Suspect

Officer Sean Timmons sighed as he parked his cruiser. It had been a long night. Normally, this was a pretty quiet town, boring even. Sean liked the quiet. It was one of the reasons Sean relocated here from Las Vegas. But the night had not been a normal one. First, there was the report about the abandoned car outside of town. The red Ford was idling on the shoulder, driver's door open and no sign of the owner. Sean had been finishing up checking out the owner's residence when he got the call about this incident - a car off the street and crashed on a lawn.

As Sean stepped out of his patrol car, a man wearing only boxer shorts approached him. Sean raised his hand, unsure of the man's intentions. "Just a minute. Stop right there." Sean said in an authoritative voice. The man stopped and put his hands up.

"Officer," Rusty began, "I live here. This woman is crazy. I think she's been stalking me!"

Sean looked over toward the car. "The driver, you mean?"

Rusty nodded. "I've seen her car outside my place before. I used to work with her. She's not sane. She's in her car, talking to her cat."

Sean nodded as if he'd heard this kind of story a thousand times before. He took Rusty's name and radioed the station. Rusty hadn't called the police but he surmised that his nosy neighbor, Mrs. Pryor, probably did. Apparently, she was a bit of a busy-body and kept track of the comings and goings of the street. Her type may be annoying to the neighbors but they can be a police officer's best friend, Sean thought. After verifying Rusty's address, he asked Rusty to step back while he approached the car. Glenda sat calmly, looking at the mirror and chatting. Sean could hear her giggling occasionally. He rapped on the window and waited as Glenda rolled it down.

"Ma'am, please step out of the car."

Glenda calmly stepped out of the car and stood quietly. Her mood was much more sober than Sean had observed seconds earlier.

"Officer," Glenda began, "I'm terribly sorry. I'm very tired and I guess I just lost control of the car. Before I knew it I was up on the lawn."

"Ma'am. The man who lives here seems to think that you've been stalking him."

Glenda smiled to herself, happy that Rusty had noticed her. "Gosh no," she said, innocently. "I mean, we used to work together and I may have happened by once or twice to see if he was interested in seeing a movie or something but nothing more than that. Honest officer." Glenda tried her best to look sincere.

Sean nodded. The homely, beady-eyed woman seemed harmless enough. Maybe she had a thing for this Rusty fellow, but 'stalking' was probably a little too harsh a description. "Okay ma'am. I believe you. But I'm still going to need to write you up for reckless driving and I'd like to give you a test to see if you're under the influence."

Glenda nodded. The only influence she was under was called Rusty and the test wouldn't detect that. "Whatever, you want, officer. I don't want to be any trouble."

Sean wrote up the ticket and administered the breathalyzer. Glenda did not appear to be inebriated. Already, Sean was going over what he would say to appease Rusty. The fellow obviously thought Glenda was a threat. He'd have to handle it carefully, drawing on his years of expertise. Sean wrote up the ticket and handed it to Glenda. "Okay ma'am. Ease yourself slowly off the tree roots and back down to the street. You should be fine."

As Glenda started back to her car, Sean put away his notebook and took a step towards Rusty. An image flashed in his mind - Glenda taking the ticket. Sean turned back toward Glenda. "Uh ma'am?" he called out.

Glenda stopped and turned. "Yes officer? Did I forget something?"

Sean walked over to her. "Ma'am, can I see your hands please?"

Confused, Glenda held out her hands. Sean studied them. He hadn't imagined it. The address of the missing driver was written on her left hand. "Ma'am. I'm afraid you're going to have to come with me."

untitled

Oops! I might have overdone it with that last snore. Shane lay as still as possible. Five more minutes of snoring should do it. Shane opened one eye to check on the waif like woman next to him. Why does this kind of thing always happen to me? I try to be a good guy. I help when I can and then I find myself in these uncomfortable situations. If I make it through this night I'll load up in the morning and drop this woman off with Penny. Yeah, she's going to like this. She wasn't excited about the cat I dropped off on my last trip, I don't want to think about how she'll react to my dropping off a woman.The cat creeped me out. It had weird eyes that seemed to know more than they should. At any rate, it ran off before it could do too much damage.

Bats

Popping another no-doz Glenda proclaimed to her passenger that, “One more night without sleep is no big deal…I mean bats do it every day and they’re just like extra ugly rats”

The Jersey Shore was nothing compared to this. From Glenda’s rear seat Hugo reflected on his incredible luck. “She’s already a bit off and now she wants to forego sleep for days on end. Winning!”

At first Rusty thought the crash that woke him was part of his dream, only when he heard a wildly revving engine did he look out the window. “oh shoot it’s that green car” he anxiously exclaimed. However, as the fog of sleep cleared he realized that the menacing green car had taken out his mail box lefts tracks through his yard and was now hung up on the roots of his tree. The spinning wheels made it clear driver was still in the vehicle and must have been panicking that the surveillance had gone so wrong. Rusty threw the front door open and stormed toward the beached vehicle.

“Rat Girl?” might have slipped through Rusty’s lips as he peered through the windshield. He had always felt a little bad calling her that but I did fit and seeing what she just did to his lawn he didn’t really care.

