Summer to Remember mature, CC, Complete, Nov 1, 09

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ken_r
Obsessed Roswellian
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Joined: Wed Oct 04, 2006 11:34 pm
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Summer to Remember mature, CC, Complete, Nov 1, 09

Post by ken_r » Thu Jul 02, 2009 11:24 am

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Title: Summer to Remember
Author: ken_r AKA Ken242 AKA Kenneth Renouard
Genera: Alternate Universe No Aliens
Disclaimer: I am just using the characters to act out my story. No harm intended. They are in no way my own.
Couples CC when applied
Rating: Mature maybe
Summary: Fear is the dread of what both the readers and characters think or know is approaching. Like the anticipation of the dentist’s drill, they see only impending harm and/or pain.

The Roswell group has broken up. Only Alex and Isabel remain together. The other individuals go their separate ways until strange things bring them back together. The story is told POV because I want to get into their thoughts. That is where the fear will be created and where it will be found. They will find that their fears are real and only if unexpected help arrives can their life forces strengthen their resolve. Then they can stand to rebuild their lives.

This time my Maria is strong but vulnerable. I hope those of you who like candy, like her.

A Summer to Remember

Liz

My name is Elizabeth DeLuca. It used to be just Liz Parker but due to a terrible mistake I made, it changed. Yes, I made a mistake, but it was just one of a myriad of mistakes made by all of us. The others are trying to correct or repair their mistakes, but right now, I am just trying to find peace within myself.

Interstate 40 coming into New Mexico roughly follows the old route 66. I am too young to remember except for reruns of the television show. It was one where two guys, one educated and the other just an average Joe, traveled Route 66 finding jobs and having adventures. They drove a red Corvette and they attracted attention wherever they went. That is the last thing I want to do. I do not want any more adventures, nor do I want to attract any attention.

We all had adventures and we handled them badly, except for Isabel and Alex. Alex, my friend from grade school, and Isabel the ice queen, the diva of style, who when she came down from her throne to marry Alex, proved to be a good friend. They are the only ones of us still together. I guess, Maria and Michael were the first to go.

The real reason for their break up was never apparent. Of course, Michael being in the hospital for several days and Maria charged by the police for attempted murder drove a bit of a wedge between them. It wasn’t until Michael regained consciousness and explained that he had fallen and hit his head that the police finally, let Maria go. Her confession that the police obtained that tearful night was negated by the refusal of Michael to change his story. He explained her confession as delusional because she felt guilty for wanting to leave him. The district attorney spent hours trying to get Michael to change his story, but no chance. Maria was free to leave and she quickly, scurried out of town.

Mine was bigger, at least in the people it affected, I came home early one night and caught Max in bed with Tess. This ended our relationship which I had been convinced would lead to marriage during or after college, “Max and Liz, together forever.” That is what the inscription on my locket said. I was a person of logic and not violence. I just slammed the door of the home we had shared and stormed out of the driveway scattering gravel on the white Mustang convertible of the gerbil. I secretly hoped I, at least, caused a bit of rock damage, but I didn’t wait to see. Isabel and Alex were my friends so that is the first place I went. I was crying when Max came in. He tried to find an excuse, but neither Isabel nor I allowed him to finish. Alex, who had been my friend for such a long time, just escorted Max out the door. At first, Max refused to leave, but Alex explained that it would be best if Max left. If he didn’t, Alex would personally smash his face in. When we first came together, Alex was just a skinny geek. Now, after earning several millions from software and several years of personal defense training even before high school graduation, Max was hesitant to start anything with Alex.

News of their indiscretion spread and Kyle, who really loved Tess, was all packed by the time she came home. Not only had she betrayed him, but also, she had betrayed me. Surprisingly, Kyle still had a lot of affection for me. We had dated and broke up when I met Max. The seduction had broken the fragile friendship between Kyle and Max. Kyle was just out of there. Tess had nothing left in Roswell, so she left as well. I have no idea what had happened to her. I struggled daily to suppress the hope that it was something very bad. That just wasn’t in my religion or character.

I continued my college plans without Max. I heard he had gone to Stanford, but I have no idea what he did there. I followed my original dream and finally, graduated from Harvard with a Master’s degree in biology. Somewhere along the way, I had been thrown in with Sean, the seedy cousin of Maria. Maria was nowhere around and Sean had some charm, so we were soon married. Sean had a bachelor’s degree in business from a small college in New York.

The relationship was doomed from the start. Sean was a beer and burger fan and I was soon offered an executive position with a biological company. He soon tired of hearing about my new friends, those who I worked with daily. They were all in research and development, strictly a wine and sirloin crowd. While Sean was trying to prove he was just as good as they were, he got caught in an investment scam. It took much of our shared savings, savings that I had mostly earned, to mount a defense. In the end, he copped a plea for lesser time and turned state’s evidence on some of the others. I was to learn later that the scam was much bigger than anyone, at that time, thought. Of course, that was after he had spent all my money. He was caught up in the depression of the financial institutions, so he still got ten years hard time. This was a relationship that could go nowhere, so I filed for divorce. Now, I am spending the last of our/my savings trying to redefine myself before I return to work. I booked a cabin In the mountains of northern New Mexico for the summer.

I should have asked why the cabin was so reasonable. Normally, a summer in the mountains would have cost much more than Sean had left me, but I was in a panic to get away from my troubles. I thought that, for a brief moment, fate was kind. For once, I would take the blessing of something I could afford. My parents had died several years ago. I hear from Isabel, occasionally, maybe it is from Alex, they both always signed the letters. The Evans elders were both well, but they had aged and were showing it. Max being gone, Isabel was the caregiver for her parents. She was sort of trapped, as she had to always be on call to help them in their many failings. Alex and Isabel both expressed that they would enjoy seeing me, but they understood that Roswell had nothing but bad memories to offer me.

Right now, I have no idea where any of my former friends are. It has been months since I have had any correspondence from Maria. Kyle and Michael have dropped off the face of the earth. Sometimes, I remember the good times with Max, but my mind quickly closes on that subject.

I-25 was coming up to the exit for Bernalillo. Bernalillo, (the double “l” is pronounced kind of like a “y”,) was the original town settled when the Spanish first came to this area of the southwest. I turned at the intersection just north of the town and proceeded on highway 550 to the Jemez turn off at San Ysidro. San Ysidro, the patron saint of farmers and ranchers, a good saint to have on your side in this rural country. I always had to laugh when I told friends I would be going to the Jemez
Mountains. I had to explain again and again that the “J” would be pronounced like an “H”. I drove the snake like road through several little towns and one Native American Pueblo until I was high in the mountains. My ears, popping from the altitude, told me that it had been a long time since I had been this high up in the mountains. I saw a sign stating, “Thunderbird Paradise, modern cabins to relax in, with internet connection.” The old man at the desk gave me a map and I proceeded up a dirt road to my cabin that set back in the trees.

I parked and unpacked. Among the papers they gave me from the office, I found a list of things to do in the area. There was a town nearby called LaCueva, (the cave in Spanish). It had a nightspot with a diner, offering drinking and dancing. There was a small store that had groceries and notions. A filling station along with a post office about made up the rest of the town. It was late in the afternoon, so I decided to eat out before setting up any domestic stuff. I would probably also, return for breakfast as I would have no groceries until the small store opened in the morning.

At the Forest Roost, (what that name meant I have no idea,) I heard country music from a band as I was led to a table for one. I was back in the southwest, so I ordered an enchilada plate. I wasn’t disappointed as it had the correct balance between fire and flavor. My iced tea was brewed, not some instant stuff pawned off so many times in town. The music was coming from another room and the walls deadened it enough so it was enjoyable. I was just finishing off my enchilada when I heard, “Chica, what are you doing here?”

I looked up and saw a curvy blonde who, even though we wrote to each other occasionally, I hadn’t seen in ten years. “Maria, imagine seeing you here. I might ask the same question.”

“Oh, I am staying at a cabin of a friend of mine. He loaned it to me for the summer,” the Blonde said.

I raised my eyebrows, “A friend.”

“Yes, a friend and before you say anything, he is over 50 and was one of my managers. He, sort of, took care of me, keeping me out of trouble when he could and when he couldn’t, he sent me here to hide for a spell,” Maria explained. “Where are you staying?”

“I am staying at one of the Thunderbird Paradise cabins. I will be here most of the summer. I have a few things to straighten out,” I said.

“Yeah, if I had been home, I would have stopped you from seeing Sean. He may be my cousin, but he will always be up to no good,” Maria stated.

“Well, I had to learn for myself. Now, I have to pick up my life and decide what to do with it,” I replied.

Maria looked closely, “Have you seen Max since that day?”

I frowned, “No, and why should I? I just got out of one bad situation, I have no intention of getting into another one.”

“He took your leaving pretty hard.” Maria stated.

“Well, he should have thought of that before he climbed into her bed, or rather, he allowed her to climb into our bed,” I probably answered with more vehemence than necessary.

“Someday, I wish he would explain, at least to me, why he did that.” Maria stated.

“Well, he can explain to you, all he wants. I could care less. He hurt me and I made some bad choices after that. I want a new life, not to rehash the old one,” I said.

Maria drew back, “Does that include me?”

I softened, “No, Maria. We have been friends forever. I am really glad to see you. I wanted to get away from everyone, but now I am here, a friendly face is a comfort.

Maria sort of looked coy, “There are other familiar faces around here,” she said.

I straightened and guardedly asked, “Who, Maria?”

“Well, for one, Michael took a Jemez Springs police position for the summer. He and Kyle attended New Mexico State and graduated in police science. Kyle went right into the FBI, but Michael, as I understand, wants something more local. He is just filling in during the tourist season,” Maria informed me.

“Does Michael know you are here?” I asked.

“Noo… and I am trying to find a way to tell him without ending up in jail,” Maria said.

“Is that why you are here?” I exclaimed. “Maria, you gave the man a concussion with whatever you threw. He just wouldn’t testify against you is the only reason you didn’t go to prison.”

Maria hung her head, “That was the dumbest thing I ever did. I threw more than the frying pan at Michael. I threw away a relationship that was probably the best I will ever have.”

“Is that why you are here, Maria? Are you trying to start something up with Michael again?” I inquired, repeating my self.

“No, I really am hiding out. I got myself into some real trouble back in St. Louis. A guy who was taking care of me got shot and I saw who did it. Both the feds and the mob are looking for me. Ed, he is the manager I was talking about, offered me this cabin. When I learned that Michael had taken the job with the Jemez police, that was just icing on my cake. If I am going to be shot or taken by the feds, I want at least one more chance to right things with Michael,” Maria explained. Her life had gotten so complicated that she felt she had to explain everything to me. After all I am her “bestest friend.”

“Well, I am going to try to make some sense out of my life. I have the chance to take a managerial job back east or I might take a teaching job here in the southwest. The teaching job might let me continue my education. After all the troubles with your cousin, I do not want to have much to do with any police.” I leaned back as I was talking to her. Our talk went on from there, mostly with small talk and stories about what had happened during the years since we had seen each other. It was getting late and I, at least, was tired. Tomorrow, I would shop for groceries and start the process of defining who I would be in the future.

It was very dark in the campground when I returned. You know, that almost black velvet like sky, I couldn’t see any stars and the moon was hiding. My headlights made very little headway in lighting the little valley. They just went out into the night and stopped. It was as if my world was shrinking around the view I saw out of my windshield. My imagination saw all sorts of monsters just outside of this short path. I had a little trouble finding my cabin in this total darkness. Once inside, I made up my bed and retired for the night.
Last edited by ken_r on Sun Nov 01, 2009 10:11 pm, edited 31 times in total.
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

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ken_r
Obsessed Roswellian
Posts: 860
Joined: Wed Oct 04, 2006 11:34 pm
Location: New Mexico

Re: Summer to Remember mature, CC, july 2 09

Post by ken_r » Sun Jul 05, 2009 7:21 pm

Begonia9508
destinyc
mary mary
confusedfool
keepsmiling7
jake17

Author note: There are many questions which are answered as the story unfolds.

Chapter 2

Liz

It was about 2:00 a.m. when I heard it. You know that scream you only hear in the movies. It was that scream as the killer runs through the sorority house with his chain saw, the scream of someone dying slowly and painfully. I remembered a class in modern history: Richard Speck was a man who, in 1966, systematically murdered several student nurses. He strangled and stabbed them, one by one, while the rest waited their turn. That scream I heard that night, triggered that memory. I woke up in a sweat. My mind was raging in fear. My heart was racing. Was someone systematically killing women while I waited my turn? Events of fear that I had lived with the last few months now surfaced. All the fears of a knock in the night at the door, someone coming for what little money, Sean hadn’t already taken, surrounded me so that I couldn’t think coherently. Finally, I heard the bugle of an elk in the distance and I thought, “I am in the mountains”. I had read that mountain lions scream just like a woman in pain. That is what it must have been. The whole Richard Speck episode must have just jumped into my conscious mind by accident. I was here to exorcize the fears that, Sean had left me with. I made myself laugh. Here I am going to redefine my self and all I manage is to scare myself witless. If it was a lion, this was ranch country, cowboys and their trusty thirty-thirty Winchesters would make short work of the creature if it came near people.

I slept late. With the assurance that all was well the rest of the evening I slept soundly. I heard noise outside. I quickly dressed and went out my door. The valley below was filled with cars. There were state police black and whites, the white and brown stripped cruisers of the Sandoval county sheriff and several vans and other official looking cars. There was a crowd of people milling about on the other side of the small valley. I quickly dressed. Walking out, I was accosted by, “Liz, what the hell are you doing here?” I immediately recognized the familiar voice.

“Michael, what is happening?” I asked.

The expression on his face changed immediately. “Liz, did you hear anything last night?” he inquired.

“Yes, about 2:00 this morning, I heard what I thought was a mountain lion scream. What is this all about?” I asked again.

Michael was evasive at first. “Liz what are you doing here?” He demanded again.

I was taken back by his change in attitude. “I took a cabin for the summer. I have some things in my life to sort out. I thought this might be a good place to do that,” I explained.

“Well, you want to be careful. A woman was murdered last night. Mountain lions haven’t been seen around here for years. Look, Liz, I am working now, but I will drop by sometime this afternoon to talk to you.” With that, Michael went back to the group of men who I now saw were either in dark suits or in uniforms.

Michael’s news sent chills running down my spine. I had calmed what I thought was unreasonable terror and now, he was telling me that I had cause to fear. I wanted to get groceries as soon as possible, so I drove to the village and bought what I thought I would need for the week. It was late in the afternoon, when I heard the knock at the door. I opened the door and Michael, with his hat in his hand, walked in and sat at my table without any word. I think he was glad to see a familiar face. “Michael can I fix you some coffee?” I asked.

