"I don't think you should be here alone. Why don't I stay as long as you need me," I said.

"Thanks, Rick. I didn't know how to ask you. I should have known you'd know what I needed. I don't think I can be alone right now. Everything is so damn confusing. Why is this happening? Kevin never hurt anyone. He was so beautiful. Who'd want to hurt him? I saw it coming and didn't have enough sense to warn him to be careful."

"The world is a cruel place, Mike. You can't protect anyone all the time. Sooner or later you run into evil and that's what happened to Kevin. That's all."

We were all friends and ran with a group of people that was constantly in the process of change. Some people would come into the group and some people would leave, but Big Mike, Kevin, and I had been at the center since Kevin came on the scene. There were a few people that never completely disappeared and on big party nights they would show up and than go back to whatever it was they were doing the rest of the time. Big Mike was the kind of guy that anchored everyone. Just knowing he was there was a comfort of sorts. He had a real feeling for family and friends. It was a quality that I always admired since I had none of that.

While our friendship was always in place, even Big Mike and I didn't see as much of each other as we once did, but we lived in different areas now. My father had died the year before and I moved in with my mother so she wouldn't be in the house alone. I didn't give up my life or my friends for her but at least there was a warm body in my mother's home some of the time. This had changed the orbit of my life somewhat and that's why I wasn't seeing my oldest friends as often. There simply wasn't enough time in a day.

He sat speechless and the entire night was spent in the difficult silence of despair interrupted by reminiscences about Kevin. We sat in the shadow cast upon the table by the staircase that was in-between the light in the kitchen and us, after all the other lights were turned off. There was no thought of sleep or fatigue, only the weight of our loss could be felt and that weight canceled out time and space. The silence became eerie and the apartment seemed oddly out of balance with the universe.

The dawn was slow to light the room. I don't know where the night went. Perhaps it was mercifully shortened. There was nothing to do and no where to go as we listened to the car doors and the occasional conversation as people went off to work. It was like things were suspended inside the apartment walls. Natural laws and the mundane didn't apply to us that morning. Kevin's death had canceled all of those things without our knowing it. In keeping with that mood I canceled work.

I thought enough of Kevin, more precisely Big Mike, to get him a job at the construction company where I was working. While he was his usual light hearted and carefree self when he worked there, he made me uncomfortable. There was something about mixing friendship with work that made me uncomfortable. Kevin worked for my boss, as did another friend, Mike Wallace, he was glad to have them during our busy season.

They were adequate in their work but Kevin always made me uneasy. I knew he was capable of doing things innocently that would raise the ire of most of my superiors, but luckily not our boss, Mike Rawlins. Mike and I had gone to high school together, though we hardly knew one another. He was cool and I always knew what was going on. Mike appreciate both Kevin and Mike Wallace, so it worked okay for the months they were needed. I must admit I was relieved when they were gone.

When I called work that morning, I dialed right into Mike Rawlin's line. He recognized my voice immediately. He sensed there was something wrong by the sound in my voice and the fact I was always there and always on time for work. Only I wasn't there, I was on the phone.

"What's wrong, Rick."

"You remember Kevin Browning?"

"Sure! Good worker. Does he need a job? You know it's okay by me."

"He's dead, Mike."

There was a stunned silence on the other end of the phone as I knew he was measuring my words. He was waiting for me to say more, and I waited for him to respond.

"I can't come in. I'm with some friends of Kevin's and we've been up all night. We're still in shock."

"What happened?"

"He was murdered yesterday afternoon. Shot. That's all we know. We're waiting for more news now."

"Oh my god," Mike Rawlins said, still adjusting to my words, "Who would do such a thing. He was such a good kid. Do you know who did it?"

"No! We don't know anything but what I told you. We will probably find out more today when we talk to the police. I'll let you know if there is any news. I just can't come in this morning. We're pretty upset."

"Don't worry about it. I'll cover for you. Let me know when you find something out. I'll just put you on vacation until you say you're coming back."

"Thanks. I'll let you know what we find out."