“Rat Girl? I love it! Could this day get better?” Hugo’s question was answered as soon as he saw Glenda’s face. The face she was making was a very strange mix between embarrassed, terrified, and googley eyes.

“Rusty…you came for me?” Glenda whimpered. Her were eyes like two brown circles with big black dots in the middle as she rolled down her window and took in the sight of Rusty, clad only in boxer shorts, his hair glistening in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.

Shane's Room

As Shane headed to his room, he glanced back at the young woman he had just met. Brandi had turned and was staring across the parking lot. She didn't seem to be in any hurry to get to her room. Shane unlocked his door and a thought occurred to him. He turned toward Brandi and cleared his throat.

"You don't have a room here, do you?" he asked, quietly.

Brandi shook her head. "It hardly seems worth it. I mean, it'll be morning soon. I kind of need to conserve my cash right now."

Shane nodded. He'd been strapped for cash quite a few times in his life. He understood her logic. He sized up the girl. She was definitely a stranger and he had no reason to trust her. Still, he found himself wanting to help her. There was something pathetic and yet alluring about this woman.

"You're welcome to crash in my room, if you'd like. I'll warn you though, I haven't slept in a bed for days and I'm beat. I won't be much for company."

Shane knew that even with the "I'm so tired" caveat, his offer made him sound like a letch. He doubted Brandi would take him up on his offer. What girl in her right mind would?

Brandi smiled and stepped past him into the room. "Thanks" she said, "It's kind of cold out here."

Shane locked the door and sat down on the edge of the bed. Brandi slumped into a chair next to a little desk. For a few minutes, the two sat in silence, not making eye contact. Finally, Shane spoke.

"So, Brandi. What are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?"

Brandi looked up, eyes glistening. "Oh, as usual, my life is messed up." She didn't know why, but it was easy to talk to Shane. "I just broke up with my jerk boyfriend and he left me out here."

Shane shook his head. "That's no way to treat a lady" he said, sympathetically.

Brandi smiled and moved from the chair to the edge of the bed. "Like I said, he's a jerk."

Shane leaned back until he was lying flat on his back. The cheap motel bed felt like heaven to his achy back. He let out a long sigh and closed his eyes as he sensed Brandi cozying up next to him. "Brandi, what is it you do?"

"Do?"

"You know, for a living. What kind of job do you have?"

"Well, I used to work at a factory but now I guess you could say I'm unemployed."

"And that's why you're conserving cash, right?"

Brandi caressed Shane's hair. "Yep, but hopefully something will come along soon."

"You know" said Shane, yawning. "You should talk to my sister, Penelope, she works in town and might be able to hook you up with something."

Brandi leaned in close and kissed Shane's forehead. "Yeah, I should definitely talk to her."

Brandi leaned back to see if Shane had picked up on her not so subtle moves. Unsure, she leaned in for a mouth kiss to seal the deal. Just as she was about to make contact, Shane let out a snore that shook the windows. Brandi jumped back with a little "Eep!" and turned her back to Shane. Pulling a pillow over her head she tried to drown out the chainsaw next to her and catch a quick nap.

I hate being a cat

In the grand scheme of things I haven’t really been a cat all that long. Maybe two, three hundred years…it’s easy to lose track of time when you spend centuries lounging in the sunny spots of whatever room you happen to find yourself in. Before being a cat I was a Killer Whale, now that was a body! I was king of the sea, nobody ever touched my belly. Even before that I was a Panda bear or something. Honestly, I don’t even remember anymore. Anyway that’s all moot as I am currently a small cat, not even a big cat. Whatever.

Anyway, where was I? I had some catnip last night and everything’s still a blur. Oh yea, I mean I’m a cat right so I’m doing my regular cat thing, lounging around in the sun thinking about five billion years from now when the sun expands into a red giant and I have to start all over again, when out of nowhere some dirty human in some run down car decides I look lonely and need a home. Me! Need some human’s help? Please.

Yea so anyway she picks me up and you know I’m kind of hesitant but she does have a paper bag and a jacket in the back seat so I figure I’ll make myself comfortable and maybe watch some jersey shore on her T.V. Well JACKPOT! She’s straight up mentally ill, stalking some lowlife. I love it! I’ve got my reality T.V. right here, and best part is I can do a little manipulating. Time to get to work.

Late Night Detecting

Rusty rolled over and stared at the ceiling. Sleep was not coming easily tonight. He hated that he had let Keith rattle him so. Being a detective felt less fun than it had earlier in the day. He looked across the room at the envelope lying on the chair. After tossing it there when he'd gotten home, he'd done his best to avoid it. The temptation to peek inside was overwhelming but Rusty resisted. Once he delivered it to Drew he'd probably find out the contents anyway.

Rusty rolled out of bed and crept to the window. For the past few nights, he'd felt like someone was watching him. He even thought he noticed someone sitting in an older green Corolla looking toward his apartment. It was probably someone who lived in the building just getting home, he tried to assure himself. He began noticing the green car most nights, although it was usually parked in the shadows and he was unable to tell if it was occupied. Until his encounter with Keith, Rusty thought he was just being paranoid. He was relieved to find that the green car was nowhere in sight tonight.

