Hi folks. As you read this AlleyKat06 and I are probably doing part 1 of our honeymoon. I'll still be here though to see how you view this one. This story is a moderate length one so it's a bit longer than the last two. Those of you who wanted longer stories will still be disappointed that it's not longer but I figured something in the middle might be good for most of you. This story is also strange because it's very, very dark. It's also a continuation of a story that many of you have never read. I did a recap during the story to bring everyone up to speed, so you don't have to have read the original story to follow it.As always if you don't like it, there will be something different next week. As always thanks to the incredible Mikothebaby for her editing and keeping me on the straight and narrow with this one.SS06
As usual, I had a headache. The fucking thing just wouldn't leave me. My doctor says it's stress. He says that maybe at my age I should consider slowing down and riding a desk. He says that I'd probably live longer if I did that. I think that I'd just be trading my normal eventual death for a slower more meaningless one. We're all going to die of something anyway aren't we?
What I do may not be the most important thing in the world, but it is necessary and God damn it, I'm good at it. I'm also far more appreciative of what I actually do this time around. I almost lost it because I let my small head do the thinking for the big head. One dumb assed decision fucked up a career that I'd worked years for. (Read the Beat for more clarification)
The funniest thing about it is that I never did get any pussy out of the deal but I did make a friend ... eventually. So now, as I step lightly to avoid ruining my new shoes in the muck, shit and God knows what else of this alley, pussy is the furthest thing from my mind. The only things on my mind right now are my headache and my curiosity over whatever sick act some denizen of the lowest rung of humanity has done tonight.
My name is John Fogerty and I'm a cop again. After a couple of years back on the force after that initial fuck up, I'm even a detective again. I follow the gestures from a uni, that's slang for uniformed officers or patrol cops, and make my way to the scene.
The pounding in my head is like a fucking drum. I can barely think.
"Hey, Fogerty. Wait until you see this one," says Arnie Chang. He's the uni who waved me over to the scene. I looked around and noticed that the other unis were combing the area for any kind of evidence. There on the ground in front of Arnie is the body of a woman who looks to be in her seventies. She's a frail little thing. The only thing odd about her is the large angular crease in her head. Both blood and gray matter are seeping through the gaping crease. It makes her head look like the top of it is shaped like a "V."
"That's some sick shit isn't it, Fogerty?" asks Chang.
"Yeah Arnie, it's really sick. You find any ID on her?" I ask.
"We waited for the ME," says Arnie. "We didn't want to do anything that might disturb evidence or anything like that. Ever since all of those fucking CSI type shows have come on TV all of those ME types have become fucking prima donnas. They act like if we check the body or the pockets of the deceased's clothing, we'll spoil the case and the bad guy will get away. But in real life, the bad guys actually get away because we can't touch the body to try to identify it."
"As soon as we find out who Grandma is, I want to know about it," I snap. "I also want to know where she lived, who she lived with, and any financial information that might be pertinent," I said.
"You got it," he says.
"Arnie, I'm no CSI egghead," I begin. "But it looks like someone who was really fucking strong caved this nice old lady's head in with a fucking two by four. It took a lot of strength to do that and a lot of anger. I want that asshole off the streets." Arnie nods at me and the pounding in my head goes up another notch. I consider reaching into my pocket to pop yet another aspirin but my phone rings and saves me from doing it.
"Fogerty," I snap answering the phone. "Who's this?"
"It's your fucking boss, you fossil. What the fuck are you doing?"
"Well Stan, I think they call it working. I'm on the scene of that homicide on Lafayette Avenue," I said.
"Well, I'll pass that one off to someone else, I have something special I need you to look into," he says.
"Uhn unh Stan, this one is special too," I tell him.
"Dammit Fogerty, they're all special, but this one has to do with a friend of the mayor's so it's a lot more God damned special and I am your fucking boss," he yells.
"Stan," I say quietly. "Remember that girls group from the eighties?"
"You mean the Bangles?" he asks. "Shit, those bitches were hot; especially that little dark haired one. She looks a lot like that piece of ass you got staying with you. I'd..."
