Morning of the 13th

“Hey Bernie… I’m not trying to sell you anything,” the man coming in my shop door stated while using my name like he knew me. I was turned away from him so I know he couldn’t have seen my name tag.

“That’s good because I’m not buying anything,” I reply, sure I’ve never seen this guy before in my life.

Mr. Friendly laughed. It was a phony laugh – one of those tinny sounds originating in the throat and propelled outward by hot air.

“Do you use diagnostic scanners, Bernie?”

“Yes.” At least I know what he’s pretending not to be selling.

“Do you get the most out of your scanner, Bernie?”

“My scanner and I have a professional relationship. It scans and I read. It refuses to do anything else.”

Again the tinny laugh.

“I’ve acquired a number of WhizBang (name changed to protect the innocent) scanning devices, Bernie. I’d like to show…”

“No thanks.”

“Bernie, there’s nothing…”

“Would you please stop using my name like you know me? I’m not interested in anything you’re not selling or selling.” I said this in a calm manner, but I did interrupt because I was getting annoyed at the too familiar name drop. This guy had already used my first name more than my Dad did when he was alive (my Dad referred to me as the Terror of Beal Street). Anyway, Friendly doesn’t like my interruption.

“You are very rude, Sir.”

“And your time is up. I have to get back to work.”

“What are you afraid of in hearing about the scanners I have?”

I turn around reluctantly. “You started your pitch with a lie and you used my first name like a long lost relative. Lastly, I don’t want another scanner.”

“Would it have been better if I’d referred to you as Shithead?”

I laughed. Okay, that was funny. Although I’m entertained, I get serious because I really do have to get back to work. “Can you find your way out or do you need an escort?”

Mr. Friendly wanted to say a few more things but he wisely left without further ado. Who says Friday the 13^th can’t be fun? :)

Monster

STORM, chapter three for anyone following it. :)

Storm slipped into the passenger seat of Tracy’s beat-up 1996 Chevy Cavalier and buckled her seatbelt.

“Well?” Tracy asked expectantly. “I hope that bag you’re carrying has notes and fixes from today’s Physics, Chemistry, and Trig classes.”

“It does.”

“You are so annoying,” Tracy replied disgustedly, driving away from the curb. “You did all the homework due just since we left school?”

“And played on the computer,” Storm needled and then laughed. “If you’re unhappy about my progress, we can just forget about comparing notes.”

“I’m not that unhappy,” Tracy retorted. “I’m jealous. I get home, get interrogated, trade insults with my little brother, and it’s nine o’clock. Here it is only six and you have all your homework done. I hate you.”

Storm laughed appreciatively. Tracy joined in with her after pretending outrage for a moment longer.

“I’ve decided to take you up on your offer to buy friendship with my brain. My folks said it would be okay if we have the study group at my house.”

“Okay, I don’t hate you,” Tracy repented jokingly. “Does Saturdays at noon sound okay to you? We can break up around two and give Logan plenty of time to get ready for work.”

“Sure, that’ll work. Do you do any part time work anywhere?”

“Just babysitting for the neighbors,” Tracy answered. “My Dad pays me to do the tedious part of his job, entering stuff in his company’s ledgers and spread sheets. It helps me with my typing speed and I’m getting a real feel for accounting. Dad goes over everything I do afterwards. If I screw up, I get docked.”

“We can definitely have a knowledge exchange,” Storm replied. “I’m weak on business principles like balance sheets. I’ll trade you a little physics for a little accounting.”

“Deal,” Tracy agreed happily. “Logan is an all around smart-ass. He actually helps his manager with the books. If something can be self taught on the Internet, Logan will learn it. My Dad helped him out with some templates and websites to get the basics down. Logan took it from there. Now he makes extra money helping his Burger King manager out with inventory, ordering, and expenses.”

“My parents are really upset about moving into an area with a serial kidnapper and probable killer,” Storm said fishing for clues. “So, you said earlier you didn’t know any of the girls who were taken?”

“I recognized three of the names,” Tracy replied, turning the Chevy into the Burger King parking lot. “I had history with the two juniors last year. They pretty much kept to themselves. I didn’t know the other three.”

“Wow, did the cops talk to you?” Storm asked with some excitement as Tracy parked and turned off the engine.

“No… why would they?” Tracy asked, looking over at Storm with some confusion.

“Maybe to ask if you had noticed stuff they had in common,” Storm said, carefully shrugging as if she were just curious. “Did they know each other?”

“Yeah, now that I think about it. They always came to class together and sat together at the back of the room next to each other. Hell, you’re right, I should have been asked. I didn’t even think about them hangin’ together until now. Maybe I should call the cops and let them know.”

“I think you should,” Storm encouraged her, knowing Janet and Ted would allow the police to find out from Tracy rather than blow their cover. Can you think of anything else they might have done together?”

“Not really - they blew in and out of class without much socializing. This stuff really sets your panties on fire, huh?” Tracy kidded her, getting out of the car and walking around to the front near the Burger King building.

“Yeah, I admit it,” Storm replied truthfully as she joined Tracy on the walkway. “Did those two have any other similarities in dress, or attitude, or…”

Tracy gestured Storm in the door ahead of her while she thought about it. Logan saw them enter. He came around the counter. There were only five other people in the fast food restaurant and no one waiting. Storm could see Logan came from the back. She assumed they didn’t want him working the counter where the customers might get upset at his facial scars.

“What can I get you two?” Logan asked, grinning as Tracy gave Storm devil horns with her index and middle fingers from behind while mouthing ‘crazy’.

“Hey…” Storm twisted away from Tracy, looking at her accusingly as Tracy returned her look with one of utter innocence. “Are you trying to make me look bad in front of Wolvy?”

“C’mon, I only have a half hour before clean up.” Logan laughed. “Tell me what you want and find us some seats.”

“I’m starving,” Tracy announced. “I want a Whopper, a Whaler, fries, and a big coke.”

“We’re all out of those,” Logan deadpanned. “How about a salad and milk?”

“Get Harding High Barbie the same thing,” Tracy continued, giving Logan a push on his chest without moving him an inch. “I don’t want my face lookin’ like a pizza and her making me look bad. We need to put some weight on her before she’s mistaken for Skipper.”