Rusty sat back on the edge of his bed and tried hard to be a detective. Study the evidence, he told himself, let the facts speak to you. Rusty sat, staring blankly at the floor. The facts weren't saying much. Rusty began to wonder what exactly it was he was trying to detect. After all, he'd been trying to find Keith. He'd done that - or at least Keith had found him. So, was he done? Was that it? Case closed? No, Rusty realized. It was Brandi he was looking for.

Rusty's thoughts returned to the green car. It was out there every night except tonight - the night that Keith had confronted him. Maybe the driver of the green car was working for Keith. Maybe they had told Keith where to find him. Maybe their work was done now that Keith had delivered his message. Maybe that's why the car isn't out there tonight. Rusty grabbed a pen and his yellow notebook from his nightstand. He opened the notebook randomly, anxious to find a blank page. In big letters he wrote "Green car works for Keith".

Rusty sank back onto the bed, pleased with himself for having come up with a conclusion. He felt like a real detective and the feeling gave him courage. Knowing Keith, he would likely send the green car back to make sure Rusty minded his own business. If he did, Rusty would be ready.

Stop looking at me

Glenda watched as Brandi shrunk in her rear view mirror. Small enough that she could squash her between her fingers if she wanted to. Glenda usually considered herself to be nice person but this was too much. Brandi had thrown Rusty away and now he was Glenda’s as far as she was concerned. The cat in the back seat nodded in agreement.

“She’s the rat,” he said, “you would have helped her if she hadn’t been trying to hurt your Rusty”

Glenda wasn’t sure if this was the case, she’d felt bad for Brandi but not that bad. The cat in the backseat thought better of her though and that made her feel good. Glenda knew she had to act fast, it would take Brandi at least an hour to walk into town with her smoker lungs but that wasn’t much time.

“I have to get to Rusty and proclaim my love tonight before Brandi finds him” Glenda told the cat. “Rusty, you might not remember me but I’ve loved you for a long time” she practiced, putting on her peach lipstick as she drove, “I love the way your hands gently box up toilet seats in the plant”, “I love the way you pick your teeth so precisely after you eat your lunch in your car while I watch you”, “I love the way your mustache tickles my upper lip when we kiss.” Who was she kidding, thought the cat, she'd never kissed him except nightly in her dreams.

Glenda could tell the cat in the backseat thought her plan was a bad idea but she was ignoring him. “Stop looking at me like I’m crazy and start looking at me like I’m not crazy” she snapped. The cat didn't stop. “Well, I don’t care what you think” she said, “When Rusty and I have our happily ever after, you'll be the one alone crying in your kibble”

She just had to get to him before Brandi and he would love her. And unlike Brandi, Glenda knew exactly where he was.

Brandi Lands on her feet?

Shane once read or more likely saw on a television show that truckers often fall into a pseudo REM cycle sleep on their long hauls, but whatever rest he may have been getting ended with a wallop as for the second time in twelve hours one of his retreads came apart. The sign said five thirteen miles to the nearest town so Shane decided to limp there and find a shop.

The disheveled shop at the edge of town wore a “Closed until Monday” sign on the front gate…it was Friday going on Saturday. With a severe case of truck-cabin-fever Shane walked past the flickering neon V C NCY sign to the dirty motel office and picked up a key.

-So Brandi, you used to date Rusty?-

-I did for a long time…too long. He’s just too-he’s just not what I want anymore-

-Then why am I driving you there, if you don’t mind?-

-Well he’ll let me in. I mean he’s still wrapped around my finger. I’ll get what I need and then get back out-

This was just too much for Glenda. The car screeched to a halt and a very confused Brandi was left on the shoulder of the dark road. With Rusty’s place miles away and the motel money still in hand Brandi decided Rusty’s could wait until morning. So she started walking.

Shane grabbed all his gear from his truck; in his experience you can’t trust a small town mechanic, As he carried all his worldly possessions, all two duffel bags worth to his room he nearly bowled over a small exhausted looking woman.

-Excuse me ma’am I didn’t see you there.-

-Oh it’s alright I’m just getting my exercise before bed-

-Shane’s the name-

-Oh uh I’m Brandi, good to meet you-

Rat-Girl

Glenda eased her car up to the curb and watched as Keith's red Ford disappeared into the apartment's underground garage. She fumbled through her purse, grabbing a pen and feeling for a scrap of paper. Finally, she gave up the search and scrawled the apartment address on the palm of her hand. Shoving the pen back into her purse, she grimaced as she realized it was a permanent marker. Great, now she'd have to go around with Keith's address tattooed to her hand until it wore off. Glenda sat for a moment and stared idly out the window. She'd followed him on an impulse with the intent of finding where he lived. Now that she'd accomplished that goal, she wasn't sure what her next move should be.

Glenda was about to leave when the apartment garage door began opening. To her surprise, Keith's car emerged and sped past her. Instinctively, she pulled out and began following him again. The headlights from the oncoming traffic revealed silhouettes of two people in the car. Glenda clinched her jaw as she considered Keith's passenger - Brandi, no doubt.

It was more difficult keeping up with Keith than before. He was driving faster and more erratically. Glenda felt a flash of panic as she considered the possibility that Keith had noticed her following him. But he didn't seem to be trying to lose her. Besides, she thought, Keith seemed like the kind of guy who would just stop and confront anyone he thought was tailing him. Glenda took a deep breath and calmed herself.

