Book Three: Part 7 - Varied Evil - Chapter 9

The Baker-Manning Home – 8:30 p.m.

111 Homestead Lane

Tonight, and for the next several nights, the Baker-Manning household would have a guest. Leon Hargrove.

Baker just couldn’t allow him to be held over in juvenile protective services. She personally saw to it the charges against him were dropped, which took a lot of talking on her part, both with the owner of Johnny P’s, and the judge.

Judge Carver did give her a warning.

“If, after this surgery is performed, further complications arise, or in the event the mother unavoidably dies, I will mandate the county to take charge of her son, Leon Hargrove, into custody as a ward of the state until such time a relative can be located to provide for him.”

Baker explained it all to Leon, and he understood.

That first night, Leon and Stevie played computer games and watched a couple movies on Stevie’s TV.

Baker and Ed talked about his upcoming surgery.

“I told you, Ed, whatever you choose to do, I’m with you all the way.”

“I figured that much. Still, just saying if it doesn’t work out, I’ll be minus one arm for keeps this time.”

“I get that. But the rest of you will be intact and your mind will still function.

“I’m not so certain this will.” She made a playful grab at his crotch. Ed swatted her hand away. They were both laughing.

“That’ll still be working fine. It’s the arm that’s going, just the arm!”

The Weekend In Montie

The month of April always gave prominence to the city with all of the majestic colors of the flowers found in so many yards, landscapes, and the fullness of the trees when in full-bloom leafy limbs. Everywhere you looked, there was color to be found.

Several years ago, a photographer from a New York City travel bureau came to do a cover story on Montie. Although Montie isn’t a tourist city, it did bring in about 25,000 visitors who wanted to take pictures of the Roseanne and Charles Johnson’s prized rose garden for one. Two acres of plush beautiful red, white, and yellow roses. There were also perennials and violets nurtured carefully by the Johnson’s; who have been married forty-six years.

The restaurants always fared well during this time as well. It was usually standing-room only throughout April.

Several years ago, to now hasn’t lessened the spirit of residents. People still walk by one another and give a warm hello, or a quick good morning, or afternoon. That’s just the way Montie is; friendly. Even when trouble comes to town.

But there wouldn’t be any trouble this weekend.

Friday night would find the Montie Arena packed tighter than a sardine can as three music acts appeared. Billed simply as ‘The tour’, Journey, Chicago, and Neil Diamond, were on a fifty-city tour, and Montie was one of the lucky places to be chosen.

That night, people for miles around came to relive days gone by. The younger crowd even got into it, realizing they were watching legends perform.

Saturday, found people outside experiencing warmer days. The city park was a prime example as softball games were being played, tennis courts were in use, and even a game of frisbee football was in progress. Young and old alike were out and about.

On each corner of the park, you would find food vendors selling their hot dogs, hot pretzels, doughnuts, cold drinks, cotton candy, and other assorted foods. It was like this every Saturday when the weather was good.

As all this is going on, the police are out in force doing their job, patrolling the city streets, keeping, and maintaining the peace.

The day was relatively quiet for the likes of Rick Lowery and Charlie Banyard. Their only confrontation was a speeder. An older woman was giving them the riot act.

“Why pick on me? I’m just an old woman. There must be some dangerous criminals out there you could arrest instead of picking on me. You should be ashamed of yourself.

“I really didn’t mean to drive so fast. You know how these new compacts are these days. Besides, there are all those high-school kids you can give tickets to instead of an old woman like me!”

She still got a citation to appear in court in twenty days, or just pay a hundred and twenty-five-dollar fine and be done with it.

They both heard her mutter as she drove away. “Probably lose my damn car insurance over this.”

Henry Clauson and Terrance Klugston had it easy. They got to patrol the city park area.

Every weekend when the weather was good, a team was assigned park duty which meant walking the yard. The real reason was in case any thefts occurred, mainly purse snatchings were the big thing. But with the police around, that rarely, if ever happened. Another reason they were there was for any kind of accidents. On this particular weekend, nothing happened.

Only two things happened to Henry Clauson. Ketchup from Klugston’s hot dog dripped on his blue shirt. Later, ice-cream dripped onto his pants. Neither the hot dog or the ice-cream were charged or arrested for anything.