“Coming right up,” Logan chuckled at Storm’s sudden gasp of indignation and hurried away to get the food.

“That wasn’t very nice, Beyonce.”

“Hey,” Tracy protested. “I don’t… oh, okay… Skipper. Of course you know, this means war. I thought of something similar about those two juniors. They were both into that Goth look, like they watched the Matrix a few too many times.”

“Tracy, that’s huge!” Storm exclaimed, leaning forward with her hands on the table. “You need to talk to the police for sure.”

“Talk to the police about what?” Logan asked curiously, setting the tray of food down he was carrying. “What did you do now, Tracy?”

“Very funny, meatball,” Tracy retorted, taking one of her sandwiches out and giving Logan the wave off.

Storm explained what Tracy had remembered about the two missing girls she had been in class with the prior year. Logan listened with interest, glancing at Tracy as he began taking small bites of his sandwich. When Storm finished filling him in, he nodded in agreement.

“You need to tell the cops, Tracy. Have your Dad set up a meeting, where you can go in and explain what you know in detail. Storm’s right. It could be a real break, especially if the others were running with the black nail polish crowd.”

“I’ll talk to my Dad as soon as I get home,” Tracy promised, dipping a french-fry into the ketchup she had put on her sandwich wrapper. “Storm says we’re on for study group at her house on Saturday. Is noontime okay with you?”

“Sounds good. Who else will be coming?”

“Kevin MacGrath and Nancy Alverson from our Chem class said they were interested, so I’ll confirm them tomorrow,” Tracy answered. “Carol Wangden is a maybe. Knowing her, she’ll probably wait till she gets her first F.”

“Kevin, huh?” Logan reiterated knowingly.

“What?” Tracy immediately gave him a challenging look.

“You think no one’s noticed the looks you’ve been giving MacGraff when you think he ain’t watchin’?” Logan teased Tracy.

“I… okay, so what?”

“Just sayin’.” Logan shrugged innocently.

“Do you know Kevin?” Storm asked.

“Only a nodding acquaintance but he seems like a stand-up guy,” Logan answered.

“Logan doesn’t play well with others – of either sex.”

“I’m better than I was. The Marines helped me with my loner issues. I only pulled off the age thing by aping other guys. Tracy’s brother, Jim, helped me a lot. At first, when I saw him with the company I was assigned to in Iraq, I thought I was screwed. Jim laughed at me for being an idiot and showed me the ropes to stay alive.”

“I think he’s glad he had you around in the…” Tracy began.

“Let’s not bore Storm with anymore of this,” Logan interrupted quickly.

“I told her about you, Jarhead. You saved my brother’s life. It’s about time someone outside my family knew about it. If you don’t like it, tough. I’ll have Jim fly back here and beat you like a red haired stepchild.”

The three laughed together over Tracy’s threat before Logan replied.

“Jim saved my butt just by teaching me being a Marine isn’t about surviving boot-camp, it’s about honoring all who went before us through our actions. Anyway, I like Kevin. I knew he was interested in you, so I told him he ought to speak up because you were in love with him.”

“You did not!” Tracy went for Logan’s throat, with both Logan and Storm laughing. Logan warded her off with practiced ease.

“Okay…okay, I didn’t mention anything about you loving him,” Logan admitted, gripping Tracy’s wrists.

“I think I liked you better when you weren’t so outgoing.” Tracy eased back into her seat as Logan released her. “We’d better finish up and get going, or they’ll be sending someone out from the back to drag you behind the counter.”

“We’ve only been eating for fifteen minutes,” Logan said, looking at his watch. “I still have fifteen minutes coming to me. Storm didn’t inhale her food like you did. You ought to write a book on how to devour a meal while talking your head off.”

“Fine, we’ll hang for a little while longer,” Tracy replied, ignoring Logan’s send up of her eating habits. “But no more talk of our dating wish lists.”

“Deal,” Logan assented. “I see Storm has her book bag which means you’re extorting her to be your tutor. If you two can wait around until eight, I’ll lock up and Storm can give us both a little tutoring.”

“I guess we can find enough to do for now,” Tracy agreed. “We can head over to my house. My Dad’s always happy to see you and it’ll give me a chance to intro Storm to them.”

“Good, now what’s the real deal with your interest in the Perkins Park monster, Storm? Don’t give me your CSI cover story either.”

“Do I question your wanting to remain a Marine?” Storm pointed out. “It’s a calling.”

Logan laughed appreciatively and nodded. “Okay, I had that coming.”

“You’ll be getting more than verbal smack-downs if you mention my table manners again,” Tracy mumbled ominously, incongruously putting a huge last bite of her whopper in her mouth.

* * * *

“This is nuts, Carol,” Nancy Alverson repeated for the fifth time in a hushed voice.

Nancy stood next to Carol Wangden, and a third girl named, Christine Vasquez. The three young women were dressed in jeans and black hooded sweatshirts, looking very much alike in the growing darkness. They huddled behind a bank of bushes on an upper slope overlooking the circular pathway around Perkins Park. Dry piles of leaves rustled in the cool Fall breeze, their crisp scraping sounds making the three companions glance around fearfully whenever the wind picked up. They had avoided the patrol car which made passes at regular intervals, the mounted spotlight casting the lighted sections it highlighted in eerie relief to the darkening background.

“Will you shut-up?!” Carol gripped Nancy’s arm threateningly. “I gave you a chance to back out and you came along with us anyway.”

“Nancy’s right,” Christine said suddenly, standing up from where she had been crouching with the others. “I’m getting the hell out of here. This ain’t like playing Gremlins in our black hooded sweatshirts when we were in junior high school.”

“I’m staying,” Carol stated angrily, when Nancy straightened and walked over near Christine. “You two sissies go on before the Boogedy Man gets you.”

“Come on, Carol,” Nancy pleaded. “It was supposed to be like running up on the porch of a haunted house. I thought we’d go into the park and then run out. There’s something bad that took those girls and it’s real.”

“I’ve got my stun gun and pepper spray,” Carol said, waving the other two off. “I’m not afraid of this asshole.”