Keith pulled onto the freeway and was soon near the city limits. Glenda reasoned it wasn't worth chasing him across the country and decided to take the next exit and turn around. As she approached the exit, she made her way over to the right lane. She realized Keith was doing the same thing. Panic gripped her again and she slowed down a little to open up more space between the cars. She watched Keith's car speed down the exit. There were few cars out at such a late hour and she would be pulling up right behind him at the stop sign. Glenda crept down the exit.

Keith sped off before Glenda reached him. She watched as he pulled into a dirty motel just off the highway. Glenda pulled over to the shoulder where she could get a better view of the motel parking lot. Keith was stopped in front of the motel office but he wasn't parked. Suddenly, Brandi stumbled out of the passenger's side. After a few moments Keith sped away. In the glaring light from the motel's neon vacancy sign Glenda could tell Brandi was upset, maybe even crying.

Glenda considered her next course of action. Keith had sped off quickly and she'd have trouble catching him. Going home was the smart thing to do. Home, where she could still catch a quick nap before the day started. But, she hadn't done many smart things that night and there was no reason to start now. Glenda slipped the car into drive and eased into the motel parking lot. She pulled next to Brandi and rolled down her window.

"You okay?"

Brandi had been staring at the soggy money in her hands and hadn't noticed the car. She jumped and let out a little squeak when Glenda spoke. Annoyed, Glenda snorted and stared at her.

"I said, are you okay?"

Brandi nodded. "Yeah," she sniffed. "I guess so. Do I know you? You seem familiar."

Glenda gritted her teeth. She and Brandi had worked at the same plant for a year. Not the same line, but still, the same shift. She took a deep breath, and pushed her glasses back up from the tip of her nose, and forced a smile.

"I'm Glenda. I work at the plant."

With her glasses back in place, Glenda's eyes appeared shrunken and beady, almost half their actual size. This was a face Brandi remembered. "Rat-Girl", that's how she and Rusty used to refer to her behind her back.

"Oh, Glenda. I remember you!" Brandi's face brightened."Um, do you think you could give me a ride? It's kind of embarrassing. I'm sort of stuck out here."

"Hop in. Did you have a fight with your boyfriend?"

Brandi slid into the seat and pulled the door shut. "Yeah. It's my own fault. I knew he was a jerk. I should have stayed with my old boyfriend. He was a real sweetie."

"Uh, huh." Glenda felt a burning deep in the pit of her stomach. She didn't want to have this conversation with Brandi. She was kicking herself for choosing this course instead of home.

"So," Brandi said, "I was wondering. Would you mind dropping me off at my old boyfriend's place? You might know him. Rusty? He works at the plant, too."

Glenda nodded as Brandi gave her the address she already knew. She nodded, but there was no way Brandi was going to see Rusty tonight.

Stop #1

Brandi sat brooding in Keith’s cold, large apartment. According to the text message he sent her hours ago, he was tied up in a “business meeting,” but Brandi was no fool. She had rifled through his suit coat pockets after one of his so-called meetings and found a matchbook with The Ruby’s logo on it. She wasn’t entirely sure if The Ruby was a bar or a strip club, but either way, she didn’t like it.

Brandi didn’t like a lot of things. When she lived with Rusty, she had no problem telling him exactly how she felt, and Rusty, the marshmallow that he was, folded every single time. Brandi liked having that kind of power, even if it was nagging Rusty about something she didn’t care about, such as which dresser drawer he should put his socks in.

But things were different with Keith, or “Hooveykins,” as she liked to think of him. Keith didn’t want to hear Brandi complain or nag about anything. For instance, upon first moving in with him, Brandi announced that she hated Keith’s apartment, that is was too stately, and filled with hard, angular chairs and tables, that she didn’t feel she could be comfortable and cozy there. Keith simply told her she was more than welcome to go back to Rusty. That seemed to be his response whenever she nagged him about anything.

So why did she stay with him? Brandi pondered this question now as she sat alone on the uncomfortably hard, modern couch in the den (Keith insisted it wasn’t a living room). Well, despite the fact she she wasn’t allowed to complain or nag, there was just something about her little Hooveykins. He had a bewitching smile, dressed only in expensive, beautifully tailored suits, and his muscles!....Brandi felt her anger start to melt away.

She must have dozed off, because she was suddenly startled awake by the sound of the front door slamming shut. Brandi yawned and rubbed the back of her neck, which was stiff from lying against the sharp back of the couch. Keith entered the den, and Brandi stood up to greet him.

“Hey, Hooveykins. How was your meeting? Did you get anything to eat? I could order some takeout if you like.” (Keith didn’t believe in using the kitchen for anything other than looking pristine and storing bottled sparkling water and protein shakes in the sleek, black fridge.)

“Pack your things, babe. We’re leaving. Tonight.”

“What? What do you mean, leaving? Like, for a trip? Or for good? And where are we going?” Any remaining sleepiness was now entirely gone from Brandi’s body.

“For good. And don’t you worry your pretty little head about where. Just start packing. We leave in an hour.”