“Liz, that would be mighty fine. This has been a hard day. I was just supposed to be an intern. You know, sort of, ‘See what working with a small town police department would be like.’ Well, my training is better than anyone else’s on the force, so they are putting all of this on me. I just don’t know if I am that good. I am using everything I learned in college and calling my professors every night to ask them questions. The state police and the feds are helping, but this is the third murder we have had in two weeks. Liz, you picked a fine time to come up here.” Michael stated sarcastically. Maybe the sarcasm covered up his worry.

I swallowed, “Michael, I put the last of the money Sean didn’t steal into this summer. If I leave, I really do not have anyplace to go. Am I in danger?”

“We don’t know, Liz. We don’t know the reason for these murders, yet.” Michael informed me. “There doesn’t seem to be a connection between the women murdered, so far. They may even be just random. If they are, then you must be extra careful.”

“Michael, Maria is up here, also,” I told him. When he told me of the killer, she was the first person I thought of. True, the last killing had been within earshot of my cabin, but as far as I knew Maria was isolated somewhere. There would not even be anyone to hear her screams.

First Michael frowned then he looked worried. “Where is she living?” he asked.

“I don’t know, Michael. I just saw her at the Forest Roost last night for supper,” I reported.

Michael looked at me. I think I saw deep sadness in his eyes. “You know, I sometimes wish I hadn’t said anything to her that day. She told me she wanted the life of a rock star. I guess, I heard it as, ‘I wasn’t good enough for her, anymore’. It was a blow to my manhood as well as my heart. I blurted out, ‘What do you want to do, Maria, fuck a different roadie every night?’ That is when she threw the pan. I guess, she got her life as a rock star. I heard she had a bad time of it. She was misused, by everyone who was around her. They say she is totally broke.”

I looked at Michael, “There must have been one person who cared about her. One of her managers let her use his cabin for the summer.”

“Yes, and it is the worst time ever. Look, Liz, I am just a college graduate in police science. I have book learning, but no experience. The others in the Jemez Springs Police force, are used to passing out tickets on Sunday to speeders. That is the way they pay their salary,” Michael explained. “Things are getting really out of hand.”

Michael and I continued a little small talk about our lives without mentioning anyone else from our group. Finally, he left. Later, I learned that Michael was taking things seriously. He had met a man named Pedro Baca. Pedro had been an undercover cop during the northern New Mexico Tierra Amarilla war in 1967. Pedro was born in northern New Mexico. He joined the State Police as soon as he was 21. It was rumored that he was part Apache. The closest Pedro came to admitting this was once, when he was interrogating a felon. He asked his sergeant to step outside of the room for a minute and he would question the fellow the old way. His black eyes, shaggy hair and stories from the movies about Apaches had the man singing as loud as he could before the sergeant even closed the door. Michael had made friends with Pedro and Pedro being retired and bored, had moved to the Jemez area. He rode with Michael many times.

Michael:

My mind couldn’t help from drifting to Liz. Max had been my best friend. I had always admired what I saw in the Liz/Max relationship. When Max had broken the faith and slept with Tess I was both disappointed and angry at him. Tess was a sure thing. Getting her clothes off took little more than a suggestion. Liz was someone who would be a true companion. I was sure, when the times were right, she would be seen as a true lover. Then Max, in his impatience, just couldn’t let it go. I always wondered what caused Max to get laid by Tess, that day, and to do it in his and Liz’s bed. “Not too swift, Max,” I told him. Of course, earlier the same week, I woke up in the hospital with a concussion and my love sitting in jail for the attempted murder of me. She had even admitted her guilt. I just contradicted her and alluded that her confession was guilt she bore for wanting to leave me. Liz left, Maria got out of jail and started on the road singing, Max went to Stanford and that left Kyle and me. We decided to attend New Mexico State University at Las Cruces. We both majored in law enforcement. Kyle left as soon as we graduated. I still hear from Alex and Isabel and now, Maria was back, right in the middle of a crime spree, a spree that was getting people killed. A large part of me wanted desperately to see Maria. The reality in me said it would be better if she was back on the road.

Liz

The morning was beautiful. The murder of two days ago forgotten for a moment. The air was crisp and clean, the jays were calling to each other. A lone crow was calling as he made his way across the sky. This all was making my mountain experience enjoyable. I wrote letters that I had put off for a long time. I answered emails with the internet provided in the campground. I walked by the stream and watched the trout swim in front of me. Once, I even saw a mama deer and her fawn. I felt the tension the weeks of watching Sean battle his court fight. I had daily learned of the deeds he had done, the pain he had caused drained my emotion away from me. No matter how I felt now, I believe, at one time, I at least cared for Sean. I was used to this. I loved Max and he betrayed me. I cared for Sean. Why should I expect him to be more loyal?

Once more, I met Maria at the Forest Roost for dinner that week. We talked way into the night. She never told me where she was living. It seemed like a trust that I didn’t want to break. It was dark when I returned to my cabin. This time, the moon was bright and you could see across the meadow of the valley. I could feel that my world was as vast as my sight. The bright moon gave me a sense of security. But, as I approached my door, I felt a shove. Rough hands grabbed me and an arm wrapped around my throat. The smell of his breath was enough to make me gasp. I don’t think he even knew what toothpaste was. In the moonlight, I saw a knife in his other hand. I just reacted. I stamped my foot down his shin bone as hard as I could. The stamp went all the way to his instep. He screamed and his hold on me was broken. I ran. I could hear him behind me. I imagined that his foul breath was suffocating me. I was running to the cabin, but what good would the cabin do? The door could be kicked in easily. Just as I reached the door, I heard a grunt. I turned and there were two figures scuffling. I saw one figure go down as he was hit with something, probably a rock. I heard footsteps running and then, I saw the man who was down rise up and he disappeared into the shadows.

Using only my small flashlight on my keychain, I found the house phone called the Jemez Springs police. I asked for Michael, but was told he wasn’t on duty. “I have been attacked,” I whispered.

“Is the attacker still near?” the phone asked.

“No, I think he ran off,” I answered. I was still afraid to talk out loud. It was as if he heard me, the attacker would return.

“Just stand by. It will be about ten minutes for a car to get to you. The officer will identify himself and turn his red lights on. Don’t open the door for anyone else,” the disembodied voice replied. I hung up and stayed shaking inside my cabin. The beautiful world that I had seen the last day was now again dark. Yes, the moon was still bright, but now, I could only see it as a spotlight shining on me. Spotting me as a target to be attacked.

“Officer Jace Morales, ma’am,” he called out. Then, he continued when he came into my cabin. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I was walking in from my car and someone grabbed me,” I told him. “He had his arm around my throat and in his other hand he had a knife. I stamped on his instep and that broke his hold on me. I ran and he almost caught me, but there was another figure who I saw just as I got to my door. He attacked the first man, but I think he was hurt. Both men ran away.”

“Who taught you that instep trick?” Jace asked me.

“My freshman year at Harvard. They made all the female students take a rape prevention class. That was one of the moves we were taught,” I explained

“That was a mighty fine move, ma’am. It worked, but who was the other man who came to your rescue?” Jace asked.

“I don’t have the slightest idea. He left when the attacker broke free of his grip,” I answered.

Jace peered closer at me. “Ma’am, do you realize you are bleeding?” he asked.

I looked at my left arm. Now that he mentioned it, I felt a burn. There was a tear in my blouse and now it was soaked in blood. “Oh my no. What should I do?” I asked.

“Take your blouse off, ma’am. I can fix it up with first aid, but tomorrow you better get down to the village and get a tetanus shot along with some antibiotics,” Jace ordered.

I removed my blouse. Jace was nothing, but professional as he cleaned the wound. He noticed my questioning look. “Ma’am, Sometimes it is hours to get an ambulance out here. All officers have first aid training, but we have to take ours seriously. We are our own emergency room. From serious automobile accidents to delivering babies, we not only have to fight the bad guys, we also, truly serve the community in times of need.” The local infirmary would not open until morning. Jace had just saved me a painful ride to the next larger town.

Michael

This was the first night I had gotten to bed at any decent time. There was a phone call from Officer Jace Morales. He was a good man. He was just waiting until he got a place at the state police academy. Then he would be out of here, leaving the established officers, who were clearly not up to what was going on.

“Hey Mike. I think an old friend of yours was attacked tonight. Do you know a Liz DeLuca?” he asked.

“How bad is she hurt?” I asked. It took me several seconds. Yes, Liz’s name was now DeLuca. She had married that no good cousin of Maria’s.

“She has a light cut on her arm. She is a pretty spunky gal. She took the assailant out by stamping his instep. There was something strange, though. She claims that the assailant was chasing her when another man stopped him. The baddie got away and the man who stopped him disappeared. Mike, this shit is getting confusing. What does that pal of yours, Pedro, say?” Jace asked.

“He is as confused as we are. He is going to stay awhile and help us. Pedro is pretty smart. Maybe, we can break the case before the feds do.”

“Well, I am going to take a couple turns through the Thunderbird Paradise campgrounds later before I go in tonight,” Jace informed me.

Liz

As it opened, I was at the clinic in LaCueva. I got my shots and was given some antibiotics to take for ten days. Jace’s bandage was changed and they warned me to watch for any signs of infection. On the way out, I stopped at the Forest Roost for lunch. The fresh bandage called the attention of everyone to me. So much for not being noticed. I retold the story dozens of times. Everyone was mumbling things about the recent killings. The whole area was stirred up, but no one had any idea what to do. If the police didn’t know what was happening, how could anyone expect the local villagers to know.
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

User avatar
ken_r
Obsessed Roswellian
Posts: 860
Joined: Wed Oct 04, 2006 11:34 pm
Location: New Mexico

Re: Summer to Remember mature, CC, ch 2, july 5/ 09

Post by ken_r » Sun Jul 12, 2009 2:45 pm

L-J-L 76
destinyc
begonia9508
Jake17
keepsmiling7

Chapter 3

Maria

Toward the weekend I was walking along the path to my cabin. I was thinking about Liz and also, I was thinking about Michael. How could I approach him? Did I just walk up and say, “Hey Michael, I am glad to see you out of the hospital. You were right, the road trip as a singer was just one bed after another. Do you think we could get back together, again?”

That thought was just so lame. So far, I had been completely alone. No one had come near my cabin as far as I could tell. My baby Glock, which I was carrying, was a comfort. One of the men I had lived with was a gun nut. He had taught me how to shoot and then he gave me the Glock. Hey, I found my calling, I was good with the little gun.

My exercise consisted of walking about the cabin. The clearing was beautiful with flowers and a small creek running through it. I say creek. I wonder, in New Mexico we call even little water flows rivers. Many of our rivers can be leapt across without any strain.

The land on which the cabin was located was private land. There was a fence well marked, “Keep Out” and a locked gate at the start of the road. To my surprise, toward evening, I saw someone in the distance. I felt it best to just go back to my cabin and keep quiet. Maybe, it was just a hunter trespassing on posted land, someone who was willing to chance getting caught because he felt that the owner would not be here. If he was a hunter, he was poaching since there were no open seasons for game in the summer. I thought of my rapid exit from St. Louis. Could someone have followed me hear? Could they have traced me in some way?

“They couldn’t have found me, already?” I asked myself. I had only been out to the village a couple of times. The two times that I had seen Liz and twice again to get groceries. I paid cash and I avoided strangers as much I could. From my darkened cabin, I watched the edge of the clearing. Three more times I saw someone at the far edge of he clearing. He acted like a hunter, as if I knew all that much about how hunters acted. For an instant, I had a feeling of relief. A poacher wouldn’t want to see me any more than I would want to see him. The cabin was set back and I don’t think they could see it unless they knew right where to look. I didn’t light any lights the rest of the night.

One of my man friends was a pilot and he had explained about using red lights to not ruin night vision. That came to mind when I saw a red glow on the far side of the clearing. This wasn’t the action of any hunter that I knew. There was no cell phone reception here in the cabin. To call out, you had to walk a mile down the road until you could see the peak where they had built a cell tower. I hadn’t told Liz where I was and so far as I knew only Ed, my old manager, knew exactly where I was living. The red glow traveled back and forth in the distance. It was so dark that I couldn’t tell how far away they were. Using just touch, I found the spare box of cartridges for my Glock. Right beside the box was my spare magazine.

Again, using just the sense of touch, I found some cookies and that was what I had for supper. I didn’t sleep that night. It was with relief when I finally saw the silver line above the mountain to the east. That meant that daylight would soon come. I was still isolated, but the light somehow seemed to make every thing safer. If someone was looking for me, I guess the reality was, that in the day I would be even in more danger. It was just that the ability to see the world, especially in the fresh morning air, drove out some of the fears. It did for a while, but then, the more I thought of strangers in the vicinity, the fear built up again. I was hiding in the cabin. The cabin was equipped with an electric start generator system, but I did not dare start it. The sound was muffled, but in the quiet mountain air the slight engine sound would carry a long way.

The sky was blue. The sun was still behind a mountain and the air was crisp. I walked outside. There was nothing. As far as I could see, I was still alone. The fears of last night now seemed childish. I convinced myself, again, that it was just a hunter or maybe a hiker. I spent the morning doing chores, sweeping the floor, getting something out of the freezer for dinner and falling into my usual routine. I hadn’t had time to sing or play my guitar, but I would do that tonight. There was always something comforting about a guitar. I was thinking that in the next day or so, I might look up Liz. Talking to her had, also, been comforting.

I fixed a salad for lunch and put a small roast in the propane oven. Then, I decided that I should take a walk. That was my usual day. The walks gave me a time to communicate with nature and myself. I took the path that traveled the perimeter of the clearing. When I was half way around the clearing, I looked back to where I knew the cabin was. As I thought, you could see nothing unless you were very near it. Then, I saw something, a fresh boot print and nearby were several cigarette butts. They were fresh, or at least since the last rain. I did know that hunters would be careful about smoking. The smell would scare off game for miles. Could it be a casual hiker? Someone, who was taking in the scenery while smoking a cigarette. Make that several cigarettes. That would imply that he had spent many hours just standing there looking for something. Maybe, the only game was me. Was it the type of hunter who was looking for a person, a person who had witnessed a murder?

I was right. Someone had been here who didn’t belong. I don’t know what made me the most nervous, the foot print or the cigarette butts, which showed someone had stood for some time looking for the cabin. At least I supposed that was their reason. I could only hope they hadn’t found it. I hurriedly retraced my path. As I got close to the cabin, I saw my car under the trees. It looked sort of funny so I approached it. All the fears my mind had conjured up, now arose. All four tires were flat. Each showing a slash in their sidewall. The hood was not latched. I supposed that slamming the hood of a car would have made too much noise. Under the hood, the electrical wires had been ripped off the engine. I was trapped. Any happy feelings I’d had just minutes before, vanished. No longer was the sky a bright blue nor the sunshine warm. There were shadows everywhere I looked. There were strangers in my little paradise, my car had been disabled and I hadn’t told Liz where I was located. She was the only one I knew who cared about me.

