy at the hospital. What a dumb story to come up with. She could have done better than that. Oh well, the damage was done. Now what was she going to do?
"So, your cousin’s Jeremy’s friend.” He rubbed his chin as if pondering her story. “So how’d they meet?"
Heat burned her face. What could she say? She knew nothing about Jeremy. Well nothing that a friend of his would know that is. “Can I be frank, Chief?" Best to tell him the truth. What was the worst that could happen? He could send her packing.
"Can we talk someplace, uh...?" Rebecca looked around the large open office. Though the secretary appeared to be working, she had one ear glued to their conversation. An officer sat at the other desk, openly staring at her. It wouldn’t take long for her story to spread all over town.
“Sure. Come on.” The chief led her into a private office, motioned her to take a seat, and leaned against the edge of the desk, arms and legs crossed.
Not a good sign, Rebecca thought. This might be a short conversation.
"Okay," she said in a weak voice. "This is going to sound strange. I mean I find it hard to believe myself. I don’t have a cousin Isabelle, and I don’t know Jeremy personally, but I know a lot about him. I know someone shot him a couple days ago." She paused, tried to still her trembling hands, and looked at the chief’s uplifted eyebrow. If he didn’t believe her, she’d have to think of something else. Right now the truth was the best way.
"Somehow my mind is connected to Jeremy. I see visions. I experience his pain, accomplishments, even his contentment." Rebecca rushed on, trying to make the chief understand this strange phenomenon.
The chief stood up, went behind his desk, and sat down. "Go on," he spoke in a kind voice. “I’d like to hear more."
Encouraged with his calm, serious attitude, she explained the series of events leading to her search for Jeremy, ending with the newspaper article identifying him.
"He’s in grave danger. I don’t know if I can help him, but I need to see him, to warn him.” Rebecca sat back, exhausted from the remembered emotions.
Chief Casteel leaned forward, scrubbed his hands over his face. "That’s quite a story,"
Great, he thinks I’m a nutcase. He’s not going to help. She knew there were other ways to locate Jeremy. The local phone directory listed several Marlins, but no Jeremy.
The chief stood up. "I’ll take you to Jeremy. I want to see his reaction when you tell him your story." The smile playing about his lips told her he wanted to outright laugh.
He opened his office door. “Carolyn, call Julia Marlin and tell her I’m on my way over to see Jeremy.” He glanced at Rebecca. “Tell her I’m bringing a guest with an interesting story.”
Rebecca followed him into the chief’s car, feeling a little tentative. If he wanted, he could take her to the loony bin, and no one would find her. That was ridiculous. When had she become so distrusting?
“Jeremy’s like my own son. I watched him grow up these past twenty-eight years,” the chief told her. “His father was my best friend.”
Rebecca wondered if Jeremy was married, but decided not to ask.
“His father got kilt in the line of duty. Came as a big shock. Not many murders or such around these parts. Pretty peaceful here most the time, but every onct a while." The chief’s hands turned white on the steering wheel. His jaw tightened. His eyes held sadness when he looked at her
“I’m sorry.” Not much of a comeback, but what else could she say?
"Remember the day well. It happened three years ago, right after Jeremy joined the force. Ours ain’t a big force, and we added Jeremy after Old Norb Tyler retired. It happened down on the highway. Mike, Jeremy’s father, tried to stop a speeder. He called for backup when the driver wouldn’t stop.” The chief shook his head.
“By time we got there, Mike’s car lay in a ditch, wheels still spinning, the motor running. They must have shot from their window. Bullet hole went clean through the windshield, hit Mike right ‘tween the eyes. Yes sir, we never did catch who done it."
Rebecca squirmed in her seat. Fortunately, the car slowed and came to a stop, and she didn’t have to comment.
Victorian houses and shops lined the streets. The quaint little town resembled a postcard from the late 1800s. The only thing missing were the long dresses, horses, and carriages. Although modernized, the town square had managed to keep the quaint elegance of the Victorian era. Too bad she didn’t remember to bring her camera. Whatever happened with Jeremy, she’d definitely explore the town before she left.
She turned onto River Drive and drove up the hill. It didn’t take long to find the police station. She pulled into the lot and parked, opened the door, and got out. This is it, kid. Hopefully the last step in finding Jeremy. It’s now or never. Rebecca walked into the office.
The chief, himself, greeted her.
“Hello there, little lady.” He smiled and extended his hand. "Chief Dan Casteel, and you are?"
Rebecca shook his rough and weathered hand and looked him over. Mid-fifties, quick smile, and no nonsense attitude. She liked the gray-haired man, especially his drooping, gray mustache. Something told her he had a great sense of humor. Not sure what made her think that. Maybe it was the mischievous twinkle in his dark eyes, or his attitude.
"I’m Rebecca Brennan. Hopefully you can help me." She gave him her brightest smile, even flirted a little.