Mike Rawlins was a good boss. I liked him as a person because he was a good guy. He always cut me more slack than I'd had on the job before. He never failed to be there when there was any reasonable request. I doubted if anyone would realize I wasn't there if they didn't need me for something special. I spent most of my time out of the shop and my boss was the only person I answered to and he didn't let anyone mess with me because he knew he could depend on me.

I confess that I didn't fully understand the activities that followed my phone call to work. I assumed my inability to rationalize what was taking place was part of my state of confusion and shock. The rational of Big Mike's activities never made sense to me then, and don't really make a lot of sense now. Why he was doing what he was doing baffled me, but in my respect for him I remained silent. I listened to a series of phone calls without commenting. Did he know what he was doing? He dialed each number from memory and I recognized some of the names as he talked.

I had no idea how close the murderer was. It was inconceivable that I knew anyone capable of snuffing out Kevin's life. As I listened to the phone calls, I started to hope the murderer was long gone, but I now realize that I am lucky to be alive. Kevin's murderer was so close that it was hard for me to believe it could be true when his identity was revealed to us. It was then that the waste took on an even more senseless quality. The unthinkable became reality we were forced to accept.

Big Mike's first call went to Rose. She and Fred were once neighbors and later friends, but Big Mike befriended everyone in need or that just happened to wander into range. Rose was alone with Fred and Fred was at the age he could be a handful when he wasn't being too charming for words. Big Mike helped to ease the strain on Rose and they were close from that time forward. Kevin and Fred got along well, so it worked out great.

The conversation started with a slow build up to Kevin's death. I could tell Rose took it hard because Kevin was like another son to her. Big Mike tried to console her as best he could, but it was still difficult for him to maintain any poise when he was saying the words. He then told her, he would find out who killed Kevin and that person would not live for long after that.

I knew Big Mike was Sicilian Italian and I knew the strength of family in his life. I knew he loved Kevin and that made him family. It was one of the things I admired about him, but I was questioning the logic of the statement he made. I also thought it was strongly possible the police were listening as well. When I mentioned this to him in-between calls, he knew that truth as well as I, he said. It didn't concern him because he had nothing to hide. He went from one call to the next, leaving little time for us to talk about his words. After telling of Kevin's death, it was always the threat that followed. Each call until he called his own mother ended with his pronouncement that Kevin's murderer would die at his hands as soon as possible.

He was far gentler with his mother. He first prepared her and then gave her the news. His mother had known Kevin since our first visit to Tom's River five years before. Kevin was part of the family by this time, and all of Big Mike's brothers and other relatives would call during that longest day. They each wanted to express their feelings of lose and their shock at the terrible news. The entire day was spent with the phone and the coffee and then the terrible silence. I never saw Big Mike lose control again. He was on a mission now. His life had a new purpose and only one. I could see a plan, but I didn't know what that plan was.

"You might want to go, Rick," he would tell me late in the day. "I'm glad you stayed last night. I couldn't have made it through without you, but I'll be okay now."

"Why would I go? You asked me to come. I plan to stay with you until there is some resolution, Mike. I'm not going anywhere."

"It might be dangerous here now," he said, knowing I had sat listening to each call.

"I'm not sure I follow you," I said, wanting to know his thoughts. It was during this exchange that the two policemen showed up at the door. I would learn that they were the same ones that brought the news of Kevin's death the day before. I listened intently to their conversation when it was loud enough for me to hear the words.

"We've confirmed your alibi. That is not to say it removes you completely from suspicion. We know you weren't the triggerman. We wanted to come by to advise you and thank you for your co-operation. We often find the closest person to the victim is the perp and that's as far as we need look."

They didn't seem to want to come in and Big Mike didn't invite them. They inquired as to my identity and Big Mike said we were old friends. I was asked about my whereabouts from the afternoon before. I told them I was at work and told them where I worked and that Mike Rawlins could verify my location at any given time during the day. They seemed unimpressed as they wrote down his name and number before turning their attention back to Big Mike.

"We know he was killed by someone he knew. Maybe even trusted."

Big Mike didn't seem at all surprised. He listened as the officer said they were working on several clues, and had some evidence from the scene that they were processing but they wouldn't discuss it. Big Mike asked about the circumstances of the shooting. The two officers looked at each other, both nodding at the same time. The big cop turned back to Big Mike.