My thoughts ran to Michael. If something happened to me, I would never know if I could have come back to him. I would never know if he could ever have forgiven me and taken me back. My mind wandered. The times when I lay in his arms and the strength I felt in them went through my mind. The happy times when we leaned on each other. I always told everyone I was independent and didn’t need anyone. Of course, that was a lie. Here I was, facing I knew not what. There would be no one to come to help me. I would never feel those arms again. What was that song? I think it was Kris Kristofferson who sang it, something about Bobby MaGee. “Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose.” The song had another line that came to mind, “I would trade all my tomorrows for a single yesterday.” That is what was running through my head, those yesterdays. The song was wrong in one point. I did have one more thing to lose. If I lost my life, that would forever cut off tasting any yesterdays.

This caused my thoughts to wander. What did the intruder intend for me? Was he part of the mob who wanted to shut me up? Was he whatever/whoever that was killing the women of this valley? Not much choice, one wanting to kill me for knowing too much, the other wanting to kill me for no reason. I was crying uncontrollably by the time I got back to the cabin. Even the little Glock and the single box of cartridges gave me little comfort. My friend had not taught me what it would be like to face intruders who meant me harm.

Going around, I found that Ed had built the cabin well. He had built strong doors and all the windows were barred so no intruder could get in. He had built this cabin to keep intruders out, but anyone inside, eventually, would have to go outside. I only had a few days worth of groceries and the propane could be cut off from the outside. Cut off the propane and there would go the generator. So eventually, as the batteries ran down, I would have no electricity, no light, no comforts. When the batteries ran down, I would be just living in a furnished cave. I removed the roast. Was that to be my last hot meal?

Michael

I was asking around the village for information about the lady Maria DeLuca. Only Liz knew of her importance to me. For everyone else, I was just on an investigation. The staff at the Forest Roost remembered the woman, but they had no name on her. Yes, they had checked her identity when she was in the bar, but she had paid cash for everything. They remembered the lady at the grocery store, but again, she paid cash. No one had any idea where she was staying. I checked the propane suppliers. No one of her description had ordered any fill up of their propane tanks. “Officer, that isn’t unusual. Most of the cabins have large tanks. They fill them once in the spring and then two or three times in the winter when they use a lot of heating gas,” the driver explained.

They did give me a list of their customers and the locations of the cabins. It would take all of my time for the whole summer to check them all out. I still had the murders to consider. I was in dread, thinking of a call, which would be to investigate a body of an unknown lady, who was a summer resident and who only I would identify, as Maria DeLuca, my Maria. I was in dread of knowing that the warmth that I had known in high school would be lying dead at my feet. There hadn’t been a day passed that I hadn’t missed her in my arms.

I drove by, at least once a day, to check on Liz. Right now, she was my only connection back to Roswell. Somewhere in my mind, some of the effort I spent caring for her was the effort I wanted to spend on Maria. At least, Liz welcomed me worrying about her. I wondered if Maria would have told me to shove off. She always believed she needed no man.

Liz hadn’t had any more trouble. She did say that she thought she was being watched. She didn’t have any proof, just a feeling. Milt Jefferson was the caretaker of he campground. Liz had seen him as just an old man. He was a jovial old fart. Give him a continual supply of beers and a warm fire, he would entertain you with stories that no media could top. Milt had lived that life. He had been a cattle dealer south of the border. I understood that he had worked for the Mexican national police, the Federales. They were a mean outfit. They had been started by an old Prussian during one of the many governments in Mexico in the 1800s. Milt had worked for them investigating aftosa, or hoof and mouth disease. He would go through the villages making the villagers round up their small herds of cows. If any were sick, Milt shot them on the spot and made the owners burn the carcasses. That took a tough man. It was said that he had been a sheriff in some county in the southern part of the state.

Now, he was retired and the caretaker of the campground. Well I noticed that he was wearing a government 45 on his belt. He told me he walked the different paths at night, but he had not seen any one suspicious hanging around. He also said he just had that feeling that someone was watching. I talked to Liz. “Liz, do you have any means of protection?”

“Michael, I am afraid of guns. I have never lived where I needed anything more than the police,” she replied.

Liz was a non resident and it would be next to impossible to get her any firearm. Besides, people who fear guns are their own worst enemy when armed. I would just keep a watch on her and hope Milt did the same.

A Native American girl was killed down south of our jurisdiction. Pedro had me drive down to see the crime scene. Everyone knew Pedro, so we were welcomed. As he thought, the scene was exactly like the ones we had investigated. This was the first murder, which had occurred outside of the Jemez village district. When questioned, the men of the Pueblo were all stone faced. You could tell they were angry. They had their own police department, though when faced with a serious crime, the FBI came in and took over.

I saw Jimmy Yates, the state officer. He was looking at the ground, kicking pebbles around with the toe of his boot. I learned that he had brought the FBI officer to the scene. Jimmy would have a lot of fences to mend after this. There was a man dressed in a suit. His expensive looking Italian shoes were covered in mud and then, a coating of dust and probably cow shit. He was currently shouting at three young Native Americans who were just looking at him with no discernable expression.

“God damned dumb Indians, they can’t even answer a straight question.” He turned with disgust and left with Jimmy. I saw Joseph Martinez, one of the Native American cops. I walked over to him and quietly said, “Hey Joe, I will send you what we have, if you send me your report.”

Joe nodded. The Native American cops were not dumb, but they did demand to be treated as equals. That was something the feds had never learned. Or if they had learned it, they lost it during the civil rights years. During that time, the local law was looked on as the enemy, as was everyone else. Many times, the local law had committed the crimes. I had shared a few beers with Joe and we had met at several accident sites occurring in our shared jurisdiction. I had no trouble treating him just like the officers in my force. Pedro nodded and we left.

“That gringo hasn’t learned a thing since he has been here,” Pedro said. “He still looks down on anyone not from Washington D.C. or the east coast.”

“Well I think Joe will get us the information we need. He is a sharp man and he sees things that a city boy would overlook,” I said.

I dropped Pedro off at his apartment and then, I made a quick trip through LaCueva to Liz’s campgrounds. I spotlighted the place as I cruised through. At one time, I thought I saw a shadow in the trees. When I spotlighted the area, a deer crashed through the brush, but nothing else. I hadn’t thought it was a deer, but seeing is believing and I didn’t question anything further.

I was almost home when I got a call from Harold Johnston, the local representative of the New Mexico Fish and Game. “Michael, are you 10-8?” That meant in service.

“Yeah, Harold, what do you have?” I answered.

“There have been scattered shots heard in this area for a couple nights. Tonight it sounds like Iraq. I think the elk poachers are out with a group and are killing the whole herd. I need to go up there, but if there is a large group, I would like backup,” Harold informed me.

It wasn’t timidity that held Harold back. There was a lot of money in a large elk poaching project. Enough money that one man killed and hidden back in the mountains wouldn’t bother the poachers. I was near Pedro’s place so I called him on my cell phone. “Hey, Pedro, want to shoot some poachers?” I asked.

“Hell yes, Michael, drop by and I will be ready,” he answered.
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

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ken_r
Obsessed Roswellian
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Location: New Mexico

Re: Summer to Remember mature, CC pg3, AN, july 16/ 09

Post by ken_r » Mon Jul 20, 2009 8:25 am

Please read the author note. It is news current as of July 15, 2009.

mary mary
lilLoucfer
Jake17
L-J-L 76
begonia 9508
keepsmiling7
destinyc


Chapter 4

Michael

Pedro was in the car before it stopped sliding in the gravel. Retirement was not agreeing with Pedro at all. He was dressed, as always, in a denim shirt, Levies and a light parka for the night air. I don’t think Pedro had ever owned a pair of shoes. His Tony Lama boots were his trademark.

For a while, I drove with the red light on. I only used the siren when we approached an intersection or when I saw a late farmer still on the road. By the time we were near the San Pedro Mountains, there were four other cars already waiting at the road heading up into the private area residing along side the wilderness.

Harold had his map out and was explaining to the others. Joe Martinez was there, a long way from the reservation. Jimmy Yates, the State officer, along with city marshal, Richard Sanchez from Cuba, New Mexico, (not the island,) who had also answered the call. One of the things I learned was that in rural areas, all departments backed up each other. Many times, even civilians were found to be a welcome addition to any officer who was faced with situations all alone. They were all parked, alongside of Harold’s car. Including Pedro and me, we made six. That was a big enough army to solve most problems. I should have mentioned that the Sandoval county sheriff had given Pedro a commission while he was here. As I said, everyone knew Pedro and they all trusted his abilities as law enforcement.

We would approach with parking lights only. That was slower driving, but we had a better chance of arriving without warning the adversary. As I was following Jimmy’s car, I was talking to Pedro. “Elk poaching is different now. We aren’t after some poor rancher trying to get a side of meat. The whole animal will be parted out for sale. The horns are ground up and sent to Asia for an aphrodisiac. The teeth are sent to curio makers for watch chains or something. The hide goes to tanneries, which don’t say anything about the fresh hides being so far out of elk season. The meat is sold to tourist vacation ranches which want true experiences of dining on elk to be offered to their guests.”

“Yeah, I know. I used to only worry about some poor guy trying to feed his family and overlooked poaching a lot. Taking out a whole herd is just stealing,” Pedro answered.

There was a double click on the law enforcement band of our radios and we all slowed, turning out our lights completely. Stopped and out of our cars, we could hear the shooting. Pedro was the first to speak, “That is not poaching. They are having a gun fight. Listen, that one is a nine millimeter pistol. That is a rifle, probably an assault rifle of some sort. Now that one, is a big game rifle. Someone up there is getting the worst of the deal.” I saw Pedro take out his shoulder arm and, low and behold, it was a Dirty Harry, Smith & Wesson, six inch 44 magnum. Pedro was always ready for bear. Since he usually wore a denim jacket, during th day, this was the first time I had seen what he carried. Only a professional could handle such a weapon. I had always known that Pedro was a professional. As my association with Pedro grew, I was learning more all the time. This was like post-graduate school for a rookie cop like me.

With Harold of Fish and Game leading, the rest of us followed. If there would be no elk being shot, then we would all pitch in to arrest anyone making this much noise and we would be under Jimmy Yates of the state police.

Maria

I had been on or close to the floor most of he night. I had bent low when I took out the last of my cold roast. I brought the platter near to the window where I was watching the trees in front of me. When I had to go, I crawled to the bathroom. It was toward the back of the cabin. The walls, so far, had given it some protection. Visions of fear ran through me. What if this cabin had been truly primitive with an outhouse?

When the first fusillade came through my window, I was on the floor with my hands covering my head. Then, when I raised up and saw a shadow, I fired at it with my Glock. Ducking immediately, I avoided the next onslaught. Now, they did know I was armed. As morning came, it was quiet. That was the problem, it was too quiet. No birds singing or insects buzzing. There was something still nearby. The whole day was quiet. This day did not bring me any peace. I knew that they were waiting for me to come out into the sun.

The next night, things heated up. The calling started. “Maria, come out. We promise not to hurt you,” I heard. I had no intention of coming out. I heard a rattling of the doors and I knew that someone was out there trying them. The window I was firing from had substantial bars on it. There wasn’t much way anyone was getting in that way. I worried about fire. That wasn’t likely. In this dry country the surest way to get attention was to make smoke way back in the forest where it wasn’t expected. In the summer time, a stray smoke in the sky could have the forest service with full fire fighting gear in your front yard. If you are really back in the woods, they might even come from the sky with parachutes.

I was terrified and had been for two days and nights. The two shots I had fired hadn’t had any effect, except to keep them away from this window. Knowing I was armed and willing to fire the gun did make them careful about how they might try to enter the house. The third night was the worst. They started calling me. Sometimes telling me they wouldn’t hurt me and other times describing terrible things they would do to me when they did get me.

“Hey, Maria, you will enjoy it when you are weeth us. Wee will make a lot of love before you die.”

That is what I had been hearing for hours, that fake Hispanic accent. I fired once at the sound, but I figured they wanted me to waste my ammo. I had a little of the roast left. The refrigerator had gone off when the batteries ran down and I couldn’t start the generator. They must have disabled it some way. The daytime was better. They only fired a shot at random intervals at the windows, causing me to keep away from them and to keep low.

From time to time, I would creep to a corner of a window and try to see anything in the clearing just beyond the trees that shielded the cabin. They knew I had a gun, but they had no idea of how good I was with it. They were taking no chances. They couldn’t break in, but they could out last me. No one was going to worry about me. I was on my own. I remembered the number of times I had told Michael that I needed nobody. I was my own woman. That was youth and inexperience talking. How many times had I landed on my butt and had to have someone pick me up since I left Roswell? Yeah, they picked me up and then, they demanded their price. The man who gave me the Glock had rescued me from a fan one night, long after the show had closed. I had been to an all night drugstore buying a box of prophylactics. Hey, I told you I had to look out for my self. You do not know how many times some guy would be with me in the sack and announce that he didn’t have a rubber. When I was on the way back to my motor van, a man stepped out in front of me. I had written a song. My manager, at the time, loved it. It was all about a teasing love until the girl, finally, gave in. It was a song for god’s sakes. This fan took it to heart.

“Maria, I know you wrote that song for me. I will never quit until you finally come to me. I felt you calling me from that song. Maria, I am here. I will always be here,” the man had said with genuine tears in his eyes.

I was wrestling with him, trying to avoid his slobbery kisses. Then, this big man appeared. “Little darling, it looks like you might need some help,” he said and his beefy hand grabbed the fan who was now screaming, “You can’t do this. She is mine, I tell you. She is mine!”

My savior took me to his car and drove me to what I was to learn was his house. On one wall, there was a collection of pictures of women. On the other wall were mounted heads of creatures, animals, most of which I had never seen. I was to learn that this hall was his trophy wall. There were fleeting thoughts of me being there. I wondered on which side? Would I be mounted with the head collections or just have a photograph along with the other women? He walked up behind me. “Call your manager and tell him you will be here for a few days,” he commanded.

He was so forceful that I didn’t even think of refusing him. The fan had un-nerved me and I was very tired. He led me to a room where there was laid out a beautiful nightgown. I wondered what he would want in return, but that night he left me alone. My manager knew that I had been burning too much candle at both ends. He welcomed the rest and rescheduled the next month’s programs. There was no question of why I was resting at a strange man’s home.

When I awoke, there were set out for me designer jeans, soft moccasins and a loose fitting blouse along with underwear which, surprisingly, fit. I dressed and came out to see what I had gotten myself into. Leonard Von Cleff was his name and he was remarkably pleasant. I couldn’t see that he did anything to make a living. We talked, listened to music, drove around his ranch and dined that evening on a delicious meal. I never saw who served the meal or who put out my things in the mornings. Everything just happened like magic. That night I ended up naked in his bed, from then on, his room was my room. There was no statement made or anything. Things just seemed to happen around him.

“Darling, you need some protection,” he said.

I looked up, “I am on the pill. It is supposed to be 98% protective.”

“Oh no, Darling, that is not what I mean. You need to know how to protect yourself from men like that fan the other night,” He clarified.

