Fire Book One

By the time Lt. Brown made it to the scene, the sun was just appearing over the horizon; he thought it was a beautiful sunrise.  He looked on with trepidation, as the fire engines continued to pump water on the few smoldering remains of what was once a nice farmhouse.

He immediately found the man in the white fire helmet.  "Chief Henderson, has anything helpful been found?"

"Geeze, you sure arrived in a hurry, John." the chief replied.

"Two of the residents were victims of fires that I am already investigating."

"Well, you can add this one to the list.  There is a box, around back, with bottles of what smells to me like gasoline, with rags stuffed in the tops.  Also, the front door had a block on it, so that it couldn't be opened.  If there are any remains in that mess, it will be first degree murder." the Chief said.  "Trouble is, though, that fire was incredibly hot; any bodies left in there may well be completely cremated and not leave any trace."

"Chief, there were two adults, a sixteen year old boy and a pair of identical twin nine year old boys, and their two dogs living there." Lt. Brown said.

"I'm sorry, sir, if they were home..."

"Yeah, I know."

Lt. Brown took out his cell and called FBI Special Agent Dukman, As much as he hated it, the Feds did have jurisdiction.  Four rings, then his voice mail.  Lt. John Brown left a short message. Next, he called Nick, who he obviously woke up.  The news Lt. Brown gave him brought him to wakefulness, and started him moving in a hurry, he said he would be there in twenty minutes.

Lt. