Fort Lupton
Denver Cereal, Volume Eleven
Claudia Hall Christian
Cook Street Publishing
Denver, CO
by
Claudia Hall Christian
StoriesbyClaudia.com
The Denver Cereal
The Denver Cereal
Celia’s Puppies
Cascade
Cimarron
Black Forest
Fairplay
Gold Hill
Silt
Larkspur
Firestone
Fort Lupton
Alex the Fey Thrillers
The Fey
Learning to Stand
Who I am
Lean on Me
In the Grey
Finding North
The Queen of Cool
The Queen of Cool
Seth and Ava Mysteries
Tax Assassin
Carving Knife
Suffer a Witch
Suffer a Witch
Copyright © Claudia Hall Christian
ISNI: 0000 0003 6726 170X
Licensed under the Creative Commons License:
Attribution – NonCommercial – Share Alike 3.0
SMASHWORDS
ISBN-13 : 978-1-938057-28-1 (digital)
Library of Congress : 2015913832
PUBLISHER’S NOTE:
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
First edition © serial fiction March 31, 2014 – October 4, 2014
Cook Street Publishing
ISNI: 0000 0004 1443 6403
PO Box 18217
Denver, CO 80218
For Rose.
_________________________________
What’s happened so far
Denver Cereal is an addicting, fun, sweet and crunchy serial fiction filled with the tension, drama, and love of urban life.
The best way to catch up is to read Grand Junction, Denver Cereal Volume 1- 10 wherever eBooks are sold or online at StoriesbyClaudia.com.
We used to write a section here that gave a synopsis of all of the previous books. Frankly, the synopsis’ weren’t very good. More than anything, they deprived you of the chance to hang out in Denver Cereal for a while. We were only be spoiling your fun You deserve a chance to read all the twists and turns, mischief, and wild adventures of Denver Cereal. These aren’t books to be accomplished or checked off a list. They are stories to be savored and enjoys.
Get to it. We’ll be here when you get back.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter Three hundred and four: Coffee Cup
Chapter Three hundred and five: Good Lover
Chapter Three hundred and six: Clear my head
Chapter Three hundred and seven: Why you’re here
Chapter Three hundred and eight: In the matter of
Chapter Three hundred and nine: Too tired for murder
Chapter Three hundred and ten: Shield
Chapter Three hundred and eleven: Badass
Chapter Three hundred and twelve: Tiniest firefly
Chapter Three hundred and thirteen: Just a little crazy
Chapter Three hundred and fourteen: Special
Chapter Three hundred and fifteen: Need me
Chapter Three hundred and sixteen: A whole lot of hate
Chapter Three hundred and seventeen: Fairy magic
Chapter Three hundred and eighteen: Totaled
Chapter Three hundred and nineteen: Chocolate chip cookies
Chapter Three hundred and twenty: In motion
Chapter Three hundred and twenty-one: One day at a time
Chapter Three hundred and twenty-two: Everything’s new
Chapter Three hundred and twenty-three: Absence
Chapter Three hundred and twenty-four: Take it in
Chapter Three hundred and twenty-five: Sea of Amber
Chapter Three hundred and twenty-six: Pink sparkly pen
Chapter Three hundred and twenty-seven: Protected
Chapter Three hundred and twenty-eight: Sun and Earth
Chapter Three hundred and twenty-nine: Fire
Chapter Three hundred and thirty: The serpent returns
Glossary of Characters
Chapter Three hundred and four
Coffee Cup
Tuesday morning — 6:25 a.m.
Yvonne touched Rodney’s shoulder, and he looked up at her. She held out a Styrofoam cup of coffee to him. He took it from her and went back to staring at the wall in front of him. She smiled, kissed his cheek , and sat down in a cloth-covered metal chair next to him.
“Do you want to talk?” Yvonne asked.
He looked at her and gave a slow shake of his head. They were sitting in the waiting room of the animal hospital while Mr. Chesterfield was in emergency surgery.
“That usually means you need to talk,” Yvonne said.
“Oh yeah?” Rodney asked in an amused voice.
She smiled at him and took Jabari’s favorite soft elephant out of her purse. Rodney noticed the toy and nodded. She rubbed the elephant’s big floppy ears and let the silence drag. He sniffed and gulped down the tepid coffee.
“That’s disgusting,” he said.
“Worse than prison?” Yvonne asked.
“Yes, actually.”
He snorted something like a laugh, and she laughed. Her laugh always sounded to him like the tinkling of bells. He glanced at her. Even in moments like this, or maybe especially in desperate moments like this, he liked to just look at her. Her smile always made him feel like there was hope. His lips went up in something like a smile before he turned to stare into space again.
“I’d be happy to go find out . . .” she started.
He slipped his hand through her elbow and held on tight.
“Don’t,” he said.
She smiled, and they sat in silence. Sam Lipson came in with DeShawn. Sam checked in with Rodney and Yvonne before talking to the woman at the desk.
“Any word on Jabari?” Rodney asked DeShawn.
DeShawn shook his head. Rodney nodded. Sam came back from the desk.