That day found us on his private shooting range. He was so gentle as he taught me to not fear pistols. He, constantly, told me they were just tools like my hair dryer. “But, my hair dryer doesn’t kill people,” I stated.

“Oh, darling, don’t repeat those tired things from those sissies you have been living with. Guns don’t kill people, they just tell bad people that ‘you’ will kill them, if they don’t back off,” he instructed.

That was where I was now. The bad people were doing everything they could to kill me. Knowing that I had some sort of weapon, told them that they had to work to kill me. They were not going to just walk in and take my life as I cowered in the corner.

Well, I was doing a lot of cowering, but when they finally, found a way to get in, I intended to make them earn my life. I was going to have company when I died.

I took a quick look out the window. The sun was low in the sky. I couldn’t see it, but it was getting darker outside. There, about fifty yards out, the bushes were moving. I quickly put two rounds where I saw movement. I heard laughing. They were just making me waste ammunition. They had all the time in the world.

I heard something in the kitchen. I quickly turned around, My Glock at ready. It was just a mouse who was tired of the noise and movement outside the cabin. I guess he decided that the Maria he was used to, was better than those strangers who were tramping on his territory outside. My nerves were raw. I started to cry. That wasn’t a change. I had been going through these crying fits the last two days. I wasn’t going to make it. I was going to die. Those men would wear me down until my mind broke. There wouldn’t be any final shootout. They would just come in and take my limp body. They would probably take turns raping me. I wouldn’t even know it. My body would be mindless as they, finally, put a bullet through my head. A bullet through the head, is that the way they did it? I thought, I was sure, that these men were from the mob. They were contract killers.

There was something else out there. All the times, I had been to the village there had been talk about the serial killer. This one was not connected with any mob. He killed and abused for just the fun of it. The storekeepers had mildly inquired if the place I was living was safe. I assured them it was without giving way where the cabin was. What if the mob killers just pulled back and allowed the hobby killer to take me? I am sure I would suffer a lot more if they did that. The mob didn’t care how I died just so I died and couldn’t be forced to testify. I caught random cat naps. I hadn’t had a night’s sleep since I first saw the strangers outside. With the darkness, also came the renewed calling from whoever this was. “Maria, Mariiia,” the voice called. “Wee weel have you, chica.” Why wouldn’t they quit that worthless accent? I speak perfect Spanish and I know a real accent from a fake. This one was as fake as an honest politician. “Oh, Maria, Wee have a beeg one for you,” the voice called again. Then, there was that insane laughter, followed by a fusillade through the windows. The intervals between the harassments were decreasing. I was completely fatigued. Every time I started to doze off, the calls followed by the laughter and the gunfire came. This was to be my last night alive.

Then, I heard it, not a shot but a boom, boom. They had brought in a cannon and would blow my walls down. The canon was followed by shots and then, more shots from a different gun. I didn’t know anything about guns, but I had learned that they all have different sounds. There were four shots very close together, then a scream. The scream was echoing those I had made all day. The scream kept up. Then, it went to just a moaning. Were there two factions now fighting for my body. I now had value. Two different groups wanted to despoil my body. It was always about my body. I was sure neither group had any interest in me as a person.

The new shooting was closer to the cabin. I would hear, from time to time the cannon, but so far, no walls had been breached. My mind was spinning. I didn’t know what to do. I picked up the Glock and wondered if I should cheat all of them and just take my own life.
----------------------------
Genes of the King
Special Unit
Curse of the Cat
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

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ken_r
Obsessed Roswellian
Posts: 860
Joined: Wed Oct 04, 2006 11:34 pm
Location: New Mexico

Re: Summer to Remember mature, CC pg3, Ch 4, july 20/ 09

Post by ken_r » Sun Jul 26, 2009 5:08 pm

Author's note
ALBUQUERQUE (KRQE) - The burglar killed in a gunfight that also claimed a sheriff's deputy last week has been indentified as the prime suspect in the killing of a young couple in Canada 27 years ago.

However his death leaves unresolved a possible link to the 2004 murder of another young couple, this time in California, leaving the father of one of the victims still waiting for justice.

On Monday New Mexico State Police said the Jemez Mountain burglar known for years only as the Cookie Bandit was Joseph Henry Burgess. He'd been wanted since Canadian investigators tied him to the 1972 murders of a young couple camping near Tofino on the west coast of Vancouver Island.
http://www.krqe.com/dpp/news/crime/crim ... 0907201315
They are now tying him to several other murders. It seems that the name "Cookie Bandit" was so cute that some residents may have been helping him hide.

destinyc
begonia9508
keepsmiling7

Chapter 5

Michael

Pedro motioned for Sanchez, they went away from the direction where we had parked the cars. Pedro took a seat against a tree and waited until he saw a flash back in the woods. His knees were bent and his elbows were resting on his knees. He pressed his back firmly against the tree and let loose two shots at the place where he saw the flash. That big 44 sure could roar. That cannon boomed and then, repeated itself. In the starlight, I saw Pedro roll away from his position right after the second shot.

Whoever was at the receiving end of those big bullets surely took notice. They fired as fast as they could at where the flash had been seen from Pedro’s pistol. Sanchez was the best deer hunter in Cuba. It was reported that he was a competitive shooter while in the National Guard. He worked that Springfield four times. The bullets from the 30/06 plowed right where the flashing was coming from. We were rewarded with a scream.

From that time on, every time anyone shot our in direction, we would return heavy fire. We moved every time we fired and were rewarded with several cries. Finally, there was silence. Martinez and Sanchez both took off. I noticed that they both were wearing moccasins and had placed their boots in one of the cruisers. The soft shoes would allow a woodsman, which they both proved to be, to travel silently. It was thirty minutes when they finally returned.

“There are four down, the rest have pulled out,” Sanchez said.

I knew we would pick up the wounded when we had secured the cabin.

Jimmy Yates called out, “Hello, the cabin. We are the police.” He was rewarded by a shot from a medium pistol.

“Whoever is in there is probably scared shitless,” Pedro stated.

I had an idea. “Look fellows, whatever you do, don’t return fire. Let me be, even if I am hit,” I stated.

I walked up close to the cabin keeping away from the dark window we thought the shot had come from. “Maria, Maria, it is me, Michael,” I called.

There was a silence. “How do I know it is really you, Michael?” she called out.

“Damn it, Maria, you tried to kill me once with a fucking frying pan. This time if you shoot me, it is the big house for sure. Put the damned gun down and come out,” I shouted.

Pedro whispered, “You know this broad?”

“I answered, “Yeah, she tried to kill me years ago. We go back a long way.” I noticed that Pedro and the others got even lower to the ground with this information.

I saw the door crack open. I also heard the click of Pedro cocking his revolver. “Pedro, don’t, I know what I am doing,” I said. Then, I whispered to myself, “I hope I do.”

Maria

The shooting got more intense. There were fewer bullets coming in my window now. They were firing at each other. Finally the shooting stopped. I could hear them talking outside. Someone called, “Hello the cabin. We are the police.” I knew that one. As if I would fall for something like that. I raised up, just enough to fire through the window. It didn’t matter where I fired. I was almost out of shells. I just was making a statement. I would save a bullet for myself, if I decided to go that way.

“Maria, Maria, it is me Michael,” as if I would fall for that one either. My mind was spinning. If they knew all about ‘me and Michael, then I was almost through.

“How do I know it is really you, Michael?” I said. What if it was Michael? Was he one of those who was trying to kill me? I had been arrested for attempted murder when I hit him long ago. In my mind, I could see irrationally, that maybe, he was still angry and he had been part of this plot, all along.

“Damn it, Maria you tried to kill me once with a fucking frying pan. This time if you shoot me, it is the big house for sure! Put the damned gun down and come out,” he shouted.

If he wanted to kill me, then so be it. I loved Michael and I was a fool to have left him. I put my Glock on the table, opened the door and stepped out. I was going to be brave. Let him shoot me and I would accept that. When I saw him straight and tall, wearing the uniform of the Jemez Police, I couldn’t stand it any longer. Any resolve to be brave just went south. I crumpled in his arms. As I was falling into his arms, I saw several other officers, including one not in any uniform, rise out of the shelter they had taken.

Michael

I had her in my arms. I didn’t know what I was going to do with her. I would let the other officers take the prisoners to the infirmary in Cuba and then, to the jail in Bernalillo. Sandoval County was so large that just getting the prisoners where they belonged was difficult. If they were seriously wounded, they would have to go all the way to Albuquerque.

Pedro and I were in the front. Maria was so out of it that I placed her in the back behind the protective screen. Most of our cruisers have a screen to protect the driver from the prisoners. I wrapped a blood blanket around her to keep her warm. It was fairly clean. I had used that blanket at only a few accidents. As we were driving out, Pedro looked at me and asked, “She tried to kill you once?”

“Yeah, we were a couple all through high school. It was probably my fault. Maria wanted to go on a singing tour and I had hoped that we would go to college together. When she said being on tour would be so much fun, I answered that she just wanted to see how many roadies she could fuck. She gave me a concussion. The police arrested her for attempted murder. When I woke up in the hospital, I refused to say that Maria had done that to me. When she was released, she just left town. We were all messed up in high school. Only one of our group stayed together.” I had told Pedro our whole story.

Pedro looked at me as I drove, trying to miss as many potholes as possible, “You weren’t always a smart man, were you Michael?”

I had to laugh the way at he said it. “No, Pedro, I guess my younger days lacked in tact or something.” I was still wondering what was I going to do with Maria?

Maria

It was dark all around me. In front, I could feel a hot breath on me. From behind, it was a cold wind that blew up my spine. Standing there in the dark, I could see Michael rising out of the dark and then he pointed his pistol at me. Just as he shot I woke up. I had been jolted, by the car, hitting a rut or something. Curled up, on the rear seat, I soon fell back asleep to repeat the same dream.

Michael

We were approaching LaCueva. We would pass the campground. I slowed the cruiser. I had an idea. It depended on how Liz would cooperate. “Pedro, I am going to stop a few minutes. Maybe, I can get a friend to take care of Maria. She shouldn’t be alone for a while,” I said. I made enough noise slamming the car door to let Liz know that a car was out front. I called, “Hello the house.” That was the proper way in the southwest to approach a house at night. Just pounding on a door could get you shot. I knew that Liz didn’t have any gun, but I still felt the need of propriety.

I heard movement in the cabin. “Who is there?” she called out.

“It is me, Michael,” I answered.

I stepped back and the door opened a crack. A bright light shown through the opened door. Then, I heard, “What is wrong, Michael?”

“Liz, It’s about Maria. I need to talk to you.” I explained.

I heard more movement. Then, the door opened and a lamp was lit. Liz stood framed in the light of the lantern. She was clothed in a robe, but the light outlined her slender body. Just how could Max do that to her? That had never made any sense. Well, how could I have allowed Maria to get away from me? I guess we were all stupid back then. “Liz, Maria was in a situation,” I started.

Liz quickly responded, “What kind of situation, Michael.”

“She was trapped in a cabin. We don’t know the story yet, but we think it was for several days. I don’t want to leave her alone. Can she stay here? I know you are trying to sort your own troubles out, but she needs help.” Leave it to Liz. She was always ready to give help to others. Pedro opened the car door and I introduced him to Liz. He held the door as I gathered Maria in my arms. I carried her in as she snuggled against me. I almost wished I could have taken her home. Not now. This was not the time for that. Maybe, we could talk later but right now she needed security.

Liz led us into her bedroom and indicated the far side of her bed. It was a king sized bed, so there was plenty of room. I placed Maria on the bed and removed her shoes. “She hasn’t had a shower for several days. Tomorrow, I will come by and take her back to the cabin to get her clothes. Tonight, if you can just make her comfortable, it would help,” I told Liz.

Liz came back into the room, with a voluminous dressing gown which probably would fit Maria in its shapeless form. Liz said, “Help me get her to sit up, Michael.”

I lifted Maria to a sitting position as Liz stripped off her blouse and bra. I started to turn my head when Liz retorted, “Michael, you slept with Maria enough to not be embarrassed. Help me get her dressed.”

Yes, I had held the body of my love many times, her bare flesh in my hands. I had felt the softness squeeze between my fingers as we addressed our two bodies. Now, without her permission, it was so much like a violation, that I was hesitant. Also, there was the presence of her best friend. I wasn’t into group sex and the two of us manipulating her body, stirred up this feeling. “Lift her up, Michael,” Liz ordered.

I lifted Maria as Liz pulled her slacks and panties off. Once that was accomplished, I carefully laid her back in bed. Liz escorted me back to the door and I said, “Good Night.”

Pedro had little to say as I drove him home. We had had quite a night. We started out to stop an elk poaching and ended up saving the woman who once tried to kill me. The only woman I had ever loved.

Maria

I woke up. My mind was filled with gunshots and threats of death. I ran my hands all over my body. I was alive.

The sun was streaming in the window. It was a window that I did not remember ever having seen. Where was I? Had they captured me and placed me somehow in a cell? Was I someone’s prisoner? I sat up with a cry. Then, I saw a sight I thought I would never see again. Liz walked into the room carrying a steaming mug of coffee, cream and two sugars, just like I always took it. She had walked in without any hesitation so I must not be a prisoner. “How are you feeling, Maria,” she said.

I accepted the coffee and leaned back against the wall. “What happened?” I asked.

“That is what we need to find out,” she stated. “Michael will be here in a few hours to take you back to get your clothes. He has asked that you stay with me for a few days.”

I looked up. How could I face that place again? “Chica, will you go with us?” I requested.

“Sure, I will, Maria. You should be thinking about what to say to Michael when he arrives. He said there was quite a gunfight at your cabin last night,” Liz stated.

“Yeah, last night and several nights before. It is going to take a while before I form a complete story that can have any truth to it.” I had to figure out for myself what had happened. Michael would need the information for his investigation, but I needed to understand for my own peace.

Liz

Maria was clearly confused when she awoke. We talked for a time about last night. I now understood that she had been in terror for several nights. Maria might need professional attention. This was a real trauma she had experienced. Michael had told me to call him when Maria was ready. I was searching through my things to find her something to wear and I decided on another house gown much like I found for her last night. She could get underwear when we went back to the cabin. For now, maybe the freedom of the gown would feel all right. First, of course, she badly needed a hot shower.

It was almost noontime when Maria, dressed in the gown and fresh from the shower, was more herself. “Chica, you do not know how good that hot water feels. I was sure I would never see any of you again. I was so sure I would never have another chance with Michael.” She babbled on. But, I thought, she had earned the right to babble for a while.

“Maria, Michael is helping you now, but you are going to have to talk with him soon. You need to come to terms with what happened to you back in Roswell.” As I was saying this a vision of Max ran through my head. I shook my head, both figuratively and actually. No, my situation with Max was different. Max had betrayed me. He had, when we were supposed to be the closest, slept with Tess. That had to be different. Maria had only been arrested for attempted murder of Michael. Were they that different? Yes, for one, Michael was here, as was Maria. I had no idea where Max was and I kept telling myself that I didn’t care. As for the gerbil, I wasn’t wishing on her, different poxes, but I still did not wish her well.

