by Steven Swaks
“Larry?”
Cool air enveloped her body. She clasped her robe against her and peered through the modern kitchen. A mini-blind was tapping against an open glass door.
“What are you doing on the deck, Larry?” Deborah slid the door open.
“Larry?” Her eyes adjusted in the ominous darkness.
Deborah Cherlin did not see anything of value at first, only a few wooden chairs around a patio table and an outdoor sofa set.
Something was odd on her right, a tall mass in the darkness. She stepped toward it, her heart rate increasing with each step. Her breathing shallowed. The mass became a clear shape beneath a tall oak tree.
She gasped at the sight. Larry Cherlin, her husband of eighteen years, was dangling at the end of a rope.
She froze. The gruesome sight was in front of her, but it didn’t register for a moment. She stood on the cold deck, alone. Larry was dead.
She turned around and found a phone in the kitchen. She was surprisingly calm. Her fingers skimmed through the numbers to dial 911, as if it was a call to her beauty salon. She told the operator what she had found and gave her address. Funny, she thought they could read it on their computer.
The dispatcher mumbled instructions, but Deborah didn’t understand a word. She glanced around her, but she couldn’t focus on anything. Her husband was outside dangling at the end of a rope. The children were sleeping upstairs. The colors melted around her. The kitchen became a sickening blur. She closed her eyes and clutched the countertop. Her knees gave, suddenly unable to carry her weight. She dissolved onto the kitchen floor, breaking into an uncontrollable sob. She gasped for air. She could not scream, the children, upstairs. Could not scream. No screaming, do not wake up the kids, she could not. Be quiet.
Somebody rang the doorbell.
Deborah Cherlin gazed at the door with the eyes of a hunted animal. A mesh of her curly hair fell onto her sweaty forehead. Panting, she stood up, and headed to the front door.
She opened.
Two police officers, a man and a woman, stood in front of her, flashlights in hand.
“Mrs. Cherlin?”
She nodded.
“You called?”
She nodded again.
“Where is your husband?”
“He’s on the deck,” she looked over her shoulder, “He’s deeeeaaaad!” She screamed in a long and slow complaint like a wounded animal. Her knees weakened again.
The female officer caught her as she went down onto the tile floor.
“Go check it out,” the seasoned woman said, “I’ll stay with her.”
The junior officer entered the deck, shining his powerful flashlight around. He stopped the light beam on the body, his first hanging. The young officer stared for a moment, unable to move, horrified and fascinated.
He retreated back inside.
“Did you find him?” the senior officer asked.
“Yes,” he answered with a pale face, and shook his head to confirm the man was deceased.
Engine 63 and Medic 62 were the next ones on the scene. The firefighters stood back while the paramedics confirmed the death. It didn’t take much to figure it out. His neck was forming a strange angle after snapping at the end of a short fall.
Detective Delano was the last one to arrive. The scene reminded him of his cop time in L.A. in the Hollywood Hills. There was the same trophy wife sobbing on the couch, in the same luxury home. The view was different, not as grand as the endless spread of lighted streets and boulevards in SoCal.
A female officer was next to the wife. Another cop was standing guard at the door. A high-profile hanging on the hill was not a common occurrence in town. The local paper would have a field day in the morning. Two medics were in the kitchen packing up their equipment.
“Dead?” Delano asked.
One of the paramedics nodded. “Was instantaneous. His neck snapped from the fall. He probably climbed on the tree and jumped over the deck. He could have jumped away from the deck. That would have been nicer for the wife.”
“Maybe he was pissed at her, and he wanted her to find him like that. Who knows?" The Detective entered the deck area and stood in front of the body. Three dead bodies in a week, that was without counting the other three in the traffic collision. Not bad, especially for a small town. He shined his light from Cherlin’s hanging body all the way down to his feet. The details could have been gruesome for the layman, but it didn’t bother him. There was nothing he had never seen before.
His light followed the rope to the anchor point on a thick branch. The man really wanted to die. He hadn’t even trusted the rod iron railing to do the trick.
Delano went back inside to interview the spouse. She was still on the couch, more prostrate than sobbing.
Delano walked to Deborah Cherlin.
“May I?” He asked, pointing at the armchair next to the couch where she was seated with the female officer.
She nodded without speaking.
“I’m Detective Frank Delano, Stone Falls PD, I am sorry for your loss.”
She nodded without looking at him.
“I understand you have children upstairs?” He asked and looked at the officer for an answer.
“A neighbor is with them.”
“Make sure they don’t go on the deck.”
The officer showed an affirmative answer with a quick nod.
“Mrs. Cherlin, I would hate to bother you in these difficult times, but are you able to answer a few questions?”
She wiped her nose. “I can try.”
“Do you know anything that could explain your husband’s act tonight?”
She shook her head.
“Was he depressed?”
“No…”
“Did he have any problems at work?”
“No… his business was doing well…”
“Did he receive any threat of any kind?” His hand was wind milling.
