Connection Terminated

by Edward Hancock II

  “See, that’s another thing. You’ve got a whole family to lead for God. I’ve got, well, I’ve got me.”

  “All the more reason for you to believe, Danny.”

  Danny said nothing. Merely cocked a confused eyebrow.

  “Look, I’m a father and husband. True. And if I want them to make it to the Heaven in which I believe, I’ve got to take the lead. The faith lead. I believe in strong women. My mother was a strong woman and saw to it we went to Mass. When I see Lisa’s strength, it doesn’t intimidate me. It honors me, because we’re on the same path. She adds her strength to me, and I do likewise, I hope. And the one mutual thing we both have is our children. If I don’t show them the way, they’ll not learn it from this world. But you don’t have the stress of having to lead a wife or a child. You have you. You have to save you for you. And then you can be the light that leads others.”

  “Oh, I see what you’re trying to do. Alex, I don’t want to—“

  “Danny, look, I’m not trying to convert you or whatever. I’m trying to open the door to you. That’s it. You are my family too. You’re as much a brother to me as Ted ever was. Truthfully, I’ve known you longer than I did my own flesh and blood. So, in a way, you’re one more reason for me to do this, Boss. You’re welcome in God’s family. And contrary to what you think, the Bible says where sin abounds grace abounds all the more. You know, this case has me thinking a lot about that verse, actually. This killer seems to think he’s doing God’s work. But he obviously doesn’t read from the same Bible I read. The one where Jesus pardoned sinners and told the church people to let the sinless one throw the first stone. This guy seems to be throwing a lot of stones and that, in and of itself, is going to be his undoing. I don’t know why God has delivered this evil into my hands, but rest assured I will use every power at my disposal – legal and spiritual – to show this guy the error of his ways.”

  “I love you, sometimes.” Danny laughed.

  Alex smiled, “Love you too, Bud.”

  “Okay, so tell me more about this guy. Maybe we can nail his hide to the wall and let every prostitute and stripper in East Texas stone this sucker to death.”

  Maybe not, Alex thought, but at least your mind’s back in the game, my friend.

  Several hours and a phone call from Lisa later, dusk was starting to take hold of the East Texas sky.

  “You’ll catch him.” Danny said, as Alex bent down to hug him goodbye.

  “And you’ll be back in your Captain’s chair.”

  He hoped.

  Chapter 8

  Wednesday, October 12

  8:30 p.m.

  “And God bless Brandy and, oh yeah, Baby Joey too. Amen.”

  As Christina crawled into bed, Alex found himself amazed at the big girl that was his daughter. He never really understood how people said it felt like they blinked and their child grew up, but that is how he felt. With every passing day, she seemed to age another year.

  Lost in his lament, he bent down and hugged her.

  “Nice of you to think about your little brother, there, Baby,” he joked, causing Christina to giggle.

  “Daddy?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “How come you’re a policeman?”

  “Well, because,” he paused, not really sure how best to put it in five-year-old terms.

  Outside, a branch ticked against Christina’s window, urging him toward some unknown statute of limitations for answering her question.

  “Your daddy is a policeman because he wants to keep the world safe for all the little boys and girls.” Lisa interjected. She moved up behind him and wrapped her hands around his neck, kneeling to kiss him on his cheek. “And your daddy is very good at his job.”

  Walking around Alex, Lisa bent down to tuck Christina in. Alex stood back just as Lisa kissed Christina on the cheek.

  “How come you’re not a policeman anymore, Mommy?”

  “Well,” Lisa said, “I’m a busy Mommy. I have you to take care of and Baby Joey. I’m still a policeman. I just have fewer people to care for.”

  “Good answer,” Alex whispered, stifling the urge to chuckle.

  “How come God lets bad people live? Can’t he just kill ‘em and let only good people live?”

  Lisa pursed her lips and looked back toward Alex. He just shrugged and bent down next to the bed.