"No Stan, not the Bangles. I mean that other girl group; the one with the chubby girls. They had a cute little dark haired guitar player too though. They sang that song about their lips being sealed."
"The fucking Go-Gos?" he asks. "What does this have to do with the fucking Go-Gos?"
"What was their other big hit?" I ask. I start humming the melody.
"Vacation," he screams. "Fogerty, you are not pulling that vacation shit on me. Okay, I'll make a deal with you. Let the unis handle securing the scene and you go over to the address I'm texting you. You can handle both cases, but I need your head in the game on this case. I don't want the mayor coming down on the Commissioner."
"Stan, fuck the commish. He's an asshole," I spat.
"Yeah, but that asshole will put pressure on the chief, who will in turn, put pressure on me and pressure rolls downhill," he said. "Get my drift?" Then he hung up and my headache ratcheted up again. I couldn't believe I was being shifted to some other case that wasn't even a homicide, while the guy or guys who killed an old lady were allowed to stay free. Something other than pressure was rolling down hill and to me it smelled like bullshit.
As I made my way back to my unmarked police car, I lit my flashlight to make sure I didn't step into anything and ruin my fucking shoes. Melinda would have my ass if I stepped in something and ruined these shoes. Shit, Melinda would have my ass for something anyway. The bitch hated my fucking guts.
My light illuminated a bunch of rats. They scurried off into the night. They'd been eating away at the carcass of what looked like a dead cat. They were just a part of the circle of life in Detroit.
The pounding in my head grew worse. It was like a drum. Over and over again just one long, relentless fucking beat.
The drums keep pounding a rhythm to the brain. Oh, La dee da de dee. La dee da dee da. Murder's on the menu once again. Oh, La dee da de dee. La dee da dee da.
And the beat goes on. The beat goes on.
"I'm tired of your shit, mother," I yelled at her. "I know you don't want to do this but I have to. It's been too long. I have to get my husband back. So if I have to sell this house to get enough money, that's what we're doing. And you Daddy, what do you have to say?"
The two guys who'd come to the house with me looked at me crazily. I guess they just didn't understand that I consulted my parents about everything. We'd always been close. In fact, if it hadn't been for their support, I probably wouldn't have survived Tommy's decision to divorce me.
"What?" I snapped. "Fuck you Daddy. You always side with her. Look, I know you married her, but I'm your own flesh and blood. I was created from a part of both of you. You have to understand how much this means to me. You two are getting to be too old to be on your own anyway. Once the house sells, I'll just have some of the guys I've hired for my plan move you into the place I'm sharing with Fogerty."
"It really is for the best. And I know that the two of you don't like Fogerty, but really he's just a means to an end. If my plan is successful, the five of us will be one big happy family in Tommy's huge house. Think about it. It will be Tommy and me, plus his adorable baby; she really should have been mine. But that disgusting, ugly, red headed cunt stole my husband out from under me and managed to get herself pregnant before I could do anything about it. That bitch has to pay and this time she's going to. It's my turn now. I've waited long enough. And you guys will get to live in the house with us. But only if you're willing to make a few sacrifices along the way. I'm not carrying any dead weight with me on this trip. So what do you say?" I noticed again that the two men were staring at me as I waited for my parents to answer me.
"Finally, you see it my way mother," I said in triumph. "Does that mean that you're on board too Daddy? Of course I'm still your little girl and Tommy's always been like a son to you, so this changes nothing. Instead of us living with you, you'll be living with us."
I walked over to the two men. "The buyer I've lined up for the house is a real estate developer. She'll deliver my check by day after tomorrow. She wants a quick sale and she's giving me until the weekend after next to get all of my stuff out of here. So we have two weeks. As soon as I get the check, I'll give you half of your money. You'll get the other half when this is done. Are we on?"
The two large men looked down at me.
"Uhm, what about the other part of it?" asked one of the men. "I just got out and it's been a while."
.... There is more of this story ...