I called Michael and he said he would be by within the hour.
-----------------------
genes of the King
Special Unit
Curse of the Cat
Traitor
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

User avatar
ken_r
Obsessed Roswellian
Posts: 860
Joined: Wed Oct 04, 2006 11:34 pm
Location: New Mexico

Re: Summer to Remember mature, CC pg3, Ch 5, july 26/ 09

Post by ken_r » Sun Aug 02, 2009 3:52 pm

L-J-L 76
begonia9508
Xmag
keepsmiling7
destinyc
mary mary

Chapter 6

Michael

Now, I had to face Maria. Last night, I was rescuing her. Today in the light of day, I am sure she thinks differently of me. The tabloids told of her many romances while on the road. It seems that when I said she just wanted to sleep with many roadies, I wasn’t that far off, but that was in her past. Now, the least I must see is that she is a woman who was at the heart of an investigation.

There were just too many murders in this county. A little town, just north of the San Pedro wilderness area called Loma Coyote, reported an attempted rape. A girl of the town was accosted as she walked home a few nights ago. It took this long for the story to filter down to the police. When the girl was grabbed, she screamed. The history of the town was that it was a collection of outlaws in the 1800s. Most of that little town was armed and they all turned out and the woman was allowed go free. The man disappeared into the night in a hail of 30/30 bullets.

Liz helped Maria out to the car. Maria was wearing another of those voluminous gowns that Liz had given her last night. As she walked in the sunlight, I could see that she was wearing nothing under it. The way it swished about her body gave evidence of the same. I felt a tightening in my groin. It had been a Spartan life for me since she left. I just didn’t want any other woman. Now, what was going to happen? Liz placed Maria in the front seat and then, she slid in against the door. That forced Maria’s body tightly against mine. I reached across Maria’s lap to fasten her seat belt. Again, I felt the nakedness under the gown.

Sanchez and Martinez had stayed at the cabin until daylight. They both were excellent trackers. They reported that there were several men, maybe as many as eight or ten. They also reported there was somebody else who had disappeared back into the mountain. There was no report yet about the prisoners. That would have to wait until someone had time to interrogate them.

We drove up to the cabin, the locked gate had been broken. That is why we didn’t notice it last night. Liz and Maria busied themselves inside packing up what Maria owned to return to Liz’s cabin. I didn’t have any idea what Maria would eventually do. I knew that Liz had many troubles and she had intended to straighten her life out this summer. Maybe, she would be happy to see Maria settled somewhere else.

As I walked back in the trees, the peace and quiet of the forest brought back dangerous thoughts to me. I say quiet of the forest, but this time it was a natural quiet. The buzzing of insects, the calls of birds did not disturb the tranquility of the setting. Now, those dangerous thoughts, I remembered the softness of her body. I remembered my hands being allowed to travel in forbidden places and more than allowed, I was encouraged to experience her whole person. Yes, it had been a long time.

I interrupted that reverie as I bent to the ground. Here was a spot of blood. The ants had already arranged their clean up. Scattered around were countless 5.56 cartridges showing that this fellow was carrying a semi auto rifle of some sort. There were two large scars in a tree trunk near by. That is what happens when a 44 magnum collides with wood. I am sure the culprit was scared out of his wits when those bullets of Pedro’s came that close, out of the night.

My thoughts were all interrupted when I heard a call from the cabin. I returned. Maria was already in the car and Liz was waiting for me. “Michael, we need to get her back to my cabin. She is still traumatized from last night. From what I have learned so far, I don’t see how she stood up that long. Michael, she says that she was under constant assault for over four days and nights. She told me that she had no idea that you would even be willing to save her. Michael, you both are going to have to talk. Not yet, but soon. Michael, if there is anything left you both need to find it. If not, you need to find some peace between yourselves.”

I wondered if Liz was only speaking to me. There were a lot of things she needed to settle, also. No one knew where Max was, nor did anyone have a reasonable reason for his behavior so long ago. I saw Kyle all through college down at Las Cruces, but he never once mentioned Tess. I noticed that though Kyle dated a lot and I imagine got laid a lot, he never had anything permanent. I think Tess hurt Kyle a lot more than he would ever admit. I wondered why Tess would give in to what she knew was only temporary. Why would she throw away what she could have had with Kyle? We all were so immature and foolish then.

Maria

Seeing that cabin was almost more than I could stand. I entered and the first thing I picked up was my Glock. I saw Liz frown. “Look, Liz, this is the only thing that made them not storm the cabin. They didn’t know how much ammunition I had and they did not want any casualties in their group.” She seemed to accept this but I do not think she agreed with me. Sometimes, it takes strong measures to make people change their minds.

We collected my clothes and personal things including my guitar. I wanted to be away from that cabin as soon as possible. This was to be my grave. Every second I stayed, I thought that I still might wake up and see myself about to be murdered. Liz called and in a few minutes Michael returned. I saw them talking out of my hearing. I don’t know what they were saying. Michael had been walking in the forest so he might have learned something new. When we were finally back at Liz’s place Michael helped move my stuff into the cabin. Then he was back to work and on patrol. The closet in the bedroom was fairly large, so Liz shoved her clothes over and gave me half.

Liz

Taking care of Maria caused me to put my troubles on hold. I don’t know if this was for the best or not. When Maria picked up that pistol, chills ran through my body. I had never lived in a way where having protection like that was necessary. I admit that Maria having that little gun probably did delay her attackers until help arrived. Thinking about what Michael and Maria were going to do, did make me think about my situation. I had just gotten out of a divorce. It wasn’t finalized for some time yet, but I considered it final because I surely wasn’t going to change my mind. Sean was in jail and not apt to get out for some time. If and when he got out, I wanted it clear that I did not want anything to do with him. For some reason, thoughts of Max seeped into my mind again. I jumped on them, trampling them back into the abyss where they belonged. It was just being with Michael and now, Maria that brought back things of Roswell.

I talked to Milt Jefferson and I explained that Michael had brought Maria down from a cabin back in the mountains where she had been attacked. I didn’t know how long she would be staying with me. Then, I asked if he could fix up the storage room as a separate bedroom and find us another bed. He stroked his chin as he always did when he was thinking. “Yes, I suppose I could. Since Michael brought that woman down, I suppose I shouldn’t charge you any more for double occupancy. You know, supporting our lawmen and such.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jefferson, I really do not have any more money,” I told him and he nodded his head. I hadn’t even thought of double occupancy. I had always had a lease that let me do about whatever I wanted to where I lived. Of course, if I damaged anything I had a substantial deposit down that would be used to cover it. Mr. Jefferson left saying that he would get to the other bedroom in a few days.

Michael

It had been a week since I brought Maria to Liz’s place. I stopped and talked a few times, but neither of us were ready to face what, eventually, we must. Liz had pulled me aside and cautioned me to be patient if I still cared for Maria and if I wanted to have nothing to do with her, to wait until she was stronger to tell her so. Either way, we both needed more time.

The FBI report came in. The Native American girl, had been killed by a transient, according to their investigation. Probably, they wouldn’t solve the case for some time. I talked to Martinez and he told me the tribe was sure it was the same person who had been molesting women all around the county. He was sure that the indication was that it was the same person who was at Loma Coyote. For the tribe, murder was an FBI matter, but the tribe had told Martinez to investigate on his own. He was convinced that there were outsiders at the cabin where Maria was trapped, but he said that there was evidence that someone else was there, also. It was someone from around here.

I talked with Milt Jefferson. I thanked him for his consideration with Liz. He just nodded and said it was his civic duty. He said he hadn’t had time to fix up the separate room, yet because he had been patrolling the campgrounds. He said that there were indications that more than one person had been prowling around.

It was starting July and this was the monsoon season. Now in New Mexico, some years the monsoon season could be like saying it is Saturday or it is Washington’s Birthday, that is just a name. Other years, the true monsoon came in and we would have a rain every afternoon. Then, especially if they had a hurricane down in Mexico, we could have weather of biblical proportions. Remember, it took 40 days to destroy the world in the Near East, but in New Mexico we could have terrible floods if it rained hard for 40 minutes. Sometimes, it would rain steadily, like it did back east, for several days. That would cause roads to wash out and services to come down. That was all right for most of the mountain since the cabins had their own systems. In civilized places such as LaCueva and the Thunderbird Paradise campground, they were definitely on the grid. Remember, they even had Internet connections.

The weathermen in Albuquerque were having a field day. They were predicting a gully washer. In the mountains, that meant that many of our roads up the slopes would become gullies until the graders could get in to open up the roads.

Friday was clear with promised clouds in the afternoon. By midnight, the western part of the state should be receiving moisture. Saturday was promised to be a real storm. Everyone was gearing up to face it. Three o’clock that afternoon, the word came in. Milt Jefferson had been shot by someone, using a high-powered rifle. He was alive, but the ambulance had taken him to Albuquerque.

I drove by three times that night to check on Liz and Maria. They had brought in plenty of firewood and although this cabin wasn’t as tight as the one Maria had left, they seemed to be secure. Liz had set out two Coleman gas lanterns, in case the electricity went out. I was on duty for the duration. Both day shift and night shift were called in. Days off, were canceled to be replaced later with comp time. We were in for a bad one.

Liz

I had read about mountain storms. Lightening striking at 10,000 feet altitude, looks a lot different than it does down on the flats. The lightening is closer. There is no 5 seconds from lightening and thunder, which tells you it is a mile away but the lightening is right here. I heard that the forest service runs from one small fire to the next. They almost always get all of them out before they get big, but it is still a worry. The wind had risen by midnight and Maria and I, in our warmest pajamas, crawled into bed and huddled together. We figured to sleep out the storm. We had heard the shot that hit Mr. Jefferson this afternoon. We couldn’t think of a reason why someone would shoot him. Tomorrow, they would probably send somebody else to take his place, but for now, we were on our own.

Maria

Only when we pulled the covers over our heads was it more comforting to be in bed. Every time the lightening struck, it made shadows on the windows of the trees and other things that reminded me of someone coming to get me. Liz told me that I was foolish that Michael had scared the men who wanted to kill me away. I certainly hoped so. If I looked out the windows, the flashes lit up the whole mountain in an unworldly light. There I could see goblins and other monsters always shadowed by the real monsters, those who had attacked me. I could imagine a whole army approaching our cabin. Wind through pines vibrates the needles. On a normal day, even light breezes will make the pine trees sigh. As the winds speed increases, the pines positively sing. In a storm like we were facing, the pines were all screaming. They were screaming for us. Telling us that we were in great danger. I could cower under the covers and shut my eyes to the lightening, but the thunder and the screaming wind was still with me. Once I looked out and in the distance I saw a figure. This was a campground. There were others living here so the sight of a stranger was not that unusual. When the next strike happened, the figure had disappeared. In the distance, I could hear a siren. Maybe Michael was being called to some place to save some soul.

As I saw it, I had two problems, well, one problem with two outcomes. What was I going to do with either? Michael could sit down with me and tell me how much he missed me and how he was willing to not hold what happened in the past against me. Now, if he does that, what am I going to do? I went on the singing tour instead of college. I lost all the money I ever made there, so what do I have to offer either him or my self.

Michael could sit down and explain that we are both adults and we should act like adults. We both have changed from the people we were back in high school. He would always care for me, but there was just too much water under the bridge for us to get back together. Then, what will I do. If I go back on the tour, I know that it is just going from being kept by one man to the next. I lacked skills to even manage my own earnings. The people who were hired to handle my affairs, stole everything I made. I know that if the men who killed Vinny had known I was in the other room they would have killed me right then, along side my current benefactor. It is obvious that I need help from someone I can trust. The only man I ever could trust, would be Michael and he probably wants to move on with his life.

The lightening struck twice in succession. It hit right outside our window. I got up to see if there was any fire or anything we should worry about. In the next flash, what I saw, I would prefer fire. There were three cars parked on the road that led to the cabin. Surrounding the cars were at least six or more men. They were standing around in the storm, pointing toward the cabin. “Liz,” I called out. “We have trouble.”
---------------------
genes of the King
Special Unit
Curse of the Cat
Traitor
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

User avatar
ken_r
Obsessed Roswellian
Posts: 860
Joined: Wed Oct 04, 2006 11:34 pm
Location: New Mexico

Re: Summer to Remember mature, CC pg4, Ch 6, Aug 2/ 09

Post by ken_r » Sun Aug 09, 2009 4:03 pm

keepsmiling7
begonia9508
destinyc
mary mary


Chapter 7

Michael

There was a call from a cell phone. The connection was bad, but finally, they got the message across. There was a major pile up on the road leading to Los Alamos. Several people were feared dead and maybe, several more were injured. We started the ambulance, wrecker and two cars from Jemez police force. It was understood that someone would start from Los Alamos and head towards us. We would all meet at the accident scene. Let me explain. The Jemez Mountains are bordered by two main highways, one on the east and the other on the west. The Jemez Mountains are a series of volcanoes that blew their top millions of years ago. Right at the top of the mountain chain is one of the biggest calderas in the world. That is a large volcanic crater. Running north, right up the middle of the mountains is a highway, which goes through the major towns on the mountain and divides at the top. To the west the road goes through LaCueva and on to Cuba. To the east, the road goes to the atomic city where they made the first atomic bomb. Then, it continues on to meet the eastern highway and return to Santa Fe. The accident was supposed to be on the road to Los Alamos. In this weather, under the present conditions of the road, this could be a bitch.

On the way about half way to Los Alamos, we met the Los Alamos city unit. He was slowly driving, shining his spotlight off the road. We stopped. The rain was coming down in streams. It was difficult to see. He had two other units also looking for indications of a wreck. We all just sat there, the wrecker, ambulance, our unit and several other units. A couple of units backtracked slowly, using their spotlights to see if they could find some place where a car might have driven off the road. There had been so many stories about accidents going off the highway and it had been days before they were found. We were being really careful.

We spent about two hours looking as carefully as we could. There just wasn’t any indication of any accident in this area. About that time, a forest service truck drove up. “Hey, guys. Is there any sign of an accident? We got the call and we wanted to be here in case of any car fire. We have to check a couple of the side roads that the fire spotters have called in. If we see anything, we will give you a call,” they said.

We were standing around talking. I called the Jemez station, “We can’t find anything up here. Any chance this call was a prank?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” they answered. “We got a call from the electric company that a transformer poll was hit by lightning, near LaCueva. They say that electricity is out there and points north and west.”

I hadn’t stopped for Pedro. I wished now I had. His opinion would have been welcomed. Suddenly, I thought, electricity is out at the Thunderbird Paradise campground. I wonder if Liz and Maria are all right.

Liz

As I looked out the window, I knew how Maria had felt for so many days. We were in a secluded part of the campground and the only one who could help us was lying in a hospital in Albuquerque. It came to me. That is why he was shot. Either Maria or I were targeted for death. My first brush with death, I had won. That is, I had won with the help of some unknown assistance. My benefactor had disappeared as fast as my attacker. Now, there were no classes that I had taken which would help. We were faced with a determined group who wanted to do us wrong. I heard a metallic click. I turned, it was just Maria checking the load in her pistol. “Chica, we may go down, but I want a lot of company with us if we do,” she said.