"He was led into or walked into the woods. He was directly in front of his killer a few feet when the first shot was fired directly into his back. The scene would tend to indicate he didn't feel threatened at the time of the first shot. Because of the large caliber of the weapon it knocked him right off his feet. After being shot once in the back, he fell face down, another indication he didn't know what hit him. He was then shot in the back of the head and left for dead. It's how we both see it. The shooter didn't have the balls to look him in the eye when he killed him, and we don't think Kevin had any idea it was coming. The two shots were spaced a matter of a few seconds apart according to several groups of people that heard and reported them.

"He was found a short ways from the Outlaw's Glendale branch hangout. Local motorcycle gang if you aren't familiar with P.G. County's underbelly. We need to know if he knew any of the Outlaws or if he was involved with drugs in any way that might have him going to their clubhouse?"

"No! Absolutely Not! Kevin was a good kid, officer. Strictly a Budweiser man all the way. He may have taken a few puffs from a funny cigarette a few times, but he didn't need drugs and I don't know of him taking any or acting like he might be taking any. He didn't run with anyone like that. I found something missing from the apartment. Should I discuss this with you or someone in robbery," Mike added.

"Could it have a bearing on his murder?"

"Yes, I believe it could."

"You tell us. What's missing."

"It is an antique book that was left in my safe keeping by a friend. It was dated from the mid-nineteenth century, 1855 or 1858 as I recall. Someone uneducated might believe it to be of considerable value."

"What was its value?"

"I have no idea. Like I said, it was left with me for safe keeping by a friend. He indicated it was virtually worthless without a companion book, and the companion book was of great value and the two together would have been even more valuable to a collector. I believe he wanted to keep anyone from knowing he had this book until he could obtain its companion."

"Anything else."

"Yes! Not stolen, but the phone book was in the middle of the kitchen table. It is how I knew to look for the book. The phone book was turned to antique book dealers. There were notes in Kevin's handwriting on the borders. I searched for the book but it's not here. It was here under my bed the last time I saw it."

"The book is now missing, and Kevin is dead. Can I see the phone book? Did you touch it? We might be able to get prints off it. There is a chance the killer was here with him when he made those phone calls," the big policeman said.

"Sure!" Mike retrieved the phone book with a bookmark where the notes appeared. "I didn't touch the pages. I just put the marker in and closed it when I found the book was missing. I thought it was information you'd like to have," Big Mike said.

"Is it your contention that Kevin was trying to sell the book in question?"

"No! I think he was pricing the book. He was curious about it from the time John left it here. I don't believe he would have sold it, but I think he wanted to know the value."

"Does Kevin have anyway to get where he could price the book? Would he have bused or taken a cab down to these book dealers."

"No! Kevin wanted to know but not bad enough to go through a lot of trouble. He'd look for someone to give him a ride. He wouldn't have carried it on the bus, not Kevin. It was a big bulky thing."

"You don't know the value of the book?" the little policeman said.

"I have no idea."

"You could identify this particular book if we found it?"

"I'm sure I would know it if I saw it again. It was red, gold writing on the cover and maybe four or five inches thick. It's a big old book with a lot of prints in it."

"Thanks. This could be important. We figure out who he called for that ride, and we probably have the killer and the killer probably has the book, and that could be important in getting a conviction."

They left and Big Mike closed the sliding door after watching them walk away. It was the first news I heard about the book. The phone book was on the credenza near the door when I arrived. Big Mike fixed us some grilled cheese sandwiches and soup. He didn't speak and was obviously lost in deep thought. We ate and I washed the dishes while he was in the shower. He made more phone calls and received some. He put down the phone to answer the door.

"High Mike. I heard about Kevin. Man, what a bummer."

I knew the voice immediately. It was Mike Wallace. He hugged Big Mike as he entered the room and seemed surprise that I was there. We knew each other well but there was an uneasiness, nervousness, when he saw me. Perhaps it was Kevin's death that had us all on edge. He smiled and offered his hand. When I stood up to take it, he hugged me instead; saying how terrible the news was about Kevin.

His eyes were misty as he stepped back saying, "I heard you intend to do the killer, Big Mike."