“No, nothing that I know of.”
“Any financial issues, perhaps?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Has he said anything peculiar in the last few days? Or did he change his habits?”
“No, he was the same as usual.”
“Did you have a fight tonight?”
“Nooooo, he was great. I told you, nothing happened!”
“Why didn’t you try to cut the rope to save him?”
The woman glared at him.
“Save him?” Her face contorted. “Did you take a good look at him? He broke his neck! He’d peed in his pants! He was dead!” She resumed her sobbing.
Delano took his wallet out of his back pocket as he stood up. “Here’s my card, Mrs. Cherlin. I would like to talk to you in a day or two.”
She looked up.
“Again, I am very sorry for your loss.” Detective Delano walked out of the house, lost in his thoughts about the apparent suicide.
Sergeant Berkley was by his cruiser. “What’s on your mind? Are you suspecting foul play?”
“Nah, the guy was much too big for her, and even with help she wouldn’t have done it with her kids in the house. If we dig a little, I bet you we’re going to find out that his business wasn’t doing so hot. Maybe he had lost his money gambling, and the wife was the last one to know about it. Who knows?”
“Something’s bugging you,” Berkley said looking right at him.
Delano leaned against the sergeant’s cruiser for a second and stood right back up.
“Do you want to know what’s bugging me?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“I don’t know what in the world is going on in this town. First, we have that Gina girl playing machete with her mother, then this guy. And I don’t even talk about Boyle and the grandparents. That’s six bodies in a week when we haven’t seen one in months.”
“You’re not done with what you want to say…” Berkley said.
“No, I’m not.”
Berkley stayed silent, waiting for the next remark.
&n
bsp; “I have the feeling that we haven’t seen the end of it.”
Biochem.
Jessica walked into Dina’s Diner to buy some desserts for that evening’s church gathering. She bought two pies, keeping the receipt to share the cost with the other girls.
She was already attending the college-student fellowship. She was not in college yet, but she liked their maturity. The high-school fellowship included the freshmen, which meant a discussion level of Neanderthals discovering fire, and anything beyond video games was much too deep for their limited intellects. Beside that sad fact, the college fellowship had some time dedicated by gender to avoid the awkwardness for more personal talks and sharing during Bible study.
Jessica quickly scanned through the diner to see if she knew somebody. She did. Todd was there. She didn’t know what to make of him. At first, she had disregarded him. He was a boy like any other, but now, she wasn’t so sure anymore. There was something about him, a self-confidence beneath a shy appearance and a sensitivity she hadn’t suspected the first time she had met him.
Soon, she found herself walking to his table and away from the counter and the pies. What was she doing? She was shy. She didn’t go to boys she hardly knew at restaurant tables, but there was something reassuring about him, something homey.
“Did you move here?” Jessica asked Todd, standing over his shoulder.
Startled, the young man looked up and smiled at her sight.
She looked closer at his book. “Are you still studying your biochemistry?”
“As always.”
“You shouldn’t sleep with your book at night, though.”
“I tried, but it’s not a comfortable pillow!”
They both chuckled.
“Were you off today?” She asked still standing by the table.
“No, I worked until four.”
“Do you have a class tonight?”
“Yeah, at seven.” He looked at the empty seat in front of him. “Do you want to sit?”
“Just for a minute,” she said plopping in the deep booth.
“Are you buying donuts for church?”
“No, donuts or English muffins in the morning, it’s pies in the evening!”
“Is this a church or a tea house?”
“I wonder sometimes!” She chuckled, her eyes sparkling in the late afternoon light.
“Maybe I should attend your church.”
“Maybe you should,” her smile faded.
“That would be nice.”
“Would you like to come on Sunday before the service? I could give you a tour,” she proposed in one breath.
“Are you sure? I would like that.”
“The service is at eleven. Why don’t you come at ten?”
“Is your church that big?” He said with a gleaming smile.
Her cheeks caught fire. “Uh, no, uh, if it’s too early… I understand… I was thinking… it might take time to show you around…”
“I was playing with you. I would love to go.”
“That’s it,” she stood up, “It was very nice talking to you, Mr. Todd, and I shall meet you this Sunday.” She extended her hand to shake his in a formal but playful manner.
He stood up, “Goodbye, Miss Jessica.”
“By the way, do you even know where my church is?”
“Hum,” he pursed his lips. “That’s a good question. I don’t.”
“It’s the church on Adam Boulevard, right by the park.” She took a good look at him. “It’s a little bit late to ask, but…”
“What?”
“Are you Christian?” She asked.
“I’m Buddhist.”
She gasped in surprise.
“I’m playing, I’m Christian,” he said, chuckling.
“Oh,” she relaxed her shoulders. “Now, I really have to go buy my pies. See you on Sunday!”
“Bye!”
She hummed to the counter.
“Somebody sounds cheery,” Amanda said.
“Me? Why?” She frowned.