“What did the police say?” Yvonne asked Sam.
“Someone tampered with the alarm,” Sam said. “It looks like they planned it well in advance. The police think it’s possible they were there when you got home.”
Sam raised his eyebrows as if to ask the question, and Rodney shrugged.
“If it was so well planned, why didn’t they expect Mr. Chesterfield?” Yvonne asked. “That dog has barely left the boy’s side since he arrived!”
“No one knows,” Sam said.
“And Jake?” Rodney asked. “What does he say?”
Sam furrowed his brow and gave a vague nod. Rodney sighed.
“How is Mr. Chesterfield?” DeShawn asked.
“We don’t know,” Yvonne said. “One of those nice policemen rushed him over here with the siren on. The doctor was waiting for us. ”
“He’s been back there since we got here,” Rodney said. “We don’t know about the boy. We don’t know about….”
Rodney completed the sentence with a sniff. Sam sat down next to Rodney, and DeShawn went to the coffee pot.
“How does this happen?” Rodney asked.
“I don’t know,” Sam said.
“This type of thing…” Rodney spit out. “It’s so foul, so horrible… Steal a boy, beat a dog, . . .”
“Who does that kind of thing?” Yvonne shook her head for emphasis.
Sam nodded.
“Bumpy and Dionne are with Jeraine and Tanesha,” Sam said. “No one really knows what to say…. Or do.”
Rodney nodded. They
lapsed into silence. DeShawn came back with a few Styrofoam cups full of coffee. Sam took one, but Rodney and Yvonne declined with a rueful shake of their heads. Sam took a drink from the cup, scowled at the liquid inside, and set it down on the floor next to his chair.
“You think Annette’s behind this?” Sam asked as he cleared his throat.
“Who else?” Rodney asked.
Sam nodded. With nothing else to say, the room filled with silence again. Time lagged. A half hour became an hour. The day began to warm up outside, and people arrived to start their day at the veterinary clinic. The veterinarian came out from the back in a long, blue paper gown.
“Mr. Smith?” the veterinarian said.
~~~~~~~~
Tuesday morning — 8:25 a.m.
“That was nice of you to make Miss T go to school,” Dionne said to Jeraine as she walked into his living room from the kitchen.
She held out a mug with a huge yellow smiley face. Jeraine looked at the mug. His old Ecstasy supplier had given him the mug to advertise his product. Tanesha had packed the mug up in a box with his “drug things.” She’d told him to throw it out, but he hadn’t gotten around to it.
Clearly, his mother had been busy unpacking boxes today. Dionne raised an eyebrow to encourage him to take the coffee. He took the mug and looked inside.
Coffee with a little cream.
He set the mug on the coffee table and looked up at her.
“Miss T?” Dionne asked.
“Oh,” Jeraine said. “We don’t know anything, so she may as well go.”
Jeraine nodded to reassure himself. Dionne sat down next to him on the couch.
“It was nice of you,” Dionne said.
Jeraine picked up the mug of coffee and took a drink. He smiled. His mother made a good cup of coffee. She took his smile as a compliment and smiled in return. The moment passed, and their smiles faded.
“Listen . . .” Dionne started at the same moment Jeraine said, “Schmidty . . .”
Jeraine smiled and nodded to let her talk.
“I was going to say that we will find the boy,” Dionne said.
“I . . .” Jeraine gave a slight shrug and looked away.
“What is it, son?” Dionne asked.
“I haven’t even known him,” Jeraine said. “All this time. He was just . . . something that belonged to me, not a real person, a real boy, not my boy. Then, WHAM!”
Jeraine smashed his hands together. His motion tipped the yellow smiley mug, and coffee splashed onto his mother’s arms. She smiled and got up to get a towel. When she’d returned, Jeraine had retreated into silence. She mopped up the coffee from the table and held the towel out to him. He took it from her and set it on his knees.
Dionne picked up the smiley mug and disappeared into the kitchen. She returned with the mug refilled with coffee and set it back onto the coffee table. She sat down next to him. He drank the coffee for a moment.
“Then wham,” Jeraine said in a soft voice. “He’s here and amazing. I . . .”
Dionne put her arm around her son as if to protect him from the demons she knew lived inside his head.
“Are you thinking of using?” Dionne asked.
“Sure.”
Dionne sniffed her surprise at his honesty. She looked at him, and he shrugged.
“I’m always thinking about using,” Jeraine said. “Just an old solution to a new problem.”
Dionne shook him a little, and he smiled. There was a noise at the door, and Schmidty came into the house. Jeraine’s agent and attorney caught sight of the yellow smiley face mug on the coffee table and stopped short. He gave Jeraine a hard look and picked up the mug. Without saying a word, he took a sip of coffee.
“You make the best coffee, Mrs. Wilson,” Schmidty said with a smile.
“Would you like a cup of your own?” Dionne asked.
“No,” Schmidty said. “I’ll take this one.”
Schmidty gave her a smile and walked the offending mug back into the kitchen. They heard the water in the kitchen come on and the cabinet open. Schmidty returned with a mug of coffee from Tanesha’s collection. He set the new mug in the place of the old mug.