"Who told you that?" Big Mike asked, as though someone had said he might be interested in going up to the mall.

"Word gets around," Wallace said. "I brought you something just in case."

Mike Wallace removed what he called, protection, from the pocket of his black trench coat, laying thirty-eight policemen's special in the middle of the table. "You might need this if the killer decides to get you first. It's one of my dad's old guns. Easy to use. Point and squeeze. Don't jerk it when you pull the trigger and you'll hit what you point it at."

This had become an odd conversation to me. Talk of doing and getting done was foreign to my world. Friends lived together they didn't die together or for one another. It was like we were playing out a scene from the old west as seen through the eyes of a Hollywood type director. Wallace had always been a strange bird. At first he had seemed friendly, even loveable, but he'd become increasingly distant over time. Now, he was downright off the wall as far as I was concerned, like with supplying guns so Big Mike could become a killer. My idea would be to keep guns out of his hands.

I didn't like the conversation or Mike Wallace's gun, but it was only going to get worse. He excused himself to go to his car, returning this time with a twelve-gauge shotgun in a leather case. He removed the rifle, leaning it with pride next to the credenza. It shined like a newly polished car. Its present there had yet to be explained. I became increasingly uneasy.

Strangely, Big Mike raised no objection at all to the guns being in his apartment. I knew him to be totally nonviolent, but I also believed this situation made all the difference to him. There was no doubt he had every intention of killing Kevin's killer, now the tools of murder had been provided to him. The guns may have been something he figured he needed to do the job that he needed to do.

"Keep the shotgun upstairs," Mike Wallace instructed. "That will give you an advantage should someone try to come in during the night. They'd come at night. I'd keep the 38 on me if I were you, Big Mike. If the killer knows you are gunning for him, well, I think he might do something about it before you can get ready. I know you and I know you intend to kill him. I believe that. These will make it easier. You'll be ready for him if he shows up here."

"I'm ready. Don't you doubt that," Big Mike said in a low and surly tone.

Mike Wallace was a friend but one that came and went from our click. Yet he knew what I knew. He knew Big Mike was planning on doing exactly what it was he said he would do.

"If you want, I'll stay on with you. I can be your protection. I know guns aren't your thing."

"Yeah! Wallace," Big Mike said softly, "That would be real nice of you. Thanks. You stay with us. I appreciate the help."

"Us. You mean Rick is staying."

"Yeah! I can't get rid of him. No, he's helped me through this. He was the first person I thought of calling. I knew he would come. I'm glad he's here. You know how I am with guns though. Wouldn't want to hit any innocent by-standers. You're probably right, I have talked too much. My anger has overridden my brain in this thing. I guess if we do know the killer, he might make a move before I know who it is. If the killer knows me, he'll know I'll drop him in a heartbeat if I ever get that chance. If I know him, I suspect he's heard I'm after him by now. You bringing the guns is good. I feel safer already."

Mike spoke like he was talking about going grocery shopping. There was no emotion in the matter of fact words. It was not something I wanted to think about. It was the first time I thought we could be in danger, and I remembered his words during each phone call. He was calling the killer out. He wanted a show down. He thought the police were right. He thought Kevin knew the killer, and if Kevin knew the killer then Big Mike did. I was suddenly glad that Wallace and his armory had arrived. I wasn't intending to leave until there was a resolution, but I was hoping there could be a resolution before there was a revolution.

Mike Wallace took the shotgun and placed it upstairs against the high railing that acted as a divider to hide the loft from view in the open apartment. He removed a box of shells from one of his trench coat pockets and placed them on the railing above the gun. When he came back down, he placed a number of 38 cartridges he took from the other pocket in the ashtray in the center of the table next to the thirty-eight policemen's special. He had four shotgun shells in his hand and he placed them beside the ashtray. Preparations for war, I thought. I had a hard time believing it would come to that. I preferred to think the police could handle it. I hoped they could anyway. For Big Mike's sake, I hoped they got to the guy first. I had no desire to lose another friend.

It was about six that a friend called me. He lived in Baltimore and got the number from my mother. Carl was not a close friend and he didn't know Kevin at all but he insisted on coming down to act as moral support. He was a good guy.