I had to admire her courage. I don’t know from where she got it. We both were raised in Roswell and neither of us ever had needed to protect ourselves. I guess that is where Maria’s courage came from. She had been battered around for the last few years. That had toughened Maria considerably. I thought of the sirens I had heard earlier. The police, even if we could reach them, would be a long ways away by now. They would probably be embroiled in the task of saving someone hurt in a car wreck. I looked around the room. It was dark. There were no tattle tale lights showing that the appliances were connected to electricity, nor was there a light in the phone dial. The phones were down as well. I had tried my cell when I first got here. I already knew it wouldn’t work.

My mind went back to the darkest times I had had with Sean. There were times when I did consider taking my own life. I wasn’t equipped to handle the scandal of what he had done. He had cheated people who had never done him any harm. He had cheated me. It had been like a new life when I broke free. Even though the divorce wouldn’t be final until the end of summer, just filing it, revitalized me. When I was attacked before it had been so fast that I hadn’t had time to think. Now, things were moving in slow motion. Maria and I knew their intentions, but we were relatively helpless to do anything. That is, I was helpless.

Maria slowly opened the window through which we were looking. I didn’t know what her intentions were, but I silently cheered her on. I gasped as I saw someone strike their lighter. I could see one man was holding a bottle of something and the other was lighting a cloth hanging out of it. I had seen enough movies to know what a Molotov cocktail was. The cloth was lit. I could see it flame up. The bottle would be filled with gasoline and when they threw it against the cabin it would go up in flames. This was unlike where Maria was before. There, they avoided fire because they intended to wait Maria out. Here, they intended to make fast work of ridding the world of us.

Maria shoved me aside as she pointed her pistol out the window. She fired twice. The first shot hit the bottle and the second hit the man in the lower abdomen, maybe even the groin. He went down in flames, screaming. In the lightening flashes, we saw them covering him with blankets to put out the fire. Soon, the screams subsided and we were only left with groans as he lay in the storm. I had trouble feeling any sorrow for him.

They all pulled back behind their cars. There was no firing. Too much noise might wake someone who would take exception to their actions, attacking two helpless women.

I kept thinking as I heard the groans that Maria and I would be in the same position if they had thrown the bomb. I had always feared fire. I do not know why, but those irrational times when I couldn’t sleep were, many times, filled with dread of dying in a fire. I heard Maria whisper. “Chica, we are in trouble. I didn’t get that new box of ammunition I had intended to. I have two full magazines and less than half a box of cartridges left.”

That didn’t brighten my feelings any. I remember the fear when Maria insisted on bringing her Glock with us. I wasn’t raised around firearms; well neither was Maria. Maria had, through necessity, learned to take care of herself. I only wished that I would be given a chance to learn likewise.

I know that I was getting very close to being very irrational. The stress was telling on me. I had the humorous thought that, if I died, Sean would win. He wouldn’t be divorced from me. I would be buried under the name Elizabeth DeLuca and not Elizabeth, Liz, Parker which I would have preferred. Maria was still keeping vigilance at the window, but I was sitting , my back against the wall, holding my knees. My mind was racing and getting nowhere. When I’d had thoughts of suicide before, they went no further than thoughts of being free from my troubles. Now, my thoughts of death were taking on a macabre turn. When they finally shot me, would I feel terrible pain? If they executed me as professionals, would they shoot me in the head, bringing on death instantaneously? What was instantaneous? In that final last flash as my life was blown away, what would I feel? Much later this thought would really haunt me. Would my soul float away as in the movies? Did I even have a soul? There was no proof. The only thing I knew about after death was from my childhood religious training. Was that strong enough to carry me through the experience?

It was comforting to be with Maria, but hopes of rescue were becoming more and more faint. Who would rescue us? We would die in this storm and Michael would be forced to face the loss of Maria and also, figure out what happened to us.

Maria

I got that one and I hope his pain was great. I was tired of others trying to take things, like my life, away from me. When I was living with my gun toting benefactor, I had the experience of firing many different weapons. He had enjoyed training me and seeing, how I progressed. I just liked the ease of the little nine millimeter Glock. That is what he presented to me the day that he informed me that his wife was back in the States and would be coming home soon. Now, I wished I had taken something bigger. Well, taking care of that little pistol had been difficult as it was. Something bigger probably would have gotten me into real trouble. When I left his house I had the Glock to remember him and he had a picture of me on the trophy wall.

I am worried about Liz. She just sits and rocks back in forth against the wall. I think she is losing it. She told me she had had a hard time of it. My daddy had left without me ever understanding. I guess that his brother wasn’t much better if the result of his life was to raise Sean. Sean was self-centered and always thought he was smarter than everyone else. He couldn’t envision ever getting caught. He couldn’t believe there was anyone who could outsmart him. That last year, for Liz, must have been hell.

Yes, I am worried about Liz, but I am worried, also, about my own life. I didn’t have near the fort here, like I had when I was back at Ed’s cabin. True, we were closer to help than I was before, but in this storm, would that help be found? I, now, fully understood the reason that old man Mr. Jefferson had been shot. Someone wanted to remove any immediate help from us. This was way too carefully thought out. They couldn’t subject us to the constant firing that I had endured back at the other cabin. That would be too much noise. They might find a way to get in and stop me. Then, we would be at their mercy. I was sure that I was the target, but now, I was wondering, was I the only one who had enemies?

The Watcher

I had heard about the shooting back in the mountains. Michael had risen to the occasion and rescued Maria. Good for him. They had fought so long ago and the case of Maria putting him in the hospital was serious. Neither of them would ever find another who would fit them as well. I had always hoped that they would come back together someday.

If the agency had known what the woman was to me, they would have had me off the case in a minute. As it was, I had been assigned to protect her. When she was no longer his wife, we would see what information she could tell us.

It was a surprise when that old fool from back in the mountains had attacked her that first week. He was the man who Michael and most of the other local law dogs were looking for. It had been my intention to knock him cold and disappear, knowing that she would call the police and maybe, they would be able to put things together. That damned rock and my trick knee had betrayed me. He hit me with a sucker punch when I went down. I barely was able to get away before she saw me. That wouldn’t do. Opening up old wounds would not help my case. First thing was to protect the woman. Second thing was to not have her in such a frame of mind that she would refuse to talk to my partner. I would just slip out of the picture. My partner was still on good terms with her, so I would let him interview her, when the time came.

I was pleased when she turned the tables on that old hermit. He surely didn’t expect that from a little, bitty woman. I could have told him that she was small, but she was smart and, in her own way, she had power. That hermit had to be stopped. If I got a chance, I would pop a pill in his head somewhere quietly and no one would ever know. The serial killer would just fade away as so many did.

I saw the shooter when he shot that old man. That was a real crime. The old man was worth any ten of the rest of us in his day. Now, he was taking the patrolling of his campground seriously. I had heard stories about him all during the academy. He was the last of the fast guns in police work. Fast gun didn’t mean that he indulged in walk and draw like in the movies. It meant that the old man would try to uphold the law but when an argument developed, instead of all that legal bullshit, he would go for his gun and settle the matter once and for all. I guess he got that working in Mexico so long ago. Walk and draw, hell! If the old man had found himself in such a situation, he would have had a concealed pistol in his off hand. While the dude was watching his gun hand, the dude would never see the left hand pistol that would end his life and his foolishness.

I couldn’t get to the shooter in time to stop him from the shooting nor to stop him bodily, myself. He got away. I had a glimpse of him and I would stop by the department in Albuquerque sometime and look through the mug books to try to identify him. Now from my perch in the storm, I saw that men were collecting down below. I had to work myself down the slope if I was going to save the women. I had heard the sirens go by. I had wondered then if that was a real call or had someone planted the call for help, to get the police as far away as possible. I wondered if Michael had Pedro riding with him tonight. Everyone knew Pedro in police work. Pedro would quickly spot a set up and probably figure out why. For now, it was only me. The odds were about eight-to-one against me. That is eight until Maria almost burned that fellow to death. He might die anyway, by the way he was groaning. That Maria was some girl. Maybe, if Michael decided to get back together with her, he should disarm her first. Keep the firearms in a gun locker and only turn her loose when the bad guys approached. I had to laugh at my little joke. Maybe, put Maria in a gun locker and only take her out when it was safe to do so.

As I reached the flat from off the slope, I saw that they were fixing to move. I had 13 rounds, plus one in the chamber in my 45 and four 13 round magazines on my belt pouch. I had to stop them. More than my own hide was at stake. Both Maria and Liz would die if I failed. These men were professional. The men who attacked Maria before had been mobsters from St Louis. They were career criminals, but were not professional hit men; these were. That meant that this time, the target was Liz. Maria would just be a casualty.
-------------------------
genes of the King
Special Unit
Curse of the Cat
Traitor

I am looking for a girl/woman to help me in a dreamer story about divorce. Either as a beta or as a co author. the outline and other information is posted several places. this one might be the easiest to find.
http://roswellheaven.yuku.com/topic/4980 beta request
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

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ken_r
Obsessed Roswellian
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Joined: Wed Oct 04, 2006 11:34 pm
Location: New Mexico

Re: Summer to Remember mature, CC pg4, Ch 7, Aug 9/ 09

Post by ken_r » Mon Aug 17, 2009 7:29 am

L-J-L 76 i always check your questions every time. So far all of them will be answered in the story
Begonia9508 So far you are right in everything you say.
destinyc Michael and the Jemez Police are ordinary small town police. Pedro had worked special operations for the state police. He is a composite of three officers I used to know. The watcher has a special detail. He is to protect the woman and not let her know who he is. Joe Martinez is a pueblo cop. the FBI wasn't showing proper interest in the girl who was killed so the pueble ordered Joe to do his own investigation. Many of the Native American police who I knew were in this position. They were good police officers, but their first loyalty was to their people. Richard Sanchez I made up. He is like many of the ex-military who have gone into civilian police force. He is governed by two sets of rules. He is very efficient at what he does. Kyle is regular FBI, but he is smarter than the local FBI. His career is not more important than doing his best job. That is where many FBI fail. There will be some country justice, dealt out. Please try to understand.
keepsmiling7 they can be saved only by the skilled officers in the story.
mary mary everyone knows that i am a gun collector and fairly knowledgable in small arms. I loved the way Maria got her fire arms training.

Chapter 8

Liz

Maria and I were looking out the lower part of the window. Every time the lightening struck, it would light up the whole clearing. We could see the men milling around. They were talking, now, but it seemed that they were soon preparing to rush the cabin. Maria nudged me. “Chica, they are going to all come at once. I will fire at them as well as I can, but when the magazine is empty you have to reload it. We only have about 25 shots. Then, we are helpless. I am sorry, Chica. It is probably my fault that we are in this situation.”

I looked at Maria. We had been friends for years. I tried to smile. It was so not the way I really felt. “We will just hang together,” I whispered. Maria laid out her spare magazine and handed me the box of cartridges. Looking at the box in the flashes of lightening, I saw a pitiful few bullets in the box.

In the next run of flashes, I saw the men had spread out. They started firing at the window. Maria took real chances as she fired. I heard screams, so she had made a couple hits. Maria handed me the empty magazine. I started filling it. For someone who had never done this before, it was very hard to make cartridges enter the magazines against that tight spring. I wasn’t very fast. Maria wasn’t firing very fast either. The bullets were coming in the window and hitting the wall. In the next flash, I looked at the wall. The pockmarks were easily seen. So far, the wall seemed to be stopping the bullets.

Maria looked down at me. “Chica, I am down to two cartridges. Do we make a stand or do we cheat the hangman?”

I looked at Maria. I knew very well what she meant. We didn’t have a chance. “Maria, I can’t condone letting you take my life, nor can I stand by as you take yours. Let’s stand back and when they come in you take out who you can. Then, we accept the cards we have been dealt.”

Maria nodded, “You are right as usual, Chica.” She reached out her hand for mine. Hand in hand we backed against the wall. We were not in line with the bullets coming through the window. We just waited and prayed.

Maria

Liz was right. I had almost folded. It was Liz who gave me strength. We wouldn’t cheat the hangman, but we would face our fate like the strong women we had always said we would be. Dying beside my best friend, that was something. This was a real Thelma and Louise. We wouldn’t commit suicide like they did. We would stand proud and face our killers. Yes, we would probably cry out when we were riddled with bullets, but as long as we could, we would be brave.

The watcher

I worked myself down nearer the group. I could see that they were getting ready to rush the door. That meant that Maria was holding them off and they were hoping that she couldn’t handle several at one time. I had my 45 ready. When they rushed, I would take out what I could before they reached the door. I was going to protect both women. I was wearing dark clothes and a balaclava, or hood, on my head. I wedged my back against a tree and waited to get a clear view of the cabin door. I figured that when the shooting started, the attackers would fall back. I saw first one, then another, dart forward. I was waiting until I could get most of them close enough in view. Suddenly, they all started shooting. I started at the rear and was taking out the attackers. Most of them just went down with leg wounds. Suddenly, there was a boom, boom. I recognized that sound. There was only one cop I knew who carried a 44 magnum and he was retired. I had help. Now, I knew the ladies were safe and I knew that I wouldn’t have to blow my cover.

Pedro Baca

Michael left me at my place. He said that unless something big came up he would see me tomorrow. I turned the police scanner on and settled down to weather the storm. The scanner had a battery supply so when the electricity went off, I could still hear what was going on. From the little radio I heard the call to the automobile accident near Los Alamos. I wanted to yell, “Let the Los Alamos police handle this one, Michael. It is a set up. I took my scanner and went out to my pick up. Michael might be gone for hours on a wild goose chase. I arrived at the campgrounds. I had turned out my lights and placed the pickup in four wheel drive. It was quietly going over the rutted roads at a very slow speed. I saw the group of cars in the middle of the road and pulled off under some trees. I had a fanny pouch and I filled it up with 44 cartridges. There were a lot more than I figured I would need. Most people sit up and notice when that big gun goes off. When I arrived, there was one man moaning, lying on the road in the rain. They hadn’t even made any attempt to cover him.

I had settled down. If I made no movement they wouldn’t notice me in this rain or even the now frequent lightening strikes. My knees were aching. I had to move several times to get them to quit cramping. I tried to time this between the flashes. I, finally, got comfortable and then, I saw something coming down out of the trees on the far side. He was clearly a professional. In the flash, I could see that his head and face were covered. Now, my question was which side was he on?

Finally, the group of men between us started to move. They were very leery of the window. I guess that girl Michael had a thing for, still had her Glock. It was just a little bitty nine millimeter, but she had used it well back in the mountains. It was to see, what she would do here. As the men rushed for the first time, I heard carefully spaced shots coming from the cabin. Two men in front fell. The men halted. Then with a scream they all ran toward the cabin. I saw the stranger on the far side take out two men at the end of the crowd. Well, I guess that settled for the minute which team he was rooting for.