“You should be,” Christine said. “Let’s leave her to it, Nancy. We’ll walk home. We should never have let her drive us over here. Logan Stanfield works at the Burger King and I think he gets off at eight. He’d give us a ride. That way we don’t have to hear it from our folks when we’re late getting home.”

“Stanfield’s worse than this psycho terrorizing the park,” Carol retorted. “He’s probably murdered more people than this park jerk ever dreamed of.”

“You got shit for brains, Wangy,” Nancy retorted angrily. “Logan was a Marine in the war and you’re comparing him to this whacko out here taking teenage girls. I’ve had enough of this crap. C’mon, Chris.”

Carol watched her two friends walk hurriedly away, seething at the fact they had left her. She felt some relief her car was parked only a block away from the park to keep off the police radar. They were checking every license plate on all vehicles anywhere near the park. Fifteen minutes later, she was beginning to regret her decision.

The wind had picked up, swirling the crackling leaves around every few moments. Black and charcoal gray clouds rolled in, obscuring what little light there had been. In near darkness, every perceived movement sent chills shooting up Carol’s spine. She took some comfort in the lighting around the park pathway, but her night vision suffered when Carol looked away from the lighted area. Glancing continuously at her luminous watch dial, she rechecked her cell-phone for the hundredth time, making sure it was turned off. Fifteen more minutes, she thought, taking her stun gun out and turning it on.

Clutching the slim can of pepper spray in one hand and her stun gun in the other, Carol felt more reassured. The only reason she had engineered this ill conceived adventure was to impress Nancy and Chris. She swore under her breath remembering Nancy had given her an out. If Stanfield’s name had not come up, Carol knew she would have left with a little more prompting. Something about that self-righteous, scarred up goon rubbed her the wrong way.

Carol looked down toward the main park pathway, noticing a weird grainy aspect to her vision. The smell assaulted her olfactory senses, as the sulfurous odor of rotten eggs permeated the air around her. Carol gagged, stumbling as she turned too quickly. She fell backwards, landing on the hand holding her pepper spray. The can went sliding out from under her hand, and into the bushes. Carol triggered her stun-gun off and a thick blue arc crackled impressively as she extended it into the roiling film of darkness behind her. The entity gave ground momentarily, its pernicious trappings flowing in retreat with whatever hid inside. Carol, heart nearly pounding out of her chest, lurched upwards, continuing a steady bright blue sizzling snap from the electrodes of her stun-gun. Something gnarled and black snaked out from the darkness, raking across Carol’s wrist and sending the stun-gun flying out of her hand. Carol screamed in pain. She grabbed her injured wrist which bled profusely and ran for the road.

Tracy saw Nancy Alverson and Christine Vasquez hurry into the Burger King as if they were being chased. Both girls stopped abruptly inside the well lighted restaurant, visibly relieved to be there. Nancy looked around the nearly empty room, spotting Tracy and Storm with books spread out over the table they were at.

“Hey, Nanc,” Tracy greeted her with a wave. “C’mon over. What are you doing hanging around with Mistress Alverson, Chris? You slummin’?”

Storm turned in her seat, and waved at Nancy by way of greeting as the two girls walked toward their table. They laughed uneasily at Tracy’s greeting, glancing back outside through the large plate glass windows.

“Sit down, girls,” Tracy ordered. “Kind of late for fast food - what’s with the looks over the shoulder business? You two didn’t rob someone or something, did you?”

“We…we were messin’ around in the park with Carol,” Christine admitted.

“Carol’s a couple pancakes shy of a short stack,” Nancy added angrily, looking toward the counter. “Is Logan working tonight? We were hoping he could give us a lift home.”

“You two live across town, huh?” Tracy asked. “Oh yeah… Chris, this is Storm Crandall. She transferred in from Columbus, right?”

“Yes, Columbus,” Storm nodded. “Hi Chris.”

“Hey, you’re the one they’re making X-Men jokes about, huh?” Chris chuckled with a little wave of her hand. “Sophomore genius I’ve heard.”

“What in the world were you three doing in the park and where’s Carol?” Storm asked by way of reply.

“We used to have this stupid game we called Gremlins in junior high school,” Nancy answered. “Carol, Chris, and I would put on all black outfits, including black hooded sweatshirts. We’d climb up in this big tree out in front of Carol’s house when it got dark.”

“We’d scare the crap out of any kids straggling home,” Chris added. “Carol thought it’d be cool to hang out at Perkins, acting like Gremlins. I…I know how stupid this sounds, but…”

“Okay, but where’s Carol?” Storm repeated the question, a lump forming in her gut.

“She drove. We didn’t want to play anymore adolescent games, so she told us to take a hike,” Nancy retorted. “It’s freaky over there now with the damn wind blowing leaves around in the dark. I was creeped out just walking the short distance over here.”

“Me too,” Chris added. “Carol stayed and…”

“Anyhow,” Tracy said, looking at her watch, “it’s almost quitting time. Logan’s in the back. Hey, Tim, ask Logan to come out here, please.”

The young man at the counter smiled and nodded his assent, turning to walk into the back. Moments later, Logan walked around the counter, wiping his hands off on a clean towel.

“What’s up?” Logan asked, nodding familiarly at Nancy and Chris.

“Can you give Chris and I a ride home?” Nancy asked.

“Sure,” Logan agreed, looking puzzled. “What…”

“They were with Carol playing some kind of game in Perkins Park and Carol stayed there,” Storm blurted out, hoping Ted and Janet were listening.

Logan’s face darkened. Without saying another word, he tore off the apron he was wearing and gestured at Tim behind the counter.

“Something’s come up, Tim. We’re closing early tonight. Go ahead and take off.”

“Sure Logan,” Tim assented happily, hurrying around the counter and toward the door.

“Tracy, it’s best if you take Storm home. I’ll lock Nancy and Chris up here and go talk some sense into that dingbat in the park.”

“I’m going with you,” Storm said suddenly as Nancy and Chris agreed to Logan’s direction immediately.

“Me too,” Tracy announced.

“Remember your Dad,” Logan reminded, jogging toward the door.

“He threatened me about my car being around Perkins.” Tracy hurried out after Logan and Storm. “Besides, it’ll only take us a second to corral Carol.”