"The more the merrier," Big Mike said.

I told Carl that I couldn't come to get him. I didn't want to leave Big Mike. Wallace said he was going to be there. Carl said he would come to us and Big Mike took the phone to give him directions. He asked only I return him to Baltimore when it was all over. The more the merrier was becoming a lot of warm bodies in a space intended for one or two. Our army grew to four and we waited.

If nothing else Carl lightened the mood. He didn't know Kevin and brought none of the weight the three of us carried. Carl was a jokester and took nothing too seriously. He immediately managed to aggravate Wallace causing him to leave abruptly saying, there were enough of us to protect Big Mike without him hanging around. Like I said a strange bird.

Carl was more than willing and even eager to get his hands on the guns. I wasn't sure I wanted to be anywhere around where he could get his hands on guns. He wasn't the maturest person I'd ever known and the thought this was some kind of an adventure we could all have together wasn't the way I saw it. Big Mike was smart enough to put the guns out of reach, hiding the thirty-eight when Carl was in the bathroom. Out of sight and out of mine was fine with me. They were still in the house however.

The following morning the police called with news. They not only had a suspect but they thought they had found a witness that could place the suspect with Kevin an hour before Kevin was killed. Big Mike was trying to get more information by asking what on the surface sounded like innocuous questions, but it was obvious by the quick responses he was getting that they just weren't giving him anything more.

The officer said he would keep Big Mike appraised. Mike relayed the information to me. He seemed happy about this news, and yet an uneasy silence came between the two of us. I think we shared a mutual thought that we soon might know the identity of the killer and it would be a name we would both recognize. This would start another tragic chapter before the first one had ended. It was something I wasn't looking forward to. There were people that Big Mike and Kevin knew that I didn't know well or not at all. I hoped it would be a name I wasn't familiar with. I was becoming selfish as time went on. I didn't want any more pain.

There was no talk or speculation as Carl slept well into the third day. There was no one we knew that we wanted to paint with that particular brush at the moment. No matter who it might be it would come as another blow for our circle of friends to endure. Big Mike said nothing about what he was thinking on this. We had toast and coffee and he read the Post before taking a half dozen phone calls, one right after the other.

Mike Wallace came by again during these calls. Carl was upstairs in the extra bed and peered over the railing while standing right next to where the shotgun was propped against the railing. Wallace kept glancing up at him as though his presence made him uncomfortable. He paced and asked where we would be and where we were going and how long Big Mike had been on the phone.

Big Mike mostly stayed on the phone except for time to say hello to Wallace, and I told him I didn't know if we were going anywhere. He once more left in what seemed like a more agitated mood than when he took off the night before. He cast an unpleasant glance over his shoulder at Carl as he went out through the curtain, and Carl stuck his tongue out after watching his every move.

He had seemed disheveled, his mousy brown hair was uncombed and greasy looking, and he was wearing the very same clothes as though he might have slept in them or not slept at all since the evening before. I wasn't sure if it was that he hadn't slept or if he was doing drugs, but his actions seemed even more strange than usual. I knew he and Kevin had been friends of sorts but I didn't think they were all that close to have him in such a state. He was young so I thought that perhaps the reality of Kevin's death was only then sinking in. Big Mike had ignored his presence for the most part and then he was gone again.

The night before I had written off his behavior as grief and feeling he wasn't needed once Carl showed up. Today it was just bad manners and poor hygiene. Big Mike never had a chance to carry on a conversation with him, so whatever was on his mind would remain a mystery until he showed up again, and I had no doubt he would be back. There was more talk of finding the killer and putting him out of our misery. Big Mike never mentioned Wallace once he finished taking calls.

Rose called and was concerned for Big Mike. He spent some time reassuring her he would be fine. Fred wanted to come over to add to the confusion but Big Mike finally put his foot down, saying it wasn't a good idea. She then insisted on sending food over so that she could be sure he was getting something to eat. He accepted her offer, thinking it would keep her busy. Little did he know Rose had already organized friends and neighbors in a food brigade that would fill the apartment with enough covered dish meals to last until Spring. Big Mike's grief had seemingly subsided somewhat, but it was etched into the lines of his face in an unmistakable way, and he would carry his lose for the rest of his life, always being visible in the loneliness you would find in his dark eyes.

