Part One - Evil Times 3 - Chapter Four

“Alrighty, guys, listen up. I just left the captain’s office, and he’s authorized some overtime for twelve men. It's rougly three hours, but I told the captain, four hours.”

“Way to go, Baker! Now if you can fix it so we can all sleep in and still get paid ….” Campbell’s voice trailed off.

Others in the room laughed or chuckled.

“Stow it, Campbell. And you’re welcome, all the same.

“Everyone here knows about the double-homicide that just went down. I have a hunch the killer may rear his ugly little head this Sunday. The two victims were members of the church, and he may be attending church services.

“I’m looking for twelve people to sit in any one of the pews, armed but concealed, take notes, watch for any signals from Bishop Ekerson. Look for anyone there that may look out of the ordinary. He is about Father Ekerson’s height, 5’8”, and likely to be sitting alone. Perps like him almost never have a family.”

“Question Baker?”

“Answer, Ed.”

“How do we take him down if we don’t know what he looks like? And how do we take him down inside a packed church?”

“Second answer, first. Each one of you will be wired for sound to communicate with one another. If he is our guy, we have the manpower already there to apprehend him with the least amount of resistance. I doubt if the perp will be armed in church. He is more than likely believing he’s in the clear.

“First answer, second. That, Ed, is the luck of the draw. If he is there, he’ll give himself away. And if not this Sunday, maybe not for a month of Sunday’s, but eventually they always do.

“If any of you have any reasonable suspicion about any male in church, you can detain him at least for questioning, and his background will be investigated. Even trivial details play a crucial role. A two-day growth of hair on his face. Hair not combed right. Eyes bloodshot. Clothes not appropriate for church, such as blue jeans instead of trousers. Be observant.”

Rodgers, an eighteen-year veteran spoke from the back of the room.

“If he isn’t there, then what?”

“Simple. You get filled with the scripture, go home, and enjoy the rest of your Sunday, and I’ll see you back here Monday morning.”

At Baker’s Townhouse – 9:56 p.m.

“You are just too good for me, Stevie. I need to practice this game more often, so it seems.”

“It’s okay, mom. I sucked at it when I first started to learn the game, too.”

They smiled at each other.

“Well, my little crime-solver you; time for bed. After breakfast in the morning, we’ll take a ride over to Standing Room Lake, like I promised. You might be able to add to your shell collection.”

“Cool deal. Love you, mom. Goodnight.”

Stevie stood up, hugged her briefly and she kissed him on the cheek, and then went to his room.

She shut down her computer and television for the night, placing Mortal Kombat 6 back into its CD case, then headed for the shower, and then bed.

In her bedroom, she stripped down to the buff, shower water running, and stopped to look at herself in her full-length mirror on the bathroom door.

She saw a thirty-six-year-old woman, short brown hair, and brown eyes, with a few lines around each one. Her complexion was still smooth, and not paying attention to the two scars; she still had a decent looking body in excellent condition. At 5’6”, and 135, she looked five years younger.

Just last month, she took first place in the Judo Championship via six police leagues. She beat three women and five men.

Since the divorce, it had been nothing but work, and more work. She drowned herself in her job to take her mind off a fourteen-year-old marriage that went to hell in eleven, and never talked about for three.

Some things you never see coming. When you do; too late.

At least there is Stevie. He brings a light into her life that was turned off during the divorce. With Stevie nearby, he understands her.

Work or no work, she loves him.

Unconditionally.