As Brandi threw her clothes pell-mell into a suitcase, she started to get excited. A trip! Just what we need!, she thought. Maybe they would go somewhere romantic, somewhere with palm trees, and a beach. Maybe she could have a say in the type of place they would live. Someplace less...sharp and cold. More of a home. And maybe, just maybe, she could slip in a few complaints here and there, just to make her feel better. Maybe....

They had barely reached the outskirts of town when Keith took an exit and pulled up to a dingy hotel. Brandi looked around at him, puzzled.

“Did you, uh, forget something, Hooveykins? Are we turning around?”

Keith looked at her with his steely eyes, flashed her his special smile and said, “No, babe. This is stop number one. Get out.”

Now Brandi was even more confused than ever. Keith never stayed in crappy hotels like this; his tastes were much too expensive. And why would they spend the night at a hotel in their own town?

“We’re staying here? Tonight? But why?”

“No, babe. We’re not staying here; you are. I told you, this is stop number one. Now please get your bags and get out.”

“I don’t understand...”

Now his smile was more of a sneer, and he said, “What? Did you really think I was going to take you with me? Our time together has expired. Now are you going to get out, or am I going to have to assist you?”

Dumbfounded, Brandi got out of the car and pulled her suitcase and purse out of the back. Keith started to drive away, and Brandi, finding her voice, yelled out, “Wait! Aren’t you even going to pay for this? What about my money -- Rusty’s money?!”

The shiny car slowed down long enough for a few crumpled bills to be tossed out the passenger side window. Then it tore out of the parking lot and was gone.

Still shaken and not quite fully understanding what just happened, Brandi slowly walked over to pick up the money, which was already getting soggy from the midwinter mix of snow and mud covering the parking lot.

He was gone. Her Hooveykins was gone.

Resurrection

Penelope rarely left the outskirts of the city and even more sporadic were trips downtown but today was different.

The city passed dimly by the window of the train rebuilding and renewing itself as the tracks passed from the dank outskirts to the gleaming interior. As Penny rode she remembered her last interview, full of trendy “get to know ya” questions and contrived answers; “Describe yourself in terms of food”-“If I were to describe myself as a food I would say I am most like a deep dish pizza because…”. Last night with Carole, Penny made up her mind that there would be none of that today, “I will simply wow my future employers with my brutal honestly and unprecedented qualifications. Oh and then come home unemployed”.

The walk from the train station to the skyscraper was a mere three blocks but that was ample time for Penny to dig her ipod from her purse and begin the ritual blasting of and dancing to Europe’s “The Final Countdown”.

With her game-face thoroughly applied Penny burst through the doors into reception where she was met by a gaggle of younger women in similar borrowed blouses and interview suits. The blood rushed to her face and the wind from sails as she looked out on this sea of young talent. What did she have that they did not? How could she be successful? Desperation.

Stalker

Glenda shrunk down behind the steering wheel as Keith walked past. The parking lot was dark but she still worried he might spot her. She remembered "The Hoove" from work - an arrogant, obnoxious piece of crud intent on building himself up by tearing those around him down. She was glad when he stopped showing up for work. She was even gladder when she heard that he'd run off with Brandi, that little tramp that had attached herself to Rusty.

She wondered how Keith had gotten into Rusty's truck without her noticing. She must have nodded off at some point during the three hours she'd been waiting in the lot. Rusty didn't usually spend so much time in The Ruby. She'd been following him much more intensely since the diner incident, trying to summon the courage to approach him again. In that time she'd gotten to know his routine a little. He'll go home now, she thought, unless this meeting with Keith has altered his plans. She watched Keith getting into a tricked out red Ford Fiesta, his smugness apparent even in the dim light. She heard Rusty's truck and watched as he eased out of the lot. As he passed under the lone light pole she could see his worried face. Glenda felt a pang of anguish. Rusty was such a sweet soul. He was probably terrified to find that pig Keith in his truck. She felt the anguish turn to hatred.

Glenda took a deep breath and started her car. Clinching the steering wheel, she eased out onto the highway, keeping a little distance between herself and the red Fiesta.

Backseat Driver

Rusty stomped out of The Ruby at 1 AM. Maybe he'd stayed at The Ruby too late, he thought. He had wanted to clear his head. It hadn't worked. He had been putting in a lot of work on the case, but was getting nowhere.

The air outside was cold. A group of banished smokers stood, huddled together near the entrance of the building. As he pushed through them, his lungs filled with cold, musty, secondhand smoke. Disgusting, he thought. He was going to quit.

The parking lot was still pretty full of cars. Rusty put his head down and walked to the far perimeter of the lot. "You wouldn't have to park so far away if you had a smaller vehicle", he thought as he set eyes on the big blue truck. The door opened with a loud creak and Rusty climbed in to the cab. He blew his breath into his hands for a few seconds and fished his cigarettes from his shirt pocket. He lit his second to last cigarette and took a long drag.

Before he could exhale, a voice said, "Well, you found me."

Rusty turned around and saw Keith Hoover sitting in the backseat of his truck. He coughed out a cloud of smoke.

"What, exactly, do you want? Because I can't think of any business the two of us have. None. What. So. Ever. And I’m real busy lately, Russ." Hoove sat with his hands in the pockets of his long, grey, wool coat. His grey eyes fixed on Rusty.