The one name that was mentioned to Rose was John Gorely, owner of the now infamous book, or caretaker if not owner. Big Mike wasn't sure to whom the book really belonged. John had the charm of a cobra. He was quick, intelligent, and would drop a dime on his mother for a buck or two. I had known, but not seen him since the year I met Big Mike. It seemed like a lifetime ago now, but I knew John played both ends against the middle. There was little or nothing he wouldn't do but why the book? It was his book. Why kill Kevin over something he could take by asking?

It didn't make any sense but none of it did. We talked about John, but I could tell Big Mike didn't think he killed Kevin. In spite of John's shortcomings I had always been fond of him. Big Mike cared for him but no longer trusted him. I doubt he ever would again now that the book John brought to their house might have played a role in Kevin's death.

It was getting toward evening when the police made yet another visit to the apartment. The big police officer carried a thick red volume under his arm that got Big Mike's attention immediately. He stepped through the sliding glass doors this time, seeming to be there to stay. He put the book on the credenza for Big Mike's inspection. It was the missing book. Big Mike stared at it for the longest time. I have no idea what he was thinking. His eyes filled up but he didn't cry. It was a link back to Kevin when he was last alive, and perhaps the reason he was dead. There was a long silence after he verified that it was, without question, the missing book.

The big officer stood with his hands clasped in front of him as his partner stood just outside the door, with one foot inside the apartment and one foot on the outside. It was obvious he wanted to talk this time and Big Mike pulled a chair to the middle of the room and offered him a cup of coffee. While preparing it the officer talked to him in soft even tones.

"We executed a search warrant late last night. Do you know a Jimmy Fields?"

"Yes! I do," Mike said, with the first appearance of any surprise and a not Jimmy in his voice.

"No!" the big officer said anticipating the incorrect conclusion Mike was jumping to. "Jimmy called us after hearing about the murder on television. He left a message that he knew Kevin. I returned his call as soon as I got back to the station. He first told me that he was working at the BP gas station up on 450 the day Kevin was killed. He saw Kevin in the car with a boy he knew. When they drove away from the station at one forty five, they drove toward the beltway and toward Glendale. It is a fifteen-minute drive from the station to where Kevin's body was found. I drove it after talking with him. That is conservative but it gives us a narrow thirty-minute window we are looking at. The conclusion we've drawn is that the driver of the car is likely to be the killer.

"Placing him with Kevin that late in the game is pressing pretty close to the time of death. We couldn't ask for more since the only witness to the crime is the murderer. We questioned Jimmy again for a time last night and he gave us the name of someone that would be likely to have the book and the murder weapon. We did not ask him why he gave us this information but he sounded sure about it."

"How would Jimmy know that?" Big Mike asked, very concerned.

"Jimmy asked his friend where he went after he left the station. Jimmy said he told him he went to his brother's where he spent the night. We executed a search warrant on the brother's residence with this information as justification for the warrant. No murder weapon but the book turned up as Jimmy suspected. We advised the brother of our suspect that the book was evidence in a murder investigation and if he didn't turn it over pretty damn quick, we would haul him in on obstruction and as an accessory to murder after the fact.

"We have no reason to think the brother was involved at this point, and he couldn't wait for us to take the book out of his apartment. He told us that his brother had come to the apartment the night before and brought the book with him. He told us that he knew his brother carried a 357 magnum under his black trench coat, but he didn't actually see it the night he brought the book. He also indicated where we could find several other guns that his brother owned.

"Using this newly developed information, we executed a warrant on the suspect's residence after watching him for awhile. He was arrested a couple of hours ago after we staked out the residence. We didn't move on him sooner because we didn't wanted to wait until he knew we were looking at him. We weren't sure if the brother would notify him or not, and guys like this rabbit in a second. We were hoping he'd try to get rid of the murder weapon, after he found out we were looking at him.