  “He probably could,” Alex admitted, “But then Daddy would be out of a job.” He finished by tickling her.

  Still giggling, she pressed her tiny fingers against Alex’s cheeks and pulled his face toward hers until they were forehead to forehead.

  “You only have one eye, Daddy.”

  “Wow!” he said, not moving, “You only have one eye too! What are we gonna do?”

  She giggled again and Alex pulled back.

  “Oh! There it is! Now you have two eyes!”

  “Okay you two,” Lisa said, “Now that we’ve found our eyes, I know a certain baby girl that needs to close hers and go to sleep.”

  Taking Alex by the hand, Lisa walked toward the hall.

  “Mommy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I love Baby Joey. I’m sorry I prayed for him last.”

  “It’s okay,” Lisa said, obviously trying not to laugh. “At least he made the list. Now go to sleep, Sweetheart.”

  “I love you, Mommy. And I love you, Daddy.”

  “I love you, too,” they responded in chorus.

  Walking down the hall, toward their bedroom, Lisa sighed.

  “Something on your mind, my dearest?” Alex asked.

  “Just glad you’re home. It’s been a long day.”

  “I know. And after we’ve had our showers, you can tell me all about it.”

  “You go first,” Lisa said. “I want to check on Joey real quick.”

  Stopping at the entrance to their bedroom, he pulled Lisa close.

  “Did you know that I am helplessly, hopelessly, completely, entirely, wholeheartedly, madly in love with you?”

  She kissed him gently on the lips.

  “Too many adverbs, Babe,” she whispered. “Just tell me I rock. Kiss it. Keep It Short and Simple.”

  “I’d rather just kiss you again.” Alex said, planting a deep kiss on her lips.

  As they broke, he noticed a slight flush rising in Lisa’s face.

  “Okay, all that stuff you said? Ditto. Now go shower, before I forget what I was about to do.”

  “What were you about to do?” Alex asked.

  “Hmmm…” she said, feigning forgetfulness, “now that you mention it.”

  Lisa let go a startled yelp, kicking her leg in the air. She turned, just as Alex looked down at the mischievous grin of his four-legged child.

  Grinning, Alex bent down. “What did you do to your mama?”

  “Your furry daughter has a cold, wet nose, Alex Mendez.”

  As her breathy laugh echoed through the hallway, Lisa turned and walked toward Joey’s room.

  Petting her head, Alex smiled. “Way to ruin Dad’s moment, kiddo. It’s a good thing I love you. You know that right?”

  Brandy sneezed.

  “I’ll take that as a yes. Now, off to bed with you too, young lady.”

  He walked her toward Christina’s room. Obediently, she hopped onto the bed. Christina stirred, but was already too far gone to wake from the journey toward dream land.

  Standing in the shower a few minutes later, Alex had no problems. He gave passing thoughts to the case, but suddenly found himself more than willing to play second fiddle to Josh Sutton, FBI.

  He thought about the conversation he’d had with Danny. He knew that the whole shooting had scared Danny. It had scared him too. But to hear Danny speak of quitting unnerved Alex more than usual. He’d spoken of it before. Danny had aged way before his time. But something about this time sounded more resolute. More real. As Alex turned the faucet to full blast, he found himself just praying that the water would somehow beat some sense into him. Sense, courage and a wh
ole lot of ability he did not feel he had.

  I can deal with being Captain Alex, he thought to himself. But I can’t deal with this.

  As he closed his eyes, the voice of Pastor Highland reached out of the past and grabbed hold of him. He did feel like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. But, in a very real way, he was truly starting to understand what it meant to turn things over to God.

  “Let go and let God,” he whispered to himself. “Let go and let God.”

  As understanding turned to fear, which turned to hope, which turned to uncertainty, which turned to confusion, Alex began to pray. Not for himself, his home or his children. Without knowing what he really wanted to say, only that he wanted to say something, Alex began to pray for his best friend.