* * * *

Ted threw down his head set and raced up the stairs of the home they were coordinating their undercover operation from. Janet jumped from the couch where she had been watching TV on her break.

“Grab your stuff, Jan, Storm’s going with Logan and the Tracy girl over to Perkins Park,” Ted reported succinctly, grabbing his jacket near the door and heading out with Janet close behind. “Some other girls were playing games in the park. One of them stayed behind. Logan immediately realized that wasn’t a good idea.”

“So, what does Wendy have to do with it?” Janet asked as she slipped into the passenger side of their Honda Accord.

“It sounded like she was trying to tip us off to this being serious,” Ted answered, starting the car and backing it out of the driveway. “Anyway, when Logan said he was going after this Carol girl, Storm said she was going too, followed by Tracy.”

“Thanks Wendy…” Janet leaned back with a sigh. “How do we handle this without blowing our covers?”

“We were worried. We went out hunting for her. Don’t pull your gun in front of the kids. Remember you’re her mommy and not her FBI handler.”

“If I was her mommy, I’d jump out of the car and kick the crap out of her.”

“You’re not giving me a warm and fuzzy feeling about any future plans you might have about motherhood, Jan,” Ted laughed. “This is probably nothing anyway.”

* * * *

“Oh my God!” Tracy screamed from the backseat. “What the hell is that?!!”

Logan and Storm, glanced in the direction Tracy was pointing as Logan drove the car along Mahoning Avenue fronting the park. They saw a clearly terrified Carol running out of the adjacent sparsely wooded area with some kind of billowing blackness slouching after her. Logan jammed on the brakes of his Pontiac, reaching under the seat and coming up with a tape handled two foot long lead pipe.

“Stay here!” Logan ordered, exiting the car at a dead run.

Storm ignored him and went out the passenger side at the same pace. Tracy called out after Storm to no avail. She immediately decided the back seat of Logan’s small, two door Pontiac Grand Am was not the place to be. By the time she scrambled over the front seat and out the passenger side door, Carol had fallen and was scrambling on all fours, making heart rending little screams in between gasps for air. Tracy ran after her friends as the opaque cloud drew near Carol. Tracy heard a car screech to a halt behind her, and glanced back to see Ted and Janet clamber out of their Honda.

“What the…” Janet managed to exclaim before simply shutting up and following Ted, who had not paused for even a second before running after the convergence before them.

A gnarled, slimy, blackish limb snaked out of the darkness, reaching for Carol, who let out an ear piercing scream of pure terror. Logan swung at a dead run, connecting full force with the thing extending from the cloud. A hideous cracking sound as if fifty powder dry branches had snapped at once blotted out all sound for a split second before howls of agony and rage echoed out from the cloud. The blackness rolled back suddenly as Logan halted to face it, between it and Carol. Appearing to grow upwards, snapping wisps of fragmented nightmare lunged out of the cloud as Logan swung the lead pipe in short concerted strokes. Storm, controlling her breathing with difficulty, ran up beside Logan, her arms raised over her head, palms outward.

“EVOCATIO VALCYRIARUM, CONTUBERNALIA GLADIARIA,” Storm shouted out in commanding voice, repeating it over and over, as a torrent of wind driven debris hurtled into the darkness, driving it back.

With a final shriek of rage, the thing dissipated into the air as Tracy reached her friends. The silence following the disappearance of the black cloud hung in the air so thickly it felt almost as if it were a tangible substance. Logan gripped the lead pipe with both hands, his chest heaving, looking down at Storm in disbelief. Storm stood still in place, her arms upraised to the night sky. A stiff breeze blew her hair back in a panorama around her face. Eyes closed, and hands clenched in fists now instead of palms outward, Storm smiled a tight, thin lipped smile of satisfaction.

Last Note on Vegas

We had a drink at The Venetian and saw this show out by their waterfall. Very nice.

We rubes are home from Las Vegas now. I know everyone was waiting with baited breath for that announcement. :) I came out a little ahead and my wife a little behind on the gambling front. The journey home was uneventful. Our kids came to Las Vegas from Sacramento with us on their own dime so we all had a good time. One funny part I neglected to mention happens whenever my wife goes through security at the airport. She has one knee replaced and must be wanded every time through Checkpoint Charlie because the metal detector alarm goes off when my wife approaches. The Israelis wouldn’t give my wife a second look if we ever flew there, but we must be politically correct here and pretend middle-aged grandmas are a potential threat to air travel. Anyway, my son and daughter were in a different section of the airport at the same time for their flight to Sacramento. My son called while we were going through Checkpoint Charlie. He wanted to let my wife know they had made it to the airport on time. I had to tell him the security people were still wanding ‘Carlita the Jackal’. :)

More Vegas

The top picture is of the Encore from ground level. The second picture is of the famous carving in the Riviera building and the third is of course the Stratosphere.

My morning gambling excursion ended in a rather funny incident at the Encore. First though, I must write of the morning weather repeating Thursday’s clear, fresh coldness on my hike to the Stratosphere. I stopped in at the Riviera and Sahara on the way to check them out. Their ventilation is much improved and I liked the interiors much more than I remembered. At the Stratosphere where I figured to donate back part of my winnings from Thursday, my mission didn’t go the way I had planned. I actually came out ten bucks ahead again when I had to leave. I meet my wife for lunch everyday during her seminar break. She wants to make sure I’m not hanging out in the topless pool/bar area at the Encore. I would have too, but it’s been a bit chilly for swimmers, especially topless ones. My clothing for these hiking journeys is strictly rube fare – jeans, sleeveless black t-shirt, Irish Setter hiking boots, and of course my small backpack.

I arrived at the end of my journey near Encore’s beautiful entryway in the rear and was accosted by a very nice young man greeting the limousine arrivals. He was all smiles, perfect demeanor, and polite can I be of service look. My attire tripped his extrasensory perception Rube Alert. I may be up to no good, due to the fact I look like I just walked up from an Iowa cornfield. If I had his job, I’d have stopped me too. :)

“Hello, Sir, how are you today?” My sudden escort asks expansively, friendly as all get out.

“Very well, thanks,” I respond, noting he’s falling in alongside me.