There was return fire from the cabin. But so many bullets were flying through the window, it must have been hard for whoever was in there to get a careful shot off. Then, the firing from inside stopped. I just hoped that didn’t mean that they had been hit. The men had made it to the door. One of them, a big bruiser, stood back and kicked the door in. As he was framed by the door, there were two quick shots from inside and he fell.

I could delay no longer. I cut loose with the 44. The noise was deafening in this little clearing. The man on the other side began to spray bullets at the collected group, which turned them from the door. I say spray, but each shot went right where it was intended. I guess I should get a semi automatic sometime, but I felt so good about that old 44. I turned my attention to the cars lined up in the road. I placed several bullets in the motor area. That would slow them down when they broke and ran. Break and run is what they did. They pulled a couple of the wounded into the cars, but most of them remained where they lay. It was quiet for several minutes. The hoods had pulled out of the campground. I wondered how far they would get. They had just cleared the campground when I heard a siren. Michael came in sliding through the mud. He saw the carnage, then, I guess he called for the ambulance that still couldn’t find the accident.

Michael

I was thinking that this was just too convenient. No one could find the accident, but they had to be thorough. There were just too many stories of people driving off the road and down into a ravine to not check carefully. When the station said that the electricity was off in the LaCueva area, all I could think of was that all the police were up here and with Milt in the hospital, no one was guarding the campground. I was heading down. I wished again that Pedro was with me tonight.

When I passed LaCueva, the whole town was dark. At the campground, I could already hear the gun shots. I radioed for help and turned on my red light. Several cars were already out of the campground and on the road. I could worry about them later. I radioed the station and they would get the word out to the other departments. I needed to see if Maria was all right. As I approached, I saw several men on the ground and I called for the ambulance. If they couldn’t find the automobile wreck, then they could come here and pick up the wounded. I hoped that the Sandoval county sheriff or even Jemez reservation police would assist me. When I was out of the car, I ran into the cabin. I grabbed Maria and then reached out to hold Liz also. I was holding both women in my arms. I was so glad that they were still alive. I think I was being too emotional.

Maria.

The door was kicked in and I fired my last two bullets into the brute standing in the doorway. Now, Liz and I were through. The rest would rush us and either overpower us or kill us out right. I knew that, eventually, we would be killed. I just couldn’t decide whether to wish it immediately or that we could be given every minute to live that we could. Liz and I were holding each other. I think we were crying. I didn’t know if it was in fear or anger. The rush never came. There was a lot of firing outside that didn’t enter the cabin. Then there were several booms like I had heard back at the other cabin. No body rushed in. After awhile, it was quiet outside. I heard a siren and outside I saw a flashing red light. Michael was here. We were alive and Liz and I had another chance.

Liz

I was never so glad to see that older Hispanic man who I had met with Michael that day. He walked though the door. Maria and I were holding each other, I guess expecting, to die together. When Michael rushed in, there was no mistaking his concern for us. I was surprised that he was holding both of us in his arms. I am sure that I felt tears from him as he hugged us close.

Pedro

Michael said that blonde almost killed him one time. It was clear that he no longer held any grudge. That boy was positively worried sick when he arrived. I wondered what his history with the brunette was. He was almost as happy to see her as the blonde. We would have to investigate, but I was sure that these bad boys were not associated with those we shot up back in the mountains. There were just too many strangers coming into this country. This series of murders was almost unheard of in the quiet Hispanic communities. Now, everyone was walking their wives and daughters, carrying shotguns and they were loaded for bear. Not the four footed kind, but whoever was invading our world.

The information I had received was that the boys the other night were all from St. Louis. They all had criminal records, but they were not particularly talented. These men, lying, groaning in the rain, were all something else. They had more organization. I had heard at least one talking to an officer and his accent was definitely east coast, New York or maybe, Jersey.

That stranger who was on our side had completely disappeared. I checked for signs and I saw that he was wearing hiking boots. None of the others were dressed in any footwear, other than shoes. I had seen signs of the serial killer at the other cabin. He was wearing work shoes definitely showing wear. There had been no sign of him here. The shooting of that stranger was good. He was using a big bore pistol, probably a 45. Most of these punks were carrying nine millimeters. I needed to talk with Michael, but that would wait until his passions for the two ladies had abated.

We were surely filling up the prison ward at the hospital in Albuquerque and ultimately, the jail in Bernalillo. I hope they enjoyed their stay there. The jail was old and looked a lot like a dungeon. The jailers were chosen for their ‘loving’ nature. The Jail and jail personnel had been cited several times for its inhumane conditions and their harsh treatment of prisoners.

Maria

I could only kick myself for what I had done to Michael so long ago. Why did I not see the passion in his eyes? I chased the fleeting bird of success and left a nest where I could have had all the love in the world. The man was crying, he was so relieved to see us unhurt. It was several minutes before he let either Liz or me go. I was thinking, both Liz and myself had suffered through two attacks and we were still alive. Were we living charmed lives? Emotionally, I was a wreck. I imagine Liz wasn’t that much better. I had to talk to Michael. If my being with Liz was increasing the danger to her, I should move and I had no idea of where to go. Ed had allowed me to stay at his cabin and he had handed me five hundred dollars for expenses. Of the thousands that I had made for someone on the singing tour, there was nothing left. This had been the end of the line for me. Talking to Liz, I got the impression she was in the same boat. Sean, that bastardly cousin of mine, had spent everything she’d had. Then, he copped a plea to get the easiest punishment he could.

My ears were still ringing. When the fight was going on, I hadn’t noticed the loss of hearing, but now, it was making my head throb. I had been trying to listen to what the men were saying. There was something about this attack not being related to the one before. Did the whole world have it in for us?

When Michael released me I found that I was gripping him just as tightly as he was me. I didn’t ever want him to go. I, also, heard something about a mysterious man who had assisted Pedro, that friend of Michael’s. There had been a mysterious man who came to Liz’s rescue also.
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

User avatar
ken_r
Obsessed Roswellian
Posts: 860
Joined: Wed Oct 04, 2006 11:34 pm
Location: New Mexico

Re: Summer to Remember mature, CC pg5, Ch 8, Aug 17/ 09

Post by ken_r » Sun Aug 23, 2009 5:35 pm

begonia9508
destinyc
keepsmiling7

Chapter 9

Michael

The girls were in another room picking up their things. I wanted to move them to Albuquerque, Maybe, they would be safer in the city. “No, Mike, that is not a good idea. In Albuquerque, there could be a shooter behind every parking meter and no one would notice. Hiding in a city is just not that easy. Here, in the rural area, we know if strangers come into town. I think you should contact that state officer, Jimmy Yates. See if the feds interest can be stirred up enough to spring for another cabin. There are enough out of state boys in these two groups to interest them. See if they will spring for an armed caretaker to help Milt when he comes back. If my thinking is right, the feds already have interest in something around here. There is that mysterious stranger, also. I bet he is with some federal department. Unless he has a hard on for one of the women, he was awfully quick to come to their aid. From what that lady Liz, says, this is the second time he has appeared,” Pedro instructed me.

I listened to Pedro. He had more experience than most officers anywhere around here. A call to Jimmy Yates, then a telephone patch to someone from Washington and it was arranged. The feds would pay for another cabin and they would send a man to act as caretaker. He probably would be packing an Uzi, that little Israeli machine gun that is so concealable. The feds always liked that one. When I met the man they sent, I would have traded him for any number of Uzis. I sat the women down and explained what we knew and what we thought we should share with them.

Liz

I almost felt like a schoolgirl. Michael was carefully explaining what he wanted us to do. Running was not an option. These men had intelligence networks that rivaled the Federal Police. “Michael, maybe, you should get me away from Liz,” Maria stated.

Michael just shook his head, “No, Maria, we think it was Liz who they were after last night. These were different boys than those you faced back in the hills. Separating the two of you will make guarding you more difficult. Taking you to the city will not help, either. We think you should both stay here. We will get another caretaker for the campground and put you up in another cabin. The FBI will be here tomorrow. I can’t promise complete safety, but I can suggest you will be safer here where we know and care for you, than somewhere where you are just a subject, a number on a sheet of paper.”

I had to admit that Michael made sense. I knew that Maria didn’t want to move far away. She still hoped for something with Michael and she didn’t really want to leave me. We had held on to each other too tightly last night to abandon that right now.

I heard something about a mysterious stranger, but no one volunteered any information about that.

Kyle

“Did you blow your cover, last night?” I asked.

A disembodied voice over the cell phone answered. “No, that Hispanic guy with the cannon looked at the place where I was standing for a long time. There was no follow up. I think he was just interested in who had been on his side.”

“Does anyone you know, have knowledge that you are in the southwest?” I inquired again.

“No, I have stayed away from anyplace where I might be recognized. As far as friends and family know, I am still back east going to school. They have no idea what I was studying for,” the voice answered.

“Have you stayed away from the woman?” I inquired, this time more harshly.

“Of course, she probably still hates me. I promise I won’t do anything to jeopardize the project,” he promised.

“You better not. If the bosses find out that you have history with her, they will yank you off the case in a minute. My ass will be in a wringer then, also. We agreed that you would be best there because you really cared for the subject. Someone else might not take as many chances as you will to protect her,” I replied.

“How is your love life coming?” the voice asked.

“Its about the same as before. We are talking and she answers, just like you that you both were stupid. We go out and we have been to bed a few times, but I still have issues of trust,” I mused. I was thinking that we all lost so much back in Roswell. I guess, it took the maturity of age for all parties to realize this. As far as I knew, Tess and I were the only couple making any progress. We didn’t, yet, know what was going on between Michael and Maria. Anyone else was just not possible at this time.

“Well, at least you are talking. I don’t think I could ever get that close,” the voice sadly replied.

“Wait until the project is over. Then maybe we can sort things out. Unless you still intend to just disappear again like you said,” I told him. From the first, the watcher had declared he would just fade away when the time came. To me, that decision should be left until later.

“I will try to do what’s best,” the voice answered. “Until, later.” Then, he hung up.

Maria

Michael arranged for us to get another cabin. Pedro was insistent that the cabin be closer to the central campground, but still would be on the outside of the rest of the cabins. For some reason, he wanted the cabin to be close to a stand of trees, at least on one side. We moved the king-sized bed over to the new cabin. Neither Liz nor myself wanted to be alone right now. My little car, had been towed in by someone. They left word that fixing it would be more than the car was worth. Liz has her car. While we are living together, neither of us has any intention of going off alone I guess this will work out. Michael and Pedro came over the other day. Pedro was sitting, talking to Liz about New Mexican history, so Michael indicated for me to follow him. We went walking across the campground. That gave us some alone time together if not private time. I wanted there to be no surprises between us. If we had a chance together, Michael had to trust me. My life isn’t something I am proud of but it has existed. It would be up to Michael to accept or judge.

“Michael, I was just too young and naive. I believed I was a rock star. I believed that I was valuable for who I was. That just wasn’t so. I was given few choices and I probably made poor use of those. I did what I was told and accepted what was given to me. What you see right here, is all I have left. I lost all the money made, if I ever had any. Those who were supposed to be managing me, probably just passed me by most of the time. I thought I had found adoration, but it was just a shell. I was a prop. They could have used any willing fool to accomplish what I was doing. The one manager, Ed, was the only one, I think, who cared about me. He treated me like a daughter. He never once suggested that I sleep with him. After the shooting, Ed sent me out here. Seeing you here was just an extra. Maybe, an extra if there is still anything between us.”

Michael didn’t say much. If I remember, he hadn’t said much when we were back in Roswell. The only time he expressed anger was when I told him about going on the singing tour. That got him a spell in the hospital and me a spell in the slammer. I really felt there was something there. I, also, felt that Michael was afraid to express it. I was going to have to go slow. Right now, Michael’s concern about both mine and Liz’s welfare occupied most of his thoughts.

Liz

I know that Pedro was just helping Michael have time with Maria. He was such an interesting person though. He knew all the history of northern New Mexico. He had grown up with many of the people we read about in the news. He had been a policeman all of his life. He had worked for several different departments. I asked him about the mysterious stranger and he just shrugged. “Better, Liz, to not inquire too closely into things right now. There is someone out there who is looking out for you. Don’t question their reasons, just accept what they do,” Pedro told me. I had hoped things were over. Maybe, Maria and I could settle down to relax for the rest of the summer. My fears were realized when Michael and Pedro left. They handed Maria three more boxes of ammunition for her Glock.

Michael

Talking to Maria, I felt that she was trying to be candid with me. She asked if I had feelings for her, and I didn’t answer. The time in Roswell was very painful and I do not mean the wound from the frying pan. To see someone you love just fly away to chase a wisp of smoke, that had been painful. To see someone diving into something that you know had no substance was just so hard. To see your self, left alone because of this, was the hardest thing to bear.

Now, I couldn’t think too hard on that subject. I didn’t want to close any doors, but I didn’t want to start up something that I couldn’t handle. Right now, I had two women to protect, I had a patrol job to keep up and I still had a murderer to catch. The only thing was the serial killer was becoming careless. The people at Loma Coyote had chased him away. Now, I heard that he had tried to attack a little hippy girl over east in Madrid. That answered the question, “Did he have a truck or something that allowed him to get around?” Unless all the killers were migrating to New Mexico we still had a serious investigation to continue. One of the hippies claimed to have shot out the back window of his truck. Make love not war did not mean a stranger could come in and hurt one of their girls.

For a couple weeks, things really quieted down. Tourists flocked to the mountains every Sunday. We set speed traps to earn our salaries; we attended music festivals to oversee mostly tame crowds. We answered the fish and game when they thought there were dangerous parties in the wilderness area. Everything was normal, nothing to remark about.

The reports were coming in. The men we had first taken, way up on the mountain, were all from St Louis, They were related to that killing that Maria had witnessed. The feds wanted her put on ice until they finished their investigation. Then, Maria would have the unpleasant duty to testify about the killing. The second group was more difficult. They didn’t know Maria from Adam, or better, Eve. They were connected to an organized crime syndicate. They were determined to be, “killers for hire”. Liz was their target, but none of them knew why. Maybe, they were just too tough for the feds to sweat the information out of them. Liz had no idea why anyone would want to kill her.

We still had weekly storms.

Liz

The first storm after that terrible night frightened both of us. Of course the electricity went out. That was almost a given. For a while, we watched out the windows at the clearing, lit up by the lightening. We saw some of the cabins light their gas lights, but in the over all darkness they looked so vulnerable that we just sat in the dark. Both of us did see something at the edge of the forest. It looked like a man. When the next flash happened, the shadow or whatever it was, had disappeared. It was at the edge of the forest nearest to our new cabin. We both bundled up and went to bed. We couldn’t sleep; there were too many fireworks in the air. Finally, we fell into just telling stories about our lives.