  “Heavenly Father,” he whispered, “Danny needs you…”

  Chapter 9

  Thursday, October 13

  8:54 a.m.

  “Five minutes, Alex.”

  The chief’s voice startled him back to reality. It wasn’t his first press conference since becoming acting head of homicide; and he was quick to use the word “Acting” when introducing himself. To remind them that his position was temporary, asking every reporter each time to be sure to include Captain Danny Peterson in the nightly prayer ritual.

  “You have your statement ready?” Lisa asked, straightening his tie one last time.

  Even though she would not be the one speaking today, she looked nothing short of gorgeous in her Navy suit. She was a fusion of eras, seemingly grasping from the most gorgeous of history’s famed femmes. She was, in Alex’s eyes, one box hat away from invoking the spirits of Patricia Connelly and Jackie Kennedy to go with the stylistic phenoms of later times.

  “Nah,” he chuckled, “I figure I’ll just wing it.”

  Wrapping him on his shirt collars, Lisa huffed.

  “Don’t worry, Babe,” he said, hugging her. “I got this.”

  “You sound so confident,” she joked.

  “This one’s tough,” he admitted, sitting in a black folding chair in the middle of the otherwise empty room.

  The City Government Complex building had many modern amenities that even the relatively new police station hadn’t included. Looking around the barren waiting room, going over his notes in his head, Alex couldn’t help but wonder how it was that a building that included self-flushing toilets could somehow not find a few extra dollars to make the waiting room more inviting.

  “You check on the kids?” he asked, trying to distract himself.

  “They’re fine, Alex.” She grabbed his shoulders and started rubbing.

  Tilting his head back, Alex let out a deep breath. “I’ll give you exactly one hour to stop that.”

  A rap on the door prevented her from answering.

  “You ready, Alex?”

  “Ready, Chief.”

  Kissing Alex on the cheek, Lisa whispered, “Go get ‘em, Hero.”

  “Love you, Babe.”

  “Back at you.”

  Walking into the hall, Alex smelled fresh paint. He hadn’t noticed the smell when he arrived, so he wondered if maybe they’d been doing some work when he wasn’t watching. As the hallway narrowed, funneling him toward the open auditorium where he would apprise the public of the situation and the danger thereof, Alex had to resist the pubescent urge to reach out and touch the wall.

  “Have they painted recently?” he whispered, as Kellan entered from the auditorium.

  “I dunno. Touch it and see if it’s wet.”

  He laughed.

  “Boys,” Chief Steelman said, “Am I going to have to separate you two?”

  “Yes, Dad.” Alex chuckled.

  “Are we there yet?” Kellan chimed in, grinning playfully.

  “Don’t make me pull over. I’ll turn this press conference around, I swear!” The chief joked.

  “Oh, please do!” Alex winked.

  “Ha! You don’t get off that easy, Alex.”

  As they reached the threshold, Alex was stricken with powerful nervousness. The room was not huge by any means. The capacity was approximately 50 people and up to 6 news teams. It had never been full. In fact, Alex could not remember even seeing it more than three-fourths full.

  “It’s real simple,” the chief said, stepping out of the line of site. “I’ll go first and won’t take any questions. I’ll speak, then introduce you and Kellan. Alex, you’ll speak and introduce Josh Sutton who is already seated next to the mayor and city council. After that, we open the floor to questions. Kellan, as Alex’s named second, be ready for them to hit you too. You may not have a speaking role, but you’ve seen as much of this as anyone.”

  “I’m with you, Chief.” Kellan said. “We got this.”

  As the applause rose in the auditorium, Chief Steelman gave them one last inspection.

  “Lookin’ good, boys. That’s our cue.”

  Chapter 10

  Thursday, October 13

  9:48 a.m.

  The speeches went by rather quickly. The crowd, comprised of both reporters and local citizens, followed the instructions to hold all questions until everyone spoke.