"He didn't give us a problem but he wasn't carrying the gun we are looking for. I'm not sure if we have a lead on the murder weapon at this point or not. We didn't give you any of this before because we were in a difficult situation in this case. While all the evidence points to our man, we didn't have anything but circumstantial evidence. A smart lawyer would get him a pass and that's not what we were looking to get, and a smart D.A. wouldn't file on what we had."

"Who?" Big Mike said, in a voice that wasn't his and after his face turned red. "What's the name. I want to know his name."

The officer sat silent and studied Big Mike for some time. It was as though he didn't really want to tell him, but he knew he would find out that day or the next, when the news broke.

"Mike, you know a Michael Wallace."

There was a uniform gasp in the room. Big Mike and I looked at each other in disbelief. Carl stood in his underwear looking over the balcony at us, listening.

"Yes! He was here several times," Big Mike said.

"He was here last night and again this morning. He brought you guns. His friend Jimmy talked to him after we charged him. He was going to kill you, Mike. Jimmy said he came over to kill you because he heard you would kill him if you found out who it was that killed Kevin. He decided he wasn't going to wait for you to make the first move. When your buddy was here he was going to take both of you out. Two quick shots after you're asleep and he would be over the fence and across the freeway, gone in the night.

"We would have been left thinking there was something you and Kevin were involved in that got you murdered. He would have been as free as a bird but he didn't figure on his friend busting him. When your third friend showed up, he started to see how complicated it was getting. Wallace thought he would just wait and catch you alone. He thought he might call you to meet him, saying he had information about Kevin's murder so you'd be off guard. He waits for you to show up at the appointed spot and ambushes you from a distance and just walks away. He picks a spot that offers him the most advantage for this kind of thing. He's not the kind of guy that likes to see his victim's eyes.

"We talked to him for a couple of hours after he left here. He wasn't giving anything up. He was an arrogant little shit but dumb as a post. We said, Jimmy saw you with Kevin the day he was murdered. You said you hadn't seen him in weeks. He saw you half an hour before shots were heard and the body was found only a few minutes later. We called him a liar and my partner drops the book down on the table in front of him. We tell him his brother calls him a liar too and he isn't taking a fall for murder to protect him.

"Wallace turned green and his eyes got big as saucers. We told him he had to take a lie detector but he was guilty as sin and we had enough to send him away for life. He spilled his guts without us saying anything else. We just let the little shit hang himself. What a pathetic piece of shit."

"We didn't have jack on him, Mike. A lot of circumstantial evidence, but the D.A. couldn't make a case out of all those loose ends we couldn't tie up without a confession. No! We would never have gotten the little creep on the evidence we had. All he had to say was, Kevin gave me the book to hold for him just before he dropped him up in Glendale. That would have bought him a pass, but instead he gives us the confession. What a little shit."

"Anyway, I wanted to let you know what happened. I could see you really cared for Kevin and I'm sorry about what happened to him, but at least we got his killer before he could do anymore harm. We got him before he got you. Just watch what you say you are going to do while you're on the phone, Mike. It's against the law to make threats to kill someone. People could get the wrong idea if they heard you say such a thing. Don't get yourself in trouble over that worthless piece of garbage. He isn't worth it. You should be more careful in the future. Kevin must have been quite a kid for you to care that much for him."

"Yes, he was," Big Mike said. "Quite a kid."

The police officer stood and extended his hand to Big Mike. Big Mike tried to smile but it wasn't possible under the circumstances.

"Thanks. I appreciate you taking the time to come by to give me those details. I know you don't need to do that and I'm grateful."

"No problem," the officer said as he collected the book, "You take care of yourself, Mike. You too guys, and get those guns out of here before someone gets hurt," he said before turning his head toward us as he was halfway through the drapes. "Frankly, if he'd done that to my buddy, I'd have been gunning for that little creep too. Drop the body and the gun in the bay and he'd just be another missing person. Don't quote me on that."

... And he was gone.


Send Rick an email at quillswritersrealm@yahoo.com

On to Chapter Three

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"Browning Incident" Copyright © 1 November 2012 OLYMPIA50. All rights reserved.
    This work may not be duplicated in any form (physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise) without the author's written permission. All applicable copyright laws apply. All individuals depicted are fictional with any resemblance to real persons being purely coincidental.

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