“It is a beautiful morning, isn’t it? Are you a guest here, Sir?”

“Why yes, I am.” I prove it by digging my wallet out with the handsome red room key.

“Welcome back to the Encore, Sir. Have a great day.” He moves off with Rube Alert alarm reset.

“Thanks, I will.” It’s nice to belong. :)

Report From Las Vegas

View from the room at Encore.

I didn’t have anything going on Thursday in Las Vegas so after walking my wife to her seminar I decided to hike down the strip at 8:30 AM to the Stratosphere. It’s a few miles down the way, and if it weren’t for the seminar at Wynn’s Encore, we would have stayed there. They had a deal on their Romance Suite with huge room and Jacuzzi. The Encore is a beautiful place without the cigarette smoke permeated into every square inch. They opened in December last year. The room is gorgeous and the view breathtaking. It is not a blue collar hotel though. Us rubes don’t like room service or in room wet bars with prices on every item so expensive we could purchase stock in the liquor company for the same amount. The room goodies, as the woman at registration warned me, rest on state of the art sensors. If you pick one up for more than sixty seconds, it’s yours. Also in the extravagantly designed room – no coffee and coffee pot –no microwave – no refrigerator other than the one stocked to bursting with the aforementioned astronomically priced items – no free WiFi. The actual living accouterments surpass most places I’ve ever stayed at – huge tub and separate shower – dual sinks – the most comfortable bed ever – Hi Def TV in the bathroom wall – big screen Hi Def TV in the bedroom which swivels to be viewed from the sitting room – state of the art business desk with fax and printing capabilities at a price. Culinary good news is they have a huge number of fabulous restaurants. Bad news is if we ate in all of them during our four day stay we’d have to mortgage the house. Enter Rescue Rube – a mini-market, liquor store, and Dennie’s next door. :)

I should have timed the hike down the Strip toward the Stratosphere. It took me nearly half an hour I believe. The sky and air were desert clear with cold springtime temperatures so it was a very enjoyable walk. I passed landmark gamblers’ spots I’ve been in before - The Riviera and Sahara. They herald low price buffets and single deck blackjack. The Stratosphere casino is huge and provides a very comfortable atmosphere. Their up escalator takes you to the mall area which was a rube paradise, featuring a McDonalds, a Chinese restaurant, and many shops from which blue collar hicks like me could purchase stuff without calling the bank for a loan. I surveyed their fitness room, which unlike the spa/fitness palace at the Encore, was free to guests and adequate. Best of all, during my visit, I won enough money in a few minutes gambling to pay for an extravagant meal at the Encore. I will have to trek down there again today and donate this time. :)

Storm Undercover

Here's Chapter 2. I think some humor starts in this one. :)

Storm waited for Logan. She looked up at him questioningly as he exited the classroom with a smile on his face. Logan shrugged.

“He just said sorry for talking about my injury,” Logan answered the unasked question.

“You like history, I see,” Storm commented. “It wasn’t anywhere near as boring with you and Kensington trading shots.”

“Do you have lunch this period?” Logan asked. “I know Tracy does.”

“Yes.”

“Good, want to sit with us?”

“Sure, but don’t you hang out with the guys?” Storm joked.

“Not if I can hang out with two hotties.”

“Hotties?”

“Sorry, did I say that out loud? Did you brown bag today?”

“Right again,” Storm replied, as she kept pace with Logan through the crowded noisy hallway. “Lunch is in my book bag here. I don’t have anything to drink though.”

“We’ll get it on the way outside. We eat over by the track. It’s nice there, if it’s not raining.”

Tracy waved from under a tree bordering the fenced in track. She had spread out two black plastic garbage bags. She munched on a sandwich as Logan and Storm walked up the grassy hill from the surrounding sidewalk. Tracy was giggling, and pointing at the two of them as they approached.

“What are you laughin’ at?” Logan asked, giving Storm a hand with her bag as she sat down.

“You really haven’t put it together yet? The rest of the school has.”

Logan looked at Storm. “Do you know what amuses food face?”

“Nope,” Storm answered truthfully.

“The X-men, Wolverine and Storm,” Tracy said patiently.

“Dave already hit me up about the X-men this morning,” Storm said. “What does Wolverine have to do with it?”

Logan smacked himself in the forehead with the palm of his hand, as Tracy started nodding and laughing. “Logan. Wolverine’s name is Logan. Storm has white hair in the comics.”

“Too bad you don’t have Wolvy’s healing factor, huh Jarhead?” Tracy chortled.

“Yea, that would’ve come in handy,” Logan admitted, grinning back at his friend. “You aren’t too into the X-Men, huh Storm?”

“I didn’t just land on the planet today,” Storm replied. “But I admit it, I’ve never seen the movies and I don’t read comic books. Are we really a big joke now? Logan and I have only walked down the school hallway together twice.”

“Just a little one,” Tracy answered, holding up her hand with forefinger and thumb held slightly apart. “I may have exaggerated slightly with the whole school comment. Get ready for a few X-Man jokes though.”

“Wolverine, huh?” Storm said, looking at Logan appraisingly, with hand under her chin. “He’s the little hairy guy with claws, right?”

“Heh, heh, heh, very funny,” Logan replied, as Tracy began laughing again. “You two want to swing by the King for free fast food later? It’s on me.”

“I’ll check with my folks.” Tracy nodded. “I’m sure it’ll be okay. They’re a little freaked about the kids disappearing from around Perkins Park. My Dad told me if he sees my car anywhere near there I’ll wish I had been kidnapped.”

“Storm mentioned the park too,” Logan added. “I guess I’m not up on this stuff except I know five kids went missing in a short time.”

“I think my folks will let me go,” Storm replied to Logan’s initial invitation, listening closely to her friends’ talk about the kidnappings.

“I’ll pick you up,” Tracy offered. “Where do you live?”

“On Willard Ave,” Storm answered, taking a notepad out of her book bag. “Here, I’ll write the address for you. Where do you live?”

“Linden,” Tracy replied, taking the paper from Storm. “Hulk here lives over on Franklin so we’re all within a mile of each other. I’ll swing by and get you around six.”

“Okay, now what about this study group talk?”