Rusty sucked in some air and persuaded his body to stop coughing.

"Where's my wife? Where’s my money? That's all I want." Rusty hoped his voice wasn't shaking.

"Brandi? This about her?" Hoove took his hands out of his pockets and rubbed his face.

"You took her, and she had my money." Rusty felt an encouraging burst of adrenaline seep into his bloodstream.

Hoove leaned forward.

"How much money? All your money?"

"Not that much.....just my cigarette money, really...." Rusty felt his voice trailing off, so he added, "But that's not the point!"

Hoove smiled. Rusty couldn't help but notice how straight and white his teeth were. Rusty almost felt an urge to smile back.

"Russ, Brandi was an annoying nag." He reached forward and grabbed Rusty's cigarettes. Examining them, he said, "I would not 'take' her for anyone's cigarette money--let alone someone who smokes generics. Be glad that you're free now. Let it go."

Hoove lit Rusty's final cigarette and leaned back in his seat.

"But you both--"

"Don't look for me anymore. I'm leaving town. Tonight. Write this last part down in your little yellow notebook: If you don’t stop looking for me, somebody's gonna have to start looking for you."

Hoove patted at his coat pockets and finally pulled out two large padded envelopes. He handed one of them to Rusty. It said 'DREW' on the outside. Rusty slid a quick glance at the other envelope.

"Tell Drew it’s all I have for him." Hoove said. He looked out the window for a second, and then added, "Make sure he knows I'm gone. For good."

The door slammed shut and Rusty watched Hoove fade into the night. Then he grabbed the yellow notebook and recorded everything he could remember from their conversation. The last line he wrote said: 'envelope, Carole?'

Easy Money

Once again Rusty's mind went back to the scene at the diner. What was he thinking! In the light of day the idea of searching for Brandi and the Hoove had lost some of its appeal. How the heck do I get myself into these things? It was a question Rusty had often asked himself over the years. There was the time at the bar when he'd talked to the rodeo circuit rider, next thing he knew he was sitting on a bronco ready for the chute to open. It sounded like easy money when cowboy Buck had described it. “You only have to stay on for 7 seconds and you're in the money!” Some money! His tailbone still hurt on rainy days. How about the time the student lab tech had lured him into the experimental study.”They pay good money and all you have to do is show up once a week for a small injection.” Yeah that was great! Especially if you end up smelling like a lilac for the rest of your life. It could have been worse, he'd heard horror stories about some of the other studies!

Rusty opened his new spiral notebook. A good detective has to write things down. As he stared at the blank page he tried to think of things he might need to write down. HOOVE: Where is he?

Satisfied he closed the notebook and picked up the phone.

Glenda

Glenda sighed and settled into an empty booth. It had taken all her energy and nerve to enter the diner. This was to be the night. After weeks of shadowing Rusty around the plant, tonight she was going to tell him how she felt. Following him had been easy - his truck was loud and smelly, just the opposite of its driver. Rusty smelled nice, too nice, some would say. The guys at the plant thought it odd that Rusty chose floral scents instead of Old Spice or Brut but Glenda liked it. It reminded her of her grandma.

She wasn't even sure he knew she existed. They worked the same shift but different lines. But when she entered the diner he had looked at her expectantly. Perhaps, just perhaps he felt something too. Glenda smiled to herself at the possibility. If only things had worked out! She was so close. Their eyes had met, she was sure she did not imagine it. Just a few steps and they would have been sitting together. Just a few steps. She'd only taken one when that kid brushed past, almost knocking her over. It was enough to shake her nerve and freeze her approach.

Rusty and the boy hadn't spoken for long. Unsure of what to do, she'd stood there like a big idiot. She was too far away to hear the conversation but they didn't act like they knew each other well. She'd hoped that maybe Rusty would send the boy away. Instead, it was Rusty who got up abruptly and left, passing within inches of her without a word, imparting only the scent of fresh lilac.

God, she loved that man.

Good Vibrations

It was 8PM and the dinner rush was at it's height when Penelope felt her pocket vibrate.  She was too busy to answer and besides, Gary didn't like his "girls" using cell phones at work.  He called it classless.  As if a guy with a voice like Turman Capote and a face like Andre the giant who owned only two shirts was a good compass of classlessness.  Well, actually he was, but not in a good way.

Penelope finally got a break around 10:30 and checked her messages.  Holy crap!  She had a message from that job posting she applied to three weeks ago!  Her mind raced: what to wear, how early to arrive, did she have the correct footwear to exude confidence yet humility?  She definitely had the outfit pressed and ready.  Right after graduation from City College her mother had driven her to Macy's and bought her an official interview suit as a graduation gift.  Oh what hopes she'd had that day three years ago.  She expected to be driving a BMW by now.  Not hustling beet surprise in a greasy spoon on the wrong side of town.  The only thing missing was the perfect blouse.  She knew where to find it too - - - in her room mate's closet. The problem was she couldn't just ask to borrow it, it had to seem like Carol's idea and that wasn't easy.  If Carol sensed a favor coming she tended to become purposely obtuse and clueless.  God forbid Penelope get the job and be indebted to her for life!  She came up with a plan, she'd pick up a 6-pack on the way home and gently guide the conversation towards the interview and the outfit and hope that Carol offered up the blouse on her own after a few beers...better make it a 12-pack.

