Chapter 1
5:17 am. Why in God’s name am I awake? It’s New Year’s Day and the night before I was in bed by 9:30pm. Frankly, I don’t care about a dropping ball or getting drunk or any of that celebratory falderall. I doubt that this year will look any different or better than the last sixty-three years. Again I ask myself, “Why am I awake?”
That thought instantly evaporates as I hear a faint scratching coming from the kitchen. I grab the 9mm that I keep in my bedside table and head quietly toward the sound. Retired after nearly forty years as a homicide detective, I still find myself ready for the worst. In this case, my instincts are dead on. As I peer around the corner I see at the kitchen door a hooded figure working diligently to jimmy the lock and break into my home. I will wait until this vermin is completely inside before I confront them. If they are carrying a weapon it won’t bode well for this intruder.
With a click the lock opens and in stumbles the perp. To my surprise they fall over in a pool of blood right in the middle of my kitchen floor. I hear a gasp and then nothing. I feel for a pulse. I won’t have to shoot this criminal after all. I remove the hood and get the shock of my life. There on the floor, deader than dead, is my former boss, Chief of Police, Dick Richardson. He and I were never on the best of terms, but I never wished him dead. I am sarcastic by nature and I can’t help but say, “Happy New Year, Chief.”
My training snaps into gear and I get busy examining his body. It is easy to see how he died. There is a stab wound in his neck and blood still oozes from it. What the hell? How was he able to break into my home? Why was he breaking into my home? Those questions zip through my mind but I stop cold as an idea comes to my mind.. What if he was stabbed by someone just as he was entering the house? I grab my pistol and head out the back door careful not to disturb any evidence that I might destroy by tramping through. By this time the killer has had ample time to escape into the woods behind my property but I scan the trees just the same.
I look carefully at my back stoop looking for anything the killer may have left behind. At first glance I see nothing. I will need to look more closely but right now I need to call this in. Not surprising, Chief Richardson is still on my kitchen floor and he’s still dead. I pick up my cell phone from the kitchen counter and dial the number I have burned into my memory after decades of looking at death.
There is something more bothering me about this event other than the obvious. Something is poking at my retired mind but I can’t put a finger on it. It will come to me eventually, but first things first. I report what’s happened then wait for the team to arrive.
I was wrong about one thing this morning. This will be very different than my last sixty-three New Year’s Days.