“Saturday during the day is good for me,” Logan said. “I work the three to eleven shift at the King on Saturday.”

“Kevin and Nancy are in,” Tracy told them, looking pointedly at Storm. “Now, where are we going to hold this love fest? Any ideas, Storm?”

“Well… I…”

“You are an only child, Ms. Crandall,” Tracy persisted. “The rest of us have fellow brood members.”

“How do you know I’m… oh yeah, Powanda’s class intro. Okay, I’ll ask tonight. Do either of you know if they came up with anything connecting those kids who were taken?”

“I don’t…” Tracy hesitated. “They were all from Harding, but different grades. I think I read they were all girls too. Why, you writin’ a detective novel, Nancy Drew?”

“I watch a lot of CSI,” Storm answered, thinking of her earlier conversation with the Chemistry teacher, Mrs. Deemer. “I can’t figure out why…”

“You want to know why monsters do monstrous things,” Logan cut in abruptly. “They do them because they’re monsters. To catch a monster you must think like a monster. If this really interests you I’ll ask around at work. In the meantime, don’t play around with this. Interest is one thing. Not respecting danger is another.”

Logan’s intensity ended the talk of kidnappings in Perkins Park. Storm shivered. The wind picked up making it chilly despite the sun being out.

“You should have worn your Secret Squirrel coat, girl,” Tracy teased her. She laughed when Storm looked up at her in surprise. “Dave’s comment from this morning was overheard and repeated a few times at school.”

“Oh no, not the fashion police!” Storm exclaimed with false candor, evoking more laughter from her friends. “I guess everything is fair game around here. You’re a little too up on every rumor and comment made at school, friend.”

“It’s a curse.” Tracy shrugged.

“We better head back,” Logan suggested, looking at an old Timex watch he had on his right wrist. “One bad thing about work after school is if I get detention I’m toast at work.”

“They give detention for being late to study hall?” Tracy kidded him.

“Three guesses who monitors my study hall, and two don’t count,” Logan retorted, getting up quickly and pulling his two friends to their feet. They groaned in unison.

“Mrs. Deemer,” Tracy stated knowingly as the three walked down to the sidewalk off the small hill. “That explains your clock watchin’ toward the end of lunch every day. Trig’s the last class, Storm. Why don’t I take you home and see where you live then.”

“Sure, if you don’t mind,” Storm agreed.

“To get the ride, you need to help me with two Trig problems I didn’t get done.” Tracy winked at Logan.

“That seems like harmless extortion. Deal.”

* * * *

Storm waved at Tracy as she pulled away from the curb after having driven Storm home. Storm walked the few paces up the walkway, leading to her front porch. She paused for a moment, looking up at the two story red brick house and then side to side at her neighbors’ similar structures. Storm missed the city, but this could be a real short stay here in Warren if she were able to actually help.

“Coming in, folks,” Storm said quietly enough to be received inside, but not loud enough for anyone further than five feet away to hear. She opened the front door slowly and stepped inside the small foyer.

By the time she hung up her coat and wiped her feet, a woman in her late thirties with light brown hair and angular features walked through the living room to meet her. She was slightly taller than Storm and nearly twenty pounds heavier. Storm smiled, seeing the black slacks and pale blue blouse the woman wore.

“Hi, Janet, I see Ted has ordered you out of your Men In Black look.”

“Never mind.” Janet grinned, waving a warning finger at Storm. “Remember, Ted and I have a whole lot of ammo to fire back with after today, Miss Popularity.”

“Uh oh.”

“Yea, the shit hit the fan today, didn’t it?” Janet chuckled, gesturing for Storm to follow her. “I should have quit driving you to school the second day.”

Janet whipped around in time to see Storm just about to speak. “No I told you so, brat. I’ve been hearing enough of that today from your pet monkey, Ted.”

“Does he know you call him my pet monkey?” Storm gasped in fake surprise, knowing the two FBI agents traded much more salty terms between the two of them.

“Hey, I want to remind you I almost had to blow our covers this morning and kick those three gang wannabes’ asses. Don’t give me that know it all look either.”

“I did point them out to you all last week when they were torturing other innocent kids going to school,” Storm reminded her. “If you’d found a way to put them in juvy for the next month they wouldn’t have jeopardized my first on foot school approach. These things happen at high school. It led to some decent progress for a change. I told…”

“Jesus H… I mean… stop with the I told you so shit,” Janet cut her off. She continued into the kitchen and then through a door leading down to the cellar. “We know the sophomore in with the big kids gig was tough to pull off, but it ain’t like we’re getting anywhere running around with teams of profilers.”

“Nice work out there today, kid,” a sandy haired man, sitting in front of a computer station with multiple monitors and keyboards called out without looking up. “You made up for a week of nothing in one day.”

“Thanks, Ted,” Storm replied, looking over the man’s shoulder as Janet sat down in a seat near him. “Did you know you’re my…”

“Pet monkey.” Ted sighed audibly. “Yeah, I know. Genius here forgot in two seconds the little fact you were still on speaker.”

“What makes you think so, Archibald?” Janet fired back, but Storm could see from her expression she had forgotten. “Tell this little criminal it was a damn good thing we didn’t pick up her welcoming committee before.”

“Little crim…” Storm began, but then shut up as Janet glanced back at her with an I got you look. “Okay, his old man is County Commissioner, so what? We’re the FBI.”

“We…we?” Janet repeated in sarcastic tone. “Ted and I are FBI. You’re a little computer hacker who could be spending time till her eighteenth birthday in hard case juvy. You’ve got skills, Nancy Drew, but don’t think for a moment…”

“Heyyyyyy… easy there, Scully,” Storm put up her hands in mock surrender. “It was just an innocent editorial we. Besides, because of me, the FBI was able to shore up a hole in their Homeland Security database. They should have pinned a medal on me and…”

“Why you…” Janet started out of her chair. A laughing Ted caught her arm, pulling Janet back down. “If it weren’t for your parents’ upstanding reputation in the community, you’d be in an orange jumpsuit, smart-ass. You aren’t doing her any favors egging her on, Archibald.”