  The Chief was good at directing traffic, allowing each television station one question before getting to the citizenry.

  When Gabby Halloway from Channel 3 tried to ask a follow-up question, Chief Steelman quickly rebuked her, stating that each station would get more chances after the citizenry had an opportunity to have questions and concerns met.

  A large man with a potbelly stood and approached the podium set up for citizens to ask their questions in an orderly fashion. He didn’t seem dressed for a press conference. His tattered Houston Oilers cap, muddy Wranglers and worn out work boots suggested an oilfield existence.

  “Sir, My name’s Melvin Bowers. This guy’s attacking young girls. I got a daughter goin’ to Kilgore College. How am I to know she’s safe?”

  Alex, Chief Steelman and Josh Sutton all traded looks. Finally, Josh nodded and approached the microphone.

  “Sir, I’m FBI Agent Josh Sutton. I assure you that we are working with the Longview PD to find the person responsible for this awful crime. As of now, there have been no attacks in the Kilgore area, but I would advise your daughter to not pick up any strange people. I know society wants us to believe the good in everyone and be a Samaritan, but at this time, I would advise caution. East Texas is a close-knit collection of communities. I would advise everyone to stay vigilant.”

  “I’d also like to add,” The chief interrupted, “if your daughter sees anything suspicious, she should notify the local authorities, whether that be the campus police or the city. It is best for everyone, but particularly women, to travel in groups. No one should travel very far alone, especially at night. With all due respect to you lovely ladies in here, if you have to travel at night, travel with numbers, as our killer seems to be targeting women. To address your question more directly, it is best for your daughter to use her best judgment and first speak with the school regarding security issues.”

  The man nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. As he returned to his seat, a young black woman in a deep purple and black business suit approached the microphone.

  “Shanda Ward. I just want to know is there any ethnic or racial connection to the attacks? Who is the guy targeting?”

  “With all due respect, Ms. Ward,” The Chief continued, “What we can tell you is that he seems to be targeting women at this time. We cannot assume that he’s targeting one race more than another. I would advise the same caution for you as for a Hispanic woman or a woman of any other ethnic, racial or religious background.”

  “Understand,” Alex said, as the chief stepped back, “we have to maintain the integrity of the investigation, so there is a lot we cannot say. But until we catch the person behind this, we have to advise everyone to be safe.”

  After a brief pause, no more citizens approached the mic.

  “Any more questions from the public? If not, I’ll turn the f
loor over to the reporters again.”

  The chief paused to give people time to get to the microphone.

  “Okay,” the chief said, when no one else asked questions. “Ms. Halloway, I’ll let you have the first question.”

  Gabby Halloway stood up. She was a strikingly beautiful Hispanic woman whose waist-length hair was more reminiscent of Pocahontas than of her Hispanic roots. Alex knew her reasonably well, which is to say he didn’t know her maiden name, but he was aware of the fact she married into money and did not need to work as a newsperson. She worked because she loved the news. While Alex had more respect for her than most reporters, she’d been in the business long enough to feel the effects of the tabloid journalism era plaguing newsrooms all across the country. She was good, no doubt. But she could be a bulldog.

  “Sir, you didn’t say, but the rumor is that the killer seems to be targeting strippers and/or possibly prostitutes. Can you comment on that? It seems that, if the killer is targeting this specific demographic that most of the rest of us would have little to fear.”

  Alex noticed a slight redness rising in the chief’s face.

  “Ma’am,” Alex said, allowing the chief to compose himself, “What we can tell you now is that it appears the person is targeting women. To be safe, we have to advise all women, regardless of your profession, ethnicity or any other demographic to exercise caution. Killers change their M.O. all the time. He could target basketball players tomorrow and change to news reporters next week. I don’t want to be bent over your dead body, Ms. Halloway. I don’t think anyone would want that.”

  As Gabby Halloway sat down, Jennifer Greyson from Channel 7 stood up.