Cult Killers: Dark Crime Fiction Chapter Two
Smartphone rang. It was Jason in the newsroom.
Adam gave him a condensed version of the twenty minutes he spent with Chief Doolan, and learned that while he was in there getting nothing, the TV station, had finally picked up the story and splashed it on their website, right under the story about the St.Isidore Antique Festival.
That festival should empty out the town, Adam thought with one side of his brain. If you line all the antiques on one side of the town, there would hardly be anyone left on the other side.
What is that girl doing with that guy? Adam thought with the other side of his brain. Did he just push her?
With the other side of his brain, Adam set aside the Antique Festival sarcasm just in time to realize he had run a red light and veered into oncoming traffic.
Thinking quickly with only half a mind, Adam drove the WSIR news cruiser right into the side of the historical St. Isidore Fountain.
By the time the airbag deflated and Adam regained his senses, the young woman and the man were gone. But the memory remained.
Something was not right here.
“Wrecking the news car is not a great way to finish your day,” Jason laughed as he elbowed Adam.
“It’s not a great way to finish anything,” said Adam. And so ended another day in the trenches at WSIR, St. Isidore Radio, for Adam King who was more than ready to head home.
The next day started like most days. Adam blasted out of bed when the clock radio went off jarring him from a blessed few hours in another world that was much better then the one he called home.
Adam slept to escape. He dreamt to have fun.
He learned in high school that working in radio was all inside work with no heavy lifting, and Adam was sold.
Not long after throwing off his cap and gown, putting his diploma in a box that was long forgotten, Adam enrolled in broadcasting school, ready to be a star.
He never thought his life would wind up stuck in a small town and a small town radio station doing small town things.
Adam had dreams. Adam had goals. Adam had ambition.
Nearly forty years later, he still had all three but they had been watered down with age.
Another of his dreams — one that was more focused — had come true, almost. Adam was nearly a cop.
At least he had a place on the St. Isidore Police Department. Reserve deputy, true, but still a place.
Adam might be in his fifties, but he loved to hit the siren whenever he was allowed to drive a squad car.
Still he had never earned a full-time position on the force. It wasn’t for lack of trying. Yet, even now that he was past the half-century mark Adam was ready to try again to pass that damn physical conditioning test.
Brains weren’t the problem. What Adam suffered from, and it was getting worse every year of middle-age, was a severe lack of brawn.
He just has never been able to do it.
“Never had the upper body strength to climb the rope or do even one pull-up,” muttered Chief Doolan as he watched Adam struggling one more time, one more year to make the force.
“Never gives up, you gotta give him that,” said Sgt. Paul Desmond.
“Showing up only counts for so much.”
“Remember when we put him on marine patrol?”
“And that went great for a day until we realized he couldn’t swim.”
“Guess he forgot to tell us.”
“We figured it out when we had to save him”
Optimism fading with his hairline, Adam had decided this year would be his last.
Still, Adam was not giving up his post in the reserve department.
They did let him drive prisoners to and from the courthouse in the squad car with the siren on.
However, the dream of becoming one of Swinging Izzy’s finest never left him, even as he made the one cup of coffee and two pieces of toast that he chewed, drank, and swallowed, every morning on the way out of his three-bedroom, only one, lonely-occupant house.
But, this morning, it didn’t matter how many pull-ups he could do. The dream was alive, again.
A serial killer falls for a teenage girl. She's the woman of his dreams. She doesn't want money, diamonds, or even roses.
This young lady wants murder.
He can handle that, right?
A Wicked Plan: Book 1 From the St. Isidore Collection
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the most dysfunctional town on the planet.
You'll be up all night reading, that's for sure.
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