“Storm’s holding up her end of the deal,” Ted reminded Janet. “I’m not egging her on. You just keep feeding her hanging sliders. She keeps popping them over the center field fence. Whoever’s grabbing these girls is going to hit again. We have zero leads: no bodies, no ransom notes, no DNA, no nothing. One of these kids at the school knows something. Storm’s our only chance of getting a back door into this.”

“Her parents calling every few hours is driving me nuts,” Janet retorted. “Give her a damn throwaway cell-phone and let her check in with them.”

“I had a talk with her Dad,” Ted replied, trying to calm his partner down while Storm looked on in amusement. “They’re going to limit the calls to one a day when she’s here. We should give her a cell-phone though, just in case our bug gets zapped. Can we trust her Jan?”

“They don’t allow cell-phone use in school anyway so it’d be emergency only,” Storm reasoned excitedly, warming to the idea of having a cell-phone again.

“I don’t know, Ted, she’s a criminal. Hey, we lose contact with you and I’ll be standing next to you in two minutes,” Janet stated in no uncertain terms. “We aren’t using you as bait. I’m not facing your parents if…”

“The only way anything will happen to me is if I wander around the Perkins Park area,” Storm interrupted. “Every one of those girls…”

“Yeah, yeah… we know,” Janet cut her off. “No one’s letting their kids skip around in that park any more and they have patrols in the area 24/7. This weasel will strike outside his usual haunts - wait and see.”

“If Storm can find some link between the five girls, we might…” Ted began.

“The damn profilers have been over everything those kids did in their entire lives. The only thing they have in common is they all went to Harding High School,” Janet interrupted, beginning to tick off points on her fingers. “They were different races, though not all different. They were in three different age groups, one sophomore, two juniors, and two seniors. We had rich and poor. They lived…”

“They had one thing we know of in common,” Storm broke in, before Janet could tick off her last finger. “They were all scholastic honor roll. It was in the summary you gave me on them.”

“So?”

“You don’t think there were underachievers who frequented Perkins Park? We’re tossing out facts, right?”

“You may have a point,” Ted replied. “I’ll check and see if our profiling team picked up on it. We heard you’re heading out for a fast food dinner. I like those two kids you attracted, if you can call an ex-marine with combat experience and a Navy Cross a kid.”

“He’s not an ex-marine. If he does well in school, the Marines want to make him an officer after he gets out of classes,” Storm explained.

“Definitely not a kid.” Ted nodded approvingly.

“He sure turned off the jerks chasing Storm,” Janet agreed. “Why didn’t we pick up on that kid before? With the shots I took the first week driving her into school, coupled with the hidden video pickup on the back of Storm’s bag, we should have had the Logan boy singled out the first day.”

“Can’t get everything the first go round.” Ted shrugged dismissively. “We have every sneeze since childhood on him now. His story about where he was during the kidnappings checked out. During the first snatches, he was still in Iraq.”

“Your friend Tracy’s as good as gold too,” Janet added. “Her Dad’s first gen from Haiti and worked his way through college with scholarships and grant money. He’s a CPA with Jennings Glass Company. Her Mom’s local, born and raised, with a nursing degree. She has one sibling in junior high school, a thirteen year old brother, and a twenty year old brother you’ve already heard about. He’s a marine stationed in San Diego.”

“I’m sure you heard the details of a study group Tracy volunteered our house for. Would it be a big problem, or can I tell her we’ll do it?”

“We did hear about it. Jan figures we can manage it within an hour’s warning,” Ted answered, glancing over at his partner for confirmation.

“Just as long as I don’t have to provide snacks, I don’t care,” Janet added.

“Logan’s parents are on the other rung of the economic ladder.” Ted pointed at his computer screen, returning to the business at hand. “Dad’s a machinist. Mom takes care of the home and Logan’s three younger sisters. Two are in grammar school. One’s in seventh grade. Looks like you have a solid base you can trust. We’re working on the others you talked to but they seem harmless.”

“What about that punk Dave and the twins?” Storm asked, peering at the screen.

“We were kind of waiting for you to polish up your computer skills,” Ted answered, trading venomous stares with Janet. “I’ve assured Jan I’ll be with you every moment.”

Storm’s countenance changed completely. She raised her hands up and did a remarkable job mimicking a typist in full work mode. She had only been allowed to use the base programs loaded on an old Dell laptop for her homework. Storm had been rewarded with a brand new Apple state of the art laptop for her fifteenth birthday after maintaining a 4.0 grade point average throughout junior high school. It had been equipped with six gigabytes of RAM, and dual processors. Storm had promptly taken a dare from friends to begin her hacking career. She learned quickly over the next few months, picking up tips and programming backdoors from websites her parents knew nothing about. Her Dad had monitored her with what little knowledge he had. Watching the computer prodigy endlessly typing lines of computer programming data simply convinced him his daughter was indeed learning to be a computer whiz, rather than a criminal. Three months before her sixteenth birthday, FBI agents showed up at their door. They took Storm into custody. Storm’s hacking days were over.

“I’ll be watching you,” Janet stated, shifting her forefinger and middle-finger from her eyes to Storm’s in a comically warning fashion.

“What more can I do? I made a mistake and hacked in where I didn’t belong. How did I know I would actually get through to the FBI database?”

“That was where you were headed,” Ted reminded her. “Anyway, you’ll have to earn your way back from the dark side. This is a good start, but we take no chances, understood?”

“I understand, but having you two listening into every word is humiliating.”

“Ah, poor baby.” Janet chuckled. “That bit Tracy and apparently the rest of the school picked up on having to do with the X-Men was really funny. Even your pet monkey was cracking up.”

“I couldn’t believe you’re not up on the X-Men,” Ted chimed in, as he stood up away from his seat and motioned Storm into it.

“Oh yeah, don’t be doing any of that voodoo stuff on the internet either,” Janet ordered. “We read your rap sheet from the last high school you terrorized.”

“Terrorized?!” Storm swiveled toward Janet from Ted’s computer seat in surprise. “What the hell did they have… oh… you mean the incident at the dance.”

“One and the same. You made another girl’s clothes disappear. What was that all about and what did it have to do with the internet?”