"My cousin, Isabelle Winters, is a friend of Jeremy Marlin. I told her I was going to be in town, and she asked me to look him up. She said he works for the police department."
Chief Casteel leaned against his desk, crossed his arms over his chest, raised an eyebrow, and grinned at her. Of course he didn’t believe her. Everyone and their brother must be talking about her by now. They knew she went by the newspaper office. Knew she inquired about Jeremy at the hospital. What a dumb story to come up with. She could have done better than that. Oh well, the damage was done. Now what was she going to do?
"So, your cousin’s Jeremy’s friend.” He rubbed his chin as if pondering her story. “So how’d they meet?"
Heat burned her face. What could she say? She knew nothing about Jeremy. Well nothing that a friend of his would know that is. “Can I be frank, Chief?" Best to tell him the truth. What was the worst that could happen? He could send her packing.
"Can we talk someplace, uh...?" Rebecca looked around the large open office. Though the secretary appeared to be working, she had one ear glued to their conversation. An officer sat at the other desk, openly staring at her. It wouldn’t take long for her story to spread all over town.
“Sure. Come on.” The chief led her into a private office, motioned her to take a seat, and leaned against the edge of the desk, arms and legs crossed.
Not a good sign, Rebecca thought. This might be a short conversation.
"Okay," she said in a weak voice. "This is going to sound strange. I mean I find it hard to believe myself. I don’t have a cousin Isabelle, and I don’t know Jeremy personally, but I know a lot about him. I know someone shot him a couple days ago." She paused, tried to still her trembling hands, and looked at the chief’s uplifted eyebrow. If he didn’t believe her, she’d have to think of something else. Right now the truth was the best way.
"Somehow my mind is connected to Jeremy. I see visions. I experience his pain, accomplishments, even his contentment." Rebecca rushed on, trying to make the chief understand this strange phenomenon.
The chief stood up, went behind his desk, and sat down. "Go on," he spoke in a kind voice. “I’d like to hear more."
Encouraged with his calm, serious attitude, she explained the series of events leading to her search for Jeremy, ending with the newspaper article identifying him.
"He’s in grave danger. I don’t know if I can help him, but I need to see him, to warn him.” Rebecca sat back, exhausted from the remembered emotions.
Chief Casteel leaned forward, scrubbed his hands over his face. "That’s quite a story,"
Great, he thinks I’m a nutcase. He’s not going to help. She knew there were other ways to locate Jeremy. The local phone directory listed several Marlins, but no Jeremy.
The chief stood up. "I’ll take you to Jeremy. I want to see his reaction when you tell him your story." The smile playing about his lips told her he wanted to outright laugh.
He opened his office door. “Carolyn, call Julia Marlin and tell her I’m on my way over to see Jeremy.” He glanced at Rebecca. “Tell her I’m bringing a guest with an interesting story.”
Rebecca followed him into the chief’s car, feeling a little tentative. If he wanted, he could take her to the loony bin, and no one would find her. That was ridiculous. When had she become so distrusting?
“Jeremy’s like my own son. I watched him grow up these past twenty-eight years,” the chief told her. “His father was my best friend.”
Rebecca wondered if Jeremy was married, but decided not to ask.
“His father got kilt in the line of duty. Came as a big shock. Not many murders or such around these parts. Pretty peaceful here most the time, but every onct a while." The chief’s hands turned white on the steering wheel. His jaw tightened. His eyes held sadness when he looked at her
“I’m sorry.” Not much of a comeback, but what else could she say?
"Remember the day well. It happened three years ago, right after Jeremy joined the force. Ours ain’t a big force, and we added Jeremy after Old Norb Tyler retired. It happened down on the highway. Mike, Jeremy’s father, tried to stop a speeder. He called for backup when the driver wouldn’t stop.” The chief shook his head.
“By time we got there, Mike’s car lay in a ditch, wheels still spinning, the motor running. They must have shot from their window. Bullet hole went clean through the windshield, hit Mike right ‘tween the eyes. Yes sir, we never did catch who done it."
Rebecca squirmed in her seat. Fortunately, the car slowed and came to a stop, and she didn’t have to comment.
COMING SOON FROM MUSEITUP PUBLISHING!
Roseanne Dowell is an avid reader and writes various types of romance - paranormal, contemporary, and mystery. She has several books published as well as over 40 articles and short stories published in magazines such as Good Old Days, Nostalgia, and Ohio Writer and several online publications. Besides teaching writing courses for Long Story School of Writing www.lsswritingschool.com , she also taught two writing courses for the Encore Program at Cuyahoga Community College. You can find most of her books at MuseItUp Publishing http://bit.ly/roseannebooks.
Roseanne lives in Northeast Ohio and where she enjoys life as a wife, mother of six, grandmother of fourteen and great grandmother of one. Besides writing, Roseanne enjoys embroidery and quilting, especially combining the two.
Visit Roseanne at her website http://www.roseannedowell.com/ or her blog http://roseannedowellauthor.blogspot.com/.
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