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 [F] Mystery Net Community  / Writing Mysteries  / Mysteries By Members  / Short Mysteries  /

"Justice" (sequel to "Baby Be Mine")

Previous MessagesEarliest MessagesOutlineRecent Messages (2 previous messages)
Kermit Fog - 08:12pm May 19, 2010 PST(#3 of 5)
"I guess I was wrong when I said I never promised anyone. I promised me." -- Kermit the Frog

“Oh, you’re all right.” She pulled a cigarette box from her apron pocket and tapped it against her wrist. “Got a light, Officer....?”

“Callahan. Callin Callahan.” He pulled a Bic from his pocket and passed it to her.

“Rae Grant. Thanks. Left mine in the kitchen.” He watched her skinny fingers, trembling slightly as she flicked on a flame. She stuck the cigarette deep into her mouth, puffed, and then blew out a thick cloud of smoke, swirling in a hazy sun-tinted orange as the breeze quickly blew it away. “Callin...” She rolled the name around on her tongue and pinched her eyebrows together. “You know, I think that’s what Michael, my brother you look like, that’s what he wanted to name his first son--Callin. Cute name...”

He swallowed hard and downed the rest of his drink in two long gulps. Michael Grant?

“You sure you’ve never been to Chicago?”

“Nope, never have,” he said. “Never been north of Tennessee, actually. My mother used to live there, though... But that was a long time ago.” He finished quickly.

“Ah, well, I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.” She patted his hand again and smiled, pushing herself up off her chair. “Lemme see if your flapjacks are done, Sugar.”

He watched her again, unable to pull his eyes away as she retreated to the kitchen. It couldn’t be. No. Get it out of your mind, Callahan, get it out and you know your mother better than that.

He sighed again. Did he really? Did he really know her at all? She always cried, big red tears, whenever he asked about his father. And the pictures... There’s no pictures in the photo albums of when she lived in Chicago. But... But... But, it’s just a coincidence, that’s all.

He stood from the table and tucked the newspaper under his arm. Fishing the wallet from his back pocket, he laid a twenty on the table, sticking it under his glass so it wouldn’t blow away. He took one glance, one swift glance back at the kitchen, and strolled quickly away, his shoes pounding hollow on the wooden boardwalk as he left the café behind him.

Kermit Fog - 08:13pm May 19, 2010 PST(#4 of 5)
"I guess I was wrong when I said I never promised anyone. I promised me." -- Kermit the Frog

The name bounced through his head with each heavy step. Grant. Grant. Michael Grant. The name on the birth certificate Mama never meant for him to see. The only clue he had to his father’s identity, a shameful moniker scrawled on a piece of paper and stuffed in a shoebox deep in the closet where he was never supposed to be looking.

It was long after he had learned to stop asking about his father when he found it, and he never said anything, never let himself think about it again. Until now.

The breeze did not reach far inland and the sidestreets were already growing muggy. Humidity, even in February, was the price of living in southern Florida, and he was used to it, but today it made him feel nauseated. He was sick to his stomach and wanted cool, clean air to breathe. But there was none.

He absently fingered the badge on his chest, running his fingertips over the gold lettering. He would be promoted to Detective by summer, they said. He was a good cop, always did the right thing and it was refreshing to see such young enthusiasm in the force.

He thought about the father that he never knew. About all the family stories the other cops had and shared, the boyhood memories that were simply an empty hole in his head. He thought about Rae and her sweet smile and how she would be bringing out his pancakes and eggs just about now and she’d wonder where he went.

And he thought about his mother, sitting in her little shop, arranging carnations and baby’s breath, spending all day there because she says that’s what makes her happy. He thought about her frail pink skin and her sunken eyes and her nimble fingers that could still make a champion pecan pie on his birthday. He tried not to think about her as the woman Rae had so coolly described, but as the mother he knew and the mother he loved and the mother who deep down was still the same as she always was, right?

He paused for a moment, looking up at the edifice that rose before him. It was one of the oldest buildings downtown, dark red brick and mildewed mortar. The steps were cracked and crumbled a little, but still jutted proudly from the pavement and cast short shadows down the sidewalk. He sighed and stepped inside, willing himself to do it before he changed his mind.

“May I help you, sir?”

The air in the building was cool and the lights were low and it would have been almost comfortable in any other situation. He scratched his short blond hair and blinked at the receptionist. “Yes, I need your cheapest pair of one-way tickets to Canada.” Mama always wanted to visit Canada. Surely they could use florists up there just as well.

As the receptionist turned to face the computer he sighed, reached up slowly, and with thick fingers unpinned the badge from his shirt and stuck it in his pocket.

Fran Hinkel - 04:42am May 20, 2010 PST(#5 of 5)
You can check out anytime you like...but you can never leave!

Oh, Bravo! I loved it Kermie. I wonder if she really did kill him, lol.

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 [F] Mystery Net Community  / Writing Mysteries  / Mysteries By Members  / Short Mysteries  / "Justice" (sequel to "Baby Be Mine")

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