“I…I don’t know what happened to her clothes,” Storm answered, returning her attention to the computer screen. “It was a gag. I’d been hacking into sites on-line with claims of being part of a world wide witch coven with supernatural origins. My friends thought it was cool I could get into it. I hacked through the site and into one of the so-called Order’s high up member’s files while they were on line.”

“My girlfriends and I sifted through all the weirdo spells and incantations, looking for God knows what. It was all in Latin which bored the crap out of my friends. They left, and I downloaded a cipher program from a college database which translated Latin. From there I found a few things of interest and started experimenting. At…”

“You mean casting spells?” Ted asked, sitting down in a chair on the other side of Storm.

“Just some simple stuff that didn’t involve parts of animals or sacrifices. My friends and I were standing in our official place at the dance, gossiping to cover the fact we weren’t there with boyfriends, when this bitch walked by. Suzan Grenville was one of those cheerleading freakazoids they made the movie ‘Mean Girls’ about. Anyway, she made some remark about my friend Kathy’s dress that made her tear up. I watched her walk away and chanted the spell for making material things disappear, thinking of her clothes. There was this shimmering sensation in the air and the next moment there was mean Suzy standing in the buff on bare feet. My…”

“Oh come on!” Janet cut her off. “You think Ted and I just dropped in from the moon. Are you trying to tell us…”

“Let her finish,” Ted insisted. “You asked her about it. The chaperone’s story who heard Storm chanting matches what she’s told us. It freaked the woman out enough to call the police on you, although they naturally blamed it on a stunt by this girl Suzan involving tear away clothing.”

“You think Mrs. Greevy was freaked, you should have seen my friends.” Storm sighed, leaning on the computer desk and putting her head in her hands. “They inched away from me as if they were in the elevator scene from Ghostbusters, where the geek fires up his nuclear accelerator, and the other Ghostbusters backed away from him like he was about to explode. I was a loner from then on. You should have seen that bitch Suzy though. It was worth it.”

“So you actually think you made the clothes disappear?” Ted asked quietly.

“Well, I don’t know where they went. They were on her before I chanted the spell.”

“Bullshit!” Janet exclaimed, giving Storm the wave-off with her hand. “Make my clothes disappear, Wendy. C’mon, we want to see you do your trick.”

“I…I’ve tried it since then,” Storm admitted, her fingers flying over the keyboard as Ted watched her in amazement. “Nothing happened. I thought maybe it was due to the anger intermixed with doing the spell. For a moment at the dance I believed I could do it while I was chanting. I haven’t been able to duplicate the feelings or concentration or whatever made it work.”

“I don’t know about witchcraft but you have some serious skills on the keyboard,” Ted remarked, gesturing for Janet to look more closely at the rapidly moving screens. “You will tell us if you ever have a repeat of your little magic trick, won’t you?”

“Oh, come on, Ted!” Janet looked at her partner with undisguised exasperation. “If it ever gets out we’re buying into Wendy’s witchcraft fantasy, they’ll tag us as Scully and Spooky Mulder all over the department. What… holy crap… those three little punks have been in trouble since they were born.”

“Storm!” Ted exclaimed. “Those juvy records are sealed. You can’t… how the…”

“Go, Wendy!” Janet pushed Ted aside and put her hands on Storm’s shoulders. “Now this kind of witchcraft I can go along with.”

“If she gets caught, we’re up…”

“I’m out,” Storm said calmly. “I never made a ripple and with this server, I banged the signal all over the Western Hemisphere. No worries, Ted.”

“Jesus,” Ted whispered, looking at Dave’s juvenile record. “This kid has been into everything from torturing animals to burglary and car theft. How the hell does his old man get him off on this kind of trouble?”

“I don’t know,” Janet replied excitedly. “But I think we have our first real suspect.”

“As much as I can’t stand to look at this guy,” Storm sighed, pushing back from the desk, “Dave doesn’t have the brains to spell kidnapping let alone pull off five of them without leaving a clue. If the twins ever had a thought between them, it died of loneliness. I wanted to see what they were capable of in reality, so I don’t get blindsided in school.”

“This isn’t New York City, Storm.” Janet returned to her seat and began typing at her own keyboard. “Ted and I know something about monsters. Small cities like Warren have a finite number of monsters and potential monsters. If Dave and his moron sidekicks don’t know the real monster, odds are they’ve run across him scurrying around in their favorite rat’s nests.”

“Jan’s right,” Ted agreed, sitting down in his chair again. “You have done well, young Jedi. Let the old pros turn these guys lives inside out and see what pops up.”

“Okay, Spooky, I’ll go do my homework until Tracy picks me up. I’m trading in on my dazzling intelligence to make friends. You and Scully play nice.”

“Not funny,” Janet called out, as Storm trekked up the stairs. “Don’t you dare turn off the wire when you go out either.”

Storm retreated a couple of steps. “Hey, can I have a cell-phone. I give you my word I will not…”

“It’s on the kitchen table. We were screwing with you,” Ted broke in. “We decided to give you one the moment you agreed to go out tonight. It’s bugged so keep it with you. Jan will be out and about. I wouldn’t advise getting to know Wolverine in the biblical sense.”

“Only if you promise not to fool around with Scully here behind my back,” Storm fired off a last shot before running toward the steps.

“You little… let me go Ted… I’m gonna’ smack Wendy around until her teeth rattle.” Janet tried to get out of Ted’s iron grip, but he held on to her, still chuckling over a sixteen year old who could keep pushing their buttons without breaking a sweat.

“Ease up, it was my fault for feeding her the Wolvy line,” Ted pointed out. “She’s fast on her feet and with her mouth. All good things on this gig.”

Janet stared in the direction of the stairs a moment longer before slumping back in her seat. “One of these days, you won’t be around to watch over Wendy. Then her and I will have the Mother/Daughter talk her own Mom should have had with her already: the one about be careful who you disrespect, they might just kick your ass.”

“It is disconcerting to be constantly pinged by a teenager,” Ted agreed. “After she’s out with her friends, want to fool around a little, Scully?”

“You wish, Spooky,” Janet retorted, pushing Ted’s shoulder roughly.

“I wish Wendy would have made your clothes disappear.” Ted laughed, blocking the elbow Janet immediately launched toward his ribcage.