She spent the rest of the evening dreaming of the day she could tell Gary to shove it and walk out of this hell hole.  She'd never come back. Not even for coffee.

The detective

As Rusty walked to his truck he thought over the events of the last few hours. What have I gotten myself into? The truth was Rusty wasn't that eager to find his wife.Sure he lost all his money but in some ways it had been worth it. If he had to be honest, it really wasn't that much money. Just what was left after the bills were paid for the month. Cigarette and beer money. The house was quiet without Brandi around. No “Rusty do this” or “why did you do that.” Brandi really knew how to bust his chops. However he wouldn't mind finding the “ hoove” as everyone at the factory called Keith. He was constantly sucking up to people. It was ridiculous. What some people wouldn't do! He wouldn't mind teaching him a thing or two! As Rusty climbed into his truck he thought again about Drew. What an intense kid! It would be kind of fun to be a detective. He had always thought of himself as having an inquisitive mind. If he hadn't landed the factory job he most likely would have been an investigator or something of the sort. As Rusty started his truck, for the first time in a long time he was looking forward to the week ahead.

ENEMY OF MY ENEMY

The brass bell above the door rang as Drew entered the diner. He had never met Rusty, but among the old men in their John Deere hats he wore his anemic build and greasy hair like a name tag. The two men, men being used loosely as Drew looked decidedly childish with his pallid frame and two sizes too big jacket, met eyes and Drew made his way to the table stumbling over his words.

“I uh, I didn’t think you’d come”

“Who the heck are you? What do you want kid?”

“I’m uh Drew, Drew Davies”

“And?”

“And you know my dad, you work with him, Keith Hoover”

“Look kid, I knew your dad. I haven’t seen him in months and if I do its’ gonna be ugly. He took my wife and all my money and ran off to who knows where”

Drew’s heart sank for a moment as he saw his hopes of finding his father vanish. Then he realized he just met someone who had as much a stake in finding his father as he did.

“Well don’t you want to find him?”

“Yea kid I do but I don’t even know where to start?”

“Well what if we work together, I mean I found you right?”

“Don’t you have school, or something?”

“Don’t worry about me old man, yes or know?”

“What’s your plan kid? Do you even know what you’ll do if you find him?”

“I don’t know I uh, I just want to meet him”

This was a lie; Drew knew exactly what he wanted to do when he met his father. After fifteen years trying to make ends meet with his heartbroken mother there was no doubt in Drew’s mind as to what he would do.

“Well I could use money, and I’d love to see the look on my wife’s face when I find them, alright deal”

The new partners shook hands and decided to meet at the diner again in a week.

Drew

The aluminum screen door slammed shut as Drew walked into the double wide. Dropping his backpack on the table he looked around. It was small, empty and filthy, as always. His Mom hadn’t even bothered to pick up before heading out to work her double. There were dishes in the tiny sink and clothes strewn across most of the surfaces. If he was being honest with himself, his Mom had never really bothered to pick up.

He didn’t blame her though. His story was a typical one. Man runs off on pregnant girlfriend. Leaves single mother alone and penniless never to be heard from again. You know the story. Drew surely did. He knew it every single morning when he woke up and there was no water for a shower, or no food for breakfast. Knew it every time he got made fun of for his ill fitting out of style clothes. Knew it every time he rode his rusty bike home from school to an empty house. Drew had fifteen years of knowledge on deadbeat Dads.

Although the curtains were open, the fading light of the winter evening was already making it difficult to see. The clock on the microwave glowed reminding Drew it was already 5:00. After tidying up a bit, Drew headed down the short hall to his closet of a bedroom. He slumped onto his bed and lay there. The minutes ticked by. He would have to leave soon if he wanted to make it on time. Just thinking about what he was about to do was making him nervous. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to go through with it. A big part of him wanted to stay home, listen to some music, maybe beg Hank next door for a beer or two. But another part of him, a bigger constantly nagging part, had questions that needed answers.

Taking a deep breath, Drew got up grabbed his jacket and slammed the door again on his way out. He didn’t bother to lock it, there was no one around to steal anything, and nothing to steal anyway. The chilly winter wind whipped his hair around his face as he pedaled down the road.

Arrested Development

Gary hadn’t always wanted to own a diner. In fact he still didn’t, when Gary was growing up his dream was to light out and escape the din of the city for something more secluded. However; as the years passed him by his dream of sequestering himself in an old farm house faded forcing him to move through a procession of mediocre jobs. He’d been a gas station attendant until self service took over, he’s tested hair re-growth medicine only to lose his remaining hair, and he’d even invented a machine to put insulation on copper wires just in time to find out that it already existed. Life had been hard on Gary and the haggard lines on his face made no attempt at hiding that.

Gary became the proprietor of Gary’s Din Din entirely by an ugly twist of fate. One evening while walking to the local bakery to steal the unsold cupcakes from the dumpster out back, Gary was struck by a drunken man on a moped. In the ensuing legal battle Gary was awarded eight thousand dollars, with which he promptly purchased a new 1992 Jeep Comanche.