Johnathan Prescott and Dianne Andrews had the weekend off. They went for a drive to Summit Point. The sun was sitting Twelve o’clock, and a slight warm breeze whipped across their bodies along with the scenery had set the mood for both of them.

It was here Johnathan and Dianne walked hand-in-hand. Dianne’s head resting against his shoulder, and both were smiling. This was their quiet time away from friends, and their work, to enjoy what surrounded them. Johnathan stopped, and looked at Dianne intently, then kissed her.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say I can’t use against you. But if you say, yes Johnathan, I’ll marry you, then consider that my asking you to be my wife and just not my partner in crime. So, what do you say, Officer Andrews?”

Dianne smiled, reached up and kissed him lightly on the lips.

“I imagine, Officer Prescott, it may be in my best interest to not take the fifth on this. I accept.”

Across town, Baker, Ed, Stevie, Ellie, and Leon drove over to Masonville. In the process, Ed drop an envelope in the mail. It held the check for his surgery: $175,000.

But in Masonville, that afternoon was where the air-balloon races were held. Over fifty helium-filled balloons would take flight from Masonville, turn south toward Brighton, then west toward Montie, then back northeast to Masonville.

Once they saw the balloons take off, they waited around until they were out of view. Leon asked, “That was cool, but where’s the gas tank on those things?”

As they made their way toward their second journey, lunch at Rastabella’s Italian Eatery, Stevie explained how hot air-balloons worked.

Ordering from Rastabella’s was always a treat. You could choose from thirty-eight different types of pizza to traditional pasts foods. One things was with certainty;

Rastabella’s was the best pasta place within a hundred miles from anywhere.

From there, it was back home. Stevie and Ellie had plans to go to a movie. Baker and Ed would spend a quiet night with no emergency phone calls. With Leon in Stevie’s room watching a movie, it wouldn’t be much longer before he was asleep. Peace and quiet was unfolding across the city.

J.W, was preparing to go back to work. He was a very fortunate man. Had the blade been two inches to his left, he would have been in the ground. It wasn’t his first rodeo getting hurt on the job, but this had been the most painful, as well as longest recovery process spent away from his job. But he would be ready to go come Monday.

Cisco and Poncho would be reunited and back in the saddle very soon.

Patrick sat on his porch, sipping a cold beer and marveling at the night sky. Trillions upon trillions of stars twinkled. Bothe the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper, along with the Archer, and Sagittarius could be plainly seen. And the moon, so full and bright, seemingly low enough that one could almost snatch it from the night sky and put it in their pocket.

It had been a long several years he had seen a night like this. The last time was in Delaware, when he and Daniel spent a weekend at Rehoboth Beach. He took another sip of beer.

Patrick smiled as a tear rolled off his cheek.

Monday – April 9th – 8:39 a.m.

The Squad Room

“Okay guys. One last thing before you head out. J.W. is back with us once again. Now Cisco won’t be so lonely anymore.”

“Yeah, Andre has been acting prissy lately,” said Clausen. “I think his panties are in a twist.”

Everyone laughed.

“I got your panties,” said Andre, smiling.

“Seriously,” Andre spoke over the voices of everyone, “J.W., welcome back. You, my friend, have been missed.

“Check your inboxes everybody for changes in shift schedules. If there are no questions, then get out there and stay safe, and keep our streets safe.”

90 Miles South Of Montie - 10:30 a.m.

Fred Creasy and Bertram Ballmate, were having their fun, and ever since they left Kentucky, they had also left a trail behind them, leaving many residents angry and upset, some in tears, others, devastated.

Each police department throughout Kentucky had no leads as to who was doing the killings, other than knowing by the bullet removed, what type of weapon was used to kill various animals: horses, cows, pigs, and dogs.

As Fred said to Bertram, “If they can’t spade or neuter their friggin’ animals, we just do it fer’em!”

“Ya got that right, Fred. If it weren’t fer us holdin’ down the population of them pesky animals, no tellin’ how many other critters be runnin’ around.”

Just two good old boys doing what they feel needs to be done.