“That first night when Sean came home telling me he had been arrested for bank fraud was like this,” I started. “The storms back there are more distant. Here in the mountains, they seem to be right beside us. I remember that Sean seldom ever got home before me. This time, he was waiting. ‘Babe,’ he said. ‘I have been arrested and it is going to be on the news tonight, but don’t worry I am innocent. There is just a mistake in the accounting and the boss is laying it out on me to cover his own ass.’

“By then I had learned that nothing was Sean’s fault. There was always someone out to get him. I don’t see how that boy ever lived so long with so many people always out to get him. When I heard the news, it wasn’t an accounting error. Someone had been stealing investment money from retirement funds. Sean wanted to make love that night. I complied, but he got mad and said I just lay there. I wasn’t participating. My heart just wasn’t in it, that night or any other, until they took Sean away for good. Now, it seems that the storm lasted all through the weeks of the trial. I saw Sean hand over our savings to his lawyer and then, he begged me for more. That was all I had. Sean was angry when I explained that I didn’t have any more. He said I should borrow it from you. You were a rich bitch on that singing tour. I tried to explain that we didn’t have that sort of relationship. I had no intention of borrowing from anyone. I was afraid that he was going to say I should ask Alex for money, but for some reason he was scared of Alex. When the money was almost gone, Sean and his lawyer worked out the plea.” I was thinking that this was the first time I had ever told anyone my story.

Maria and I lay there listening to the thunder for several minutes. “Maria, that was the first time I actually wanted to die. That is why, the other night, I just couldn’t approach that idea again.”

Maria looked at me in the dark of the room, revealed from time to time with the flashes. “And, well it was. I, almost, lost my resolve. It was you who brought me back to my senses,” she confessed to me. That was the one time I was so glad we faced the danger together. Both of us had to strengthened the other.

Maria

I was talking to Liz. She had told me her story, now, I felt compelled to tell her mine. “That night, we had had a successful concert. When I got back to the dressing room, the man who I learned to call Vinny was waiting for me with his bodyguards. Now, remember, that I had been on the tour for several years. When I saw him, I knew the score. I smiled and twisted my hips as I invited him into my dressing room. He sat while I stepped behind a screen to change. The screen was several folded hinged panels. There were gaps between the hinges, so I am sure Vinny saw every thing I was doing and everything I had. Twice, I dared to look through the gap and I saw him intently looking at the screen. “Hey, babe, I think you ought to stick around St. Louis for a few weeks. I will arrange a couple of concerts and we can see what happens,” Vinny said. What happens? That was no surprise. I knew what was going to happen. This is the way it worked. I keep Vinny happy and Vinny sets me up with a few concerts; everyone is happy. That is everyone, but me. After that first concert, we returned home and I was in what now was ‘our’ bedroom getting ready for Vinny to celebrate, when the doors to the apartment, burst open and someone who Vinny had screwed over shot him very dead. They ran and I did, also. The police found out about me and they started looking for me. Well, what the police knew, the mobsters also knew. It seems that they are the same sometimes.” I had told Liz the things that I would probably have to reveal to the feds.
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

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ken_r
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Re: Summer to Remember mature, CC pg5, Ch 9, Aug 23/ 09

Post by ken_r » Mon Aug 31, 2009 7:30 am

L-J-L 76
natalie36
begonia9508
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Chapter 10

Liz

I felt how fickle life is sometimes. Neither of our plans from high school had worked out. Both of us had lost control of our lives somewhere. I hoped that Michael and Maria would someway get back together. What about me? I didn’t have anyone to get back together with. I guess that Max had never really cared for me. I had given him my virginity and he had smeared my gift with his actions with Tess. I doubt she could even remember being a virgin. I know that is catty. Sometimes, I just feel very catty, catty and very alone.

The thunder boomers continued the rest of the evening past midnight. Maria and I both got up a couple times to peer out the window, but we saw nothing. That shadow we thought we saw at the edge of the forest never appeared again.

Maria

The day opened bright and shiny. The rain had cleansed the air. When Liz and I got up all the fears again had vanished. Milt had come home. His arm was in a cast and I think his ribs were wrapped. The feds had sent a man to help him as caretaker. Milt might be stove up a bit, but he was still packing his 45. For many reasons that made me feel safer, later that morning, I saw Milt looking at the edge of the clearing. I am sure he was looking at the place where we saw the shadow last night. The wonderful thing about bright sunshine is that you wonder why you were so scared before in the dark. Liz and I had both shared a piece of our lives last night. It was like when we had sleep-overs when we were in grade school. At that time, our confidences were not so dramatic. Then, the most exciting revelation was, “Hey, Liz, I think that boy Simon has a cute butt. I think I am falling, in love with him.” Of course last week, I said the same thing about that boy, Robert.

Just as the land looked fresher and younger, I felt younger and freer this morning. Michael said that he was now sure that the men back at the cabin in the hills were all from those who killed Vinny. The question was, that the second attack was aimed at Liz and they were from New York. What had Liz ever done to deserve someone trying to kill her?

Liz

Maria seemed so happy this morning and I wanted to know more about that shadow. Later I intended to talk to Milt about what he saw this morning. Last night was the first time I had told anyone about the days and nights I suffered with the indictment of Sean. Every time Maria tells me stories bout her life, I gain a little more about what her life has been like. I see how hard the tour was on Maria. I so hope that she gets back with Michael.

Speaking of getting back, I wonder if and when I will want to get back into the game. I have been badly hurt twice, so I will try to be cautious next time. Again, my thoughts go back to Max. I quickly squelch those thoughts. Max is gone, period. I sat back and looked for a dream. I will try to imagine the mysterious man who saved me the first time. Could I fall into his arms like I had once fallen into the arms of Max? No, no, I promised myself not to go there.

Kyle

“Hey, Alex, have you gotten any more information for me?” I asked. I had to be careful as I didn’t yet know how much he had told Isabel. Alex, through his company, was tracing the bank dealings of Sean DeLuca. I had the watcher taking care of Liz. Now, he was watching out for Maria likewise. No telling what will happen when we hold Sean’s toes to the fire. Maria might be in more trouble than she knows about. Those boys from St Louis wanted her out of the way. The watcher was careful not to get caught, but he was sworn to not let anything happen to Liz, either.

“Hey Kyle, I have my best hackers tracing his actions for the last six months. Remember they are mostly high school kids. I wish we could do something for Liz, but her divorce will be final at the end of summer. Then, maybe, we can rescue some of her own assets. Michael is a good man even if he is just out of school. There is that other thing going on out there. I hope we don’t loose her for him while watching for the buddies of Sean,” Alex replied.

“I don’t want to lose Liz to anyone. She was never the girl for me, but she was one of the smartest and nicest girls I ever went with. Michael has some help and the officers of the other departments are pretty good. They will help. The watcher will do his best. Remember, he has a lot at stake in her welfare,” I explained.

“Isabel is asking if we know anything about Max. She brings it up every so often. I am running out of things to tell her,” Alex stated.

“Be careful, Alex. If she knows too much it might affect him. Max has to live his life out in his own way. Tess says that it was a huge mistake and she doesn’t want anything more to do with him. I am waiting to see if what she says is true,” I answered.

“Hey, Kyle, Isabel just walked in so I will catch you later,” and Alex hung up.

Later that night, Tess came in. She was working late this week. She came in and walked over to me for a kiss. She had been back with me for almost a year now. I guess, I should trust her now. I think the real test will be if we all get back together. Can Tess face Max and they act like nothing ever happened? I would never tell her or anyone else how much I was hurt and I felt so bad about Liz at the same time. Tess explained that she and Max just got to messing around. It was purely an accident that they ended up in bed together. What started out as a dare and a tease ended up as a mess that hurt several people. She couldn’t apologize enough. She always wished it hadn’t happened, saying she was sorry would never be enough.

Isabel

Liz Parker and her friend, Maria DeLuca, had a friend who followed them almost like a puppy until their emergence to womanhood excluded him. That is right, he was a guy. He was bright and resourceful and, later, I learned, totally smitten by me. When Liz’s relationship to my brother brought me back to earth, I found that Alex was so much better than the pretension that I had lived with for so long. Being with him was liberating. He taught me that concern for others would bring me those who had concern for me. When Alex and I finally bonded, our attraction was almost unbreakable.

Accepting Alex as my true love was, at once, the hardest thing I ever did and the best thing that ever happened to me. I had grown up, through no one’s fault but my own, to seek social status and image. My parents were fairly wealthy, but I never saw any posturing in them. I just drifted into a circle where one’s image and position were all important. It was a precarious world. A world where missteps cost position and faux pas could ruin your life forever. My brother was so well grounded. His choice of girl friend was the daughter of a restaurant owner. She had worked hard all of her life. This independence caused him to seek his first job. He didn’t need the money, but he thrived on the idea of responsibility, of holding a job and having his own fortune in his hands. Watching Liz Parker brought me down to Earth. Yes, she cared what people thought of her, but that didn’t govern her whole life. She wanted to be known for her intellect, kindness and willingness to always care for those who needed help. I think that last even included me.

Unbreakable relationships, that is what I thought the others had. First Maria puts her boyfriend in the hospital and gets arrested for it. Then my brother lays a casual friend in his girlfriend’s bed and gets caught. Maria was the first to leave the minute she got out of jail. Tess, the girl who Max laid in the middle of a truly good relationship, her infidelity to her own boyfriend disclosed, disappeared. Next, Max who changed his plans to pursue his true love back east to college, now, was enrolled at Stanford. Liz followed her own dream without Max and left for Harvard. Kyle and the boyfriend of Maria, Michael, whose head still throbbed, headed to New Mexico State. I looked around and Alex was all that I had left.

Alex was making money with his computer skills way before he left high school. We attended the University of New Mexico, it being just far enough from Roswell for us to forget what had happened there and close enough for me to look in on my parents. All the time, I wanted to forget the breakups and hope that someday we would all be back together. You know; family barbeques, soccer matches for the kids and growing old, playing cards on Wednesdays.

I am sure that Alex is now in contact with Kyle. He won’t talk about it. He claims that it is confidential. His computer company does a lot of work like that. I ask about what he hears about Max. He just shakes his head. Men can be so infuriating that way sometimes. We had heard a little about Liz’s trouble. Alex showed a lot of concern, but he never explained. Sometimes, I think of Tess, but then, I accuse her of many of our troubles. That is unfair. No body stripped the clothes off my brother and no body held a gun to his head as he was screwing her. She is no more at fault than he is.

Roswell is surely lonely with those important to me all gone. I do not know where they are, including my own brother. Mom and dad ask about Max almost every week. I have no answers for them.

Michael

Things had settled down in Jemez for a while. The storms settled down to rain squalls every afternoon. No more murders occurred. The FBI lost all interest except for the caretaker they still supplied to help Milt at the Thunderbird Paradise campgrounds. Pedro was getting so bored that he was talking about returning back to his home in Espanola, New Mexico.

Maria was still staying with Liz. The two women did not seem to want to break this accommodation. One day, on my day off, Maria and I went driving way up near the San Pedro wilderness. I parked my pickup and we hiked up one of the trails to a lake. Once there, we walked a considerable distance off the trail and found a place under an old pine tree. Neither of us wanted a “piece on earth,” in the pine needles and all, so I had carried a thick blanket and light tarp for us to sit on and maybe, more later.

Bit by bit, Maria had told me about the singing tour. Every time she talked about it, she searched my face to see how I was taking what she said.

Maria

This was to be the test that made or broke the camel’s back, so to speak. When Michael asked me to ride with him and then, to hike up the trail I had hoped he didn’t want to show me the beaver pond. In the backpack he handed me, he had packed a lunch. On his pack, I saw that he had a canvas ground cloth and a blanket. I hoped that, that meant we were on the way to something. When Michael spread out the blanket, I saw that he placed his pistol nearby. This reminded me that we still lived with a certain danger. Michael had a bottle of wine which he carefully opened and taking two plastic cups we toasted an uncertain future. Michael never drank much and although he poured for me, he hardly touched his cup. I didn’t know if he was attempting a seduction or he was keeping his head clear, in case something happened.

He didn’t have to ask me twice. If he wanted to seduce me I was almost there the moment I knew that I would spend the summer in the area he worked. We were secluded and we didn’t think anyone was around. Michael removed his shirt and pulled my face deep against his chest. He didn’t know how long I had wanted this.

Making love with a lover is so different from making love with someone you are expected to. With a lover, you didn’t fake anything, you didn’t have to. Any sighs were natural and escaped by pure desire. Your clothes melted away, not because he wanted to ogle your body, but because you wanted him to run his hands over your entire body. The final act of love wasn’t that final. You felt that he had given some of himself to you and that you had given him the satisfaction that you really wanted him.

We lay in the shadows of the tree, again, not thinking that anyone could be anywhere near. Suddenly, Michael stiffened. I was terrified. Had I done something, broken some unsaid taboo and offended him? Michael put his finger to my lips and he was looking around. Michael handed me my clothes. I was still worried how I had angered him. I saw that he quickly dressed and was helping me with my clothes. I tried to speak and again he put his hand to my lips. He replaced everything in the backpacks, all the time looking around. Now, I was getting afraid. Michael wasn’t mad at me. Something had scared him and it wasn’t sex.

Michael emptied half a box of cartridges into his pocket. He kept his jacket pulled away from the grip of his weapon. I still couldn’t figure what the trouble was, but at least I now didn’t think it was me.

I know that it is all in my head. The weather hadn’t changed a bit, but now, I didn’t see the bright sunlight. I didn’t smell the fresh air. I felt suffocated. Whatever had scared Michael was now resting heavily on me. As we hiked down the trail, I kept looking for what it was. I couldn’t find anything. I started thinking. Once again, my brags that I was an independent woman fell on a fearful mind. If something happened to Michael, what would I do? I didn’t even have my, ever present, Glock. When hoping for the act of being seduced, one doesn’t necessarily go armed. I knew that the, ever-present, serial killer had not been identified nor stopped. He was just waiting for a spell. I also knew that those from St. Louis hadn’t given up yet, either. They still wanted me dead. Then my mind traveled, had I angered those who wanted to kill Liz? Were they waiting somewhere to end my life so they could get to her easier, next time?

It wasn’t until we were back in the pickup and headed back to the main road that Michael would talk to me. “What did you hear, Michael?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he growled. “That was the trouble. When we arrived at the little shady spot, I could hear the frogs from the lake. I could hear the insects and birds going about their business. It took a while to realize, but suddenly there was only silence. Something was out there. I think it was close enough to see or, at least, know where we were. That something doesn’t want to face an armed man in the daylight, but it was watching.” Michael then turned to me. “I am sorry, Maria. I thought the day would be one that, maybe, brought closure to what divides us. Instead it just increased the fear.”

This time, it was me who put my fingers to his lips. “Michael, you gave me something that any amount of fear couldn’t take away. Michael, when we made love I saw hope, hope that someday we can clear our pasts and be back together again. It was worth all of that,” I told him. I hope I had given him encouragement to do this again, soon. Of course this time without an audience.
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

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