Feeling lucky with his new truck Gary decided to do a little gambling at his favorite miniature horse race track. Things were going good and Gary was upping the ante right until the point his favorite Shetland took a nasty spill. When it came time to pay out Gary discovered he had played the odds a bit recklessly and would not be able to pay his debt. Keith, Gary’s bookie, was livid but being the astute businessman he quickly drew up a couple plans for collecting.

1. Keith breaks Gary’s arm gives him one week etc…

2. Gary takes over the failing, debt riddled diner that Keith had taken as collateral in a previous arrangement.

With options like those Gary made quickly made the decision that would effectively kill his former hopes, dreams, and ambitions.

The earings matched the blouse. That was all Penelope could ask for before she was out the door. Though if she wore her hair down, she skipped the earings, but her bracelets had to match her shoes. It wasn’t easy being a waitress.

“For Gad’s sakes, Carole, will you turn that down?” Penelope whisked to her roommate while crossing the living room. There was no reason to be watching Wheel of Fortune on extra loud. For crying out loud, all the words you needed were written right there on that gigantic screen.

“Bye Penny, have fun at work,” Carole replied. Her voice was airy and good-natured, and she smiled like she meant it.

Penelope hated being called Penny. She slammed the door shut behind her.

Gary’s Din-Din was just around the corner from Penelope’s apartment, but she climbed into her rusty Isuzu Trooper and drove anyway. She didn’t like the thought of being heckled by hoodlums and youths while walking. Gary’s Din-Din had gotten it’s namesake in a roundabout fashion. While the owner Gary wanted the name ‘Gary’s Diner,’ that name in town had already been taken. So instead, he had settled on ‘Gary’s Dine-in.’ Unfortunately, the workers hired to make his sign had made a mistake while fastening the letters and had set the hyphen one letter early before realizing their mistake. And so, the small restaurant became Gary’s Din-Din. People repeatedly alerted the workers on how ridiculous they thought the name sounded But at least Gary had gotten a free sign out of the frustrating ordeal.

“Hi there, Penny.” Gary was standing by the sink with his hands on his hips, smiling at Penelope like he had all the time in the world.

“Gary,” Penelope responded. She threw her purse on the back counter and snatched an apron from the clean laundry bin. Glancing through the order-up window, she could see several people at the bar and a few in booths, but didn’t hear anybody talking. They all sat glumly, eating and drinking their regulars, wearing their regular garb, sitting with their regular buddies. There was only one face she did not recognize, and he looked apprehensive as hell. Penelope grabbed a menu and headed his way.

“Welcome to Gary’s Din-Din. My name is Penelope, I’ll be your server. Can I grab a drink for ya to start out?” The man looked up at her from his long gaze out the window.

“Oh, I’ll just have a coffee.”

She placed the menu on the table and headed back to the kitchen. Gary was busying himself over a large pot on the stove. Its insides spewed with cabbage and maroon mush. “Special of the day, Gary’s Beet Surprise,” he said, catching her staring at the mass as she poured coffee.

“It looks disgusting.”

Penelope walked back to the table and set the coffee down. “So what will it be? Special of the day is Gary’s Beet Surprise.”

“Oh, uh, just the coffee, actually.” The man inched the menu timidly back across the table towards her, though it still lay where she had set it. She smiled sweetly at him.

He smiled back “Thanks Penny.”

Penelope walked briskly back to the kitchen, drawing her cigarettes from her purse before reaching for the back door. “I’m taking a break.” She was out the door before Gary could muster out a solemn “Already?”

The Note

Rusty gazed out the window of the diner as another car sped past. His coffee had grown lukewarm, a result of nursing it over the past half hour. He finally looked away from the window and noticed the bill on the table. He didn't recall the waitress stopping by, but maybe she had. With a grimace, he downed the last of the coffee and set the mug down.

Reaching into his pocket for some change, his fingers felt the crumpled piece of paper that had brought him here. Rusty pulled it out and studied it. He'd found the note stuck under the wiper of his truck when he left for work three days ago. It was terse, almost cryptic - just his name, the name and address of the diner, today's date, the time 6PM and a message: "Be there, we need to talk. D."

Rusty had almost ignored the note. He knew a few people whose names began with D, but none were the type who would leave such a note. He resolved to ignore the note. Still, he couldn't stop thinking about it and somehow found himself driving to the diner. He'd arrived at 5:45, ordered coffee and waited. Penelope, his waitress, seemed intent to ensure that he ate something and Rusty finally ordered some food just to get her to leave him alone. He went with the special, Gary's Beet Surprise, an unremarkable dish suffering from an identity complex - it didn't know if it was a sandwich or a salad. In the end, it managed to encompass the worst qualities of each. He picked at his food, much to Penelope's distress. After repeatedly assuring her that the food was fine he finally just began ignoring her and staring out the window. Eventually, she left him alone.

Rusty looked around the diner again. He felt a little foolish and wondered if maybe one of his buddies had left the note as a prank. He was just sliding out of the booth when he heard the jingle of the diner door opening. A woman entered and immediately made eye contact with him. Rusty settled back into the booth and waited.