“Is there something wrong with that mug?” Dionne asked.
“It’s a gift from his MDMA dealer.” Schmidty nodded to Jeraine.
“And you didn’t get rid of it?” Dionne shook her head at Jeraine. “Miss T is going to . . .”
Jeraine raised his hands as if he surrendered, and Dionne chuckled.
“You are your father’s son,” Dionne said.
“I am that.” Jeraine smiled. He picked up the fresh mug of coffee, and said, “You forgot the cream.”
Schmidty laughed, and Jeraine smiled.
“What do you know?” Jeraine asked.
“The minor Jabari Wilson was taken into protective custody by Atlanta Child Protective Services this morning,” Schmidty said.
“What?” Jeraine said. He and his mother sat up straight.
“The Atlanta Family Court has petitioned Denver Family Court for records,” Schmidty said. “Atlanta is saying they are taking jurisdiction.”
“Where is my son?” Jeraine asked.
“He’s in Atlanta General,” Schmidty said. “The stress of last night seems to have caused some kind of relapse.”
“Or?” Dionne asked. “I know that look, Schmidty Junior. Your father always had it when there was an ‘or.’”
“He was drugged,” Schmidty said. “And that caused some kind of relapse.”
“How did my son get to Atlanta?” Jeraine asked.
“Would you like to see what Annette says?” Schmidty asked. He nodded toward the television. “She’s explaining everything to Good Day Atlanta right now.”
“I don’t want to see that.” Jeraine shook his head. “What does she say?”
“She says that she received a call from you last night,” Schmidty said. “You supposedly told her that you wanted a healthy child. You didn’t want to deal with a sick child. If she wanted him, she could have him. Did you speak with Annette last night around nine?”
“No,” Jeraine said. “I picked Miss T up from school and we went to a crazy party at her friend Heather’s mother’s house. Miss T’s parents were there with Jabari. They left early because the boy was tired. We went back inside a little while later. We didn’t get home until late.”
“And Annette?” Schmidty asked.
“I didn’t speak with her,” Jabari said. “I haven’t spoken with her directly since you told me not to after Yvonne found Jabari.”
“That’s what I told them,” Schmidty said.
“But?”
“She has a phone record showing that someone from your home phone number called her cell last night,” Schmidty said.
“We weren’t home,” Jeraine said.
“She has a tape,” Schmidty said.
“She hired someone who sounded like me to make that call,” Jeraine said. He pointed to the phone sitting on a table in the hallway. “From that phone.”
“It’s likely.” Schmidty nodded.
“What is she doing?” Dionne asked. “She doesn’t want the child. She told me she didn’t want the child.”
“She put him on a plane without a care for what happened to . . .” Jeraine swallowed back Jabari’s name, “ . . . my son.”
“She claims to be a pawn in some game you’re playing,” Schmidty said. “After all, you’re the drugged out pop star and she’s just the baby-momma.”
“She works for me,” Jeraine mumbled.
“What?” Dionne asked. She turned to look at Jeraine.
“It’s something she says,” Schmidty said. “She works for Jeraine. She’s his slave. He tricked her into getting pregnant and then abandoned her at the altar for Miss T. Jeraine’s strung her along because he’s a control freak.”
“I hold all the cards because I hold the money,” Jeraine said.
Dionne sniffed with anger. She picked up Jeraine’s mug of co
ffee and drank it down. They sat in a kind of stunned silence.
“Why now?” Dionne asked. “She stopped coming to the custody hearings in Denver the moment the judge kicked out the cameras. Why is she doing this, Schmidty? It makes no sense.”
Schmidty nodded. Jeraine cleared his throat. His mother and Schmidty turned to look at him.
“She gave DNA yesterday,” Jeraine said.
Dionne gawked at him, and Schmidty nodded.
“Did she give a sample yesterday?” Dionne asked.
“I believe so,” Schmidty said. “Let me check.”
Schmidty got out his phone and placed a call. He turned his back to them and spoke in quiet tones on the telephone. When he turned around, he clicked off the call and tucked the phone into his pocket.
“She fulfilled her subpoena yesterday morning,” Schmidty said. “The DNA evidence is already on its way to be tested. But . . .”
Schmidty nodded.
“But?” Dionne asked.
“Her doctor’s office was broken into last night,” Schmidty said. “All outgoing mail and samples were stolen.”
“Including Annette’s?” Dionne asked.
Schmidty shook his head.
“What?” Jeraine asked.
“I had her sample picked up the moment she gave it,” Schmidty said. “It arrived at the lab this morning. I have the receipt right here.”
Schmidty took out his phone and tapped around for a moment until an email from FedEx came up on the screen. Schmidty smiled.
“I guess that’s something.” Jeraine shrugged.
“All of this is to cover up the fact that she’s not Jabari’s mother?” Dionne asked.
“We knew that,” Jeraine said.
“What it means is that this situation will be resolved,” Schmidty said. “What it means is that this is a legal matter to be handled by your attorneys.”
Fort Lupton Page 1