“I don’t know…” she glanced in the direction of the young man.
Jessica started to look back but decided otherwise. “There’s nothing. He’s just a friend, that’s all.”
“Of course, and I cook healthy food,” Amanda laughed. “I tell you what; let me take a picture of you two for my wall of fame.”
“You want me to be on your customer of the month wall?”
“Of course, honey, you’re one of my favorite customers!”
“You never asked me to be on your wall,” an old man sitting at the counter with a mouth full of scrambled eggs said.
“That’s because you’re too ugly, Barney!”
The old man snickered and shoved another fork full of eggs and hash browns into his already partially filled mouth.
“Let’s go take that picture!” Amanda Walker took Jessica by the arm and dragged her to Todd’s table. “She’s back!”
Todd looked up, unable to find anything to say.
“Move, young man!” She shooed him to the back of the booth to make room.
“What are you doing?” he asked, more amused than curious.
“I’m going to take a picture of you two for my wall of fame!”
“Your wall of fame?”
“Yes, my wall over there, by the counter.”
“Sit there, honey,” she directed Jessica to the space next to Todd.
She complied.
“Come on, closer than that.” She pulled a smart phone out of her pocket and framed the picture. “Say Dina’s Diner!”
They both leaned toward each other, eyes to the camera with a sweet smile and said in unison, “Dina’s Diner!”
Amanda took two pictures. “Got it in the box! Thank you, young man. You’ve been a good sport!”
“It’s my pleasure,” Todd said with a smile.
“Let’s go back to the counter. I think you needed something before I attacked you! What am I going to get you?”
“Two sour cream cherry pies, please.”
She tapped her on the shoulder, “You’re a sweet young lady.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Walker.”
The woman slid the desserts into a box and carefully lodged it into a deep plastic bag.
Jessica paid for the pies and said goodbye. She walked to the front door with a quick glance over her shoulder.
Dispatch
Dispatch was quiet that night. Jennifer kept an uninterested eye on an ambulance coming back to a substation, the little green symbol travelling down one of the boulevards on the map. It stopped once in a while at an intersection and proceeded after a short halt at a light. One of these days, she would have a live camera in the front and back cabin of the ambulance. It was just a matter of time, and it wouldn’t matter how loudly the employees would protest. She knew it would come.
Alex was online, browsing on the console beside her. Ben was behind her, feet on a desk, flipping through a dated Emergency Medical Services magazine.
“You two aren’t very talkative tonight.”
“I guess we’re not,” Alex said without taking his eyes off the computer screen.
“Bad day?” She asked.
“Could have been better.”
“Care to tell me? Or I can just look at your call log.”
Alex spoke. “All right, five calls, two bogus, a cardiac arrest of a mother with the kids watching, and a ten-year-old girl hit by a full-sized van in front of her school–that one was medevaced by chopper. What else? Oh, how could I forget? A dad and his teenage son, burnt while working on their car. We had to drive those two to Hoover Memorial with 62. Other than that, it was a great day.”
“How did they get burnt?”
“They were working on an old Ford Mustang, I don’t know, a 1960’s model or somewhere around there. The carburetor was full of gasoline and blew up in their faces. The boy was ok with minor burns on his arms, but the dad’s face was a nice crisp. He had second and third degrees all over,” Alex ra
n his hand on his own face and chest. “Trust me, you don’t want to know the details.”
“What about the mother? The cardiac arrest, did she make it?”
“Nope. That was fun to hear the daughters telling us to save their mom. But don’t worry, I don’t feel like total crap right now.”
“I’m sorry,” Jennifer said with a crumbling look.
“It’s not your fault.”
“How old were the daughters?”
“I don’t know. Early twenties I guess.”
“What about that kid hit by the van? Is she going to make it?”
“No idea. She was in one piece with no obvious injuries besides a few lacerations, but it was all internal. The poor girl was completely unconscious. She wasn’t reactive to anything, not even to pain.”
Jennifer shook her head.
“Mister Ben over there should be happy. He wanted some action. Well, he got it.”
Ben threw his magazine across the console, “I don’t need to hear your comments, all right? Do you think I’m enjoying this?”
Alex shrugged, “I don’t know. You kept saying that you were bored. Now you have it. How did you like the cyanotic mother? Did you have a good time?”
Ben sprung out of his seat. “Do you really think I like it?”
“I do! That’s what you were asking for! Was that ten year old good enough for you?!”
“You sick bastard!” Ben lurched at Alex. He clenched his left hand on Alex’s collar and coiled his fist to hit him.
A remote control flew by itself from a desk and smashed against a wall before exploding in pieces.
The three snapped at the wall in total surprise. Ben held his fist up. Alex and Ben glanced at each other and turned to Jennifer who was still seated well away from where the remote was.
“What was that?” Jennifer slowly asked.
Ben let go of his grip.
“What’s happening?” She asked. “You two are best friends, and you’re at each other’s throats… and now…” she looked at the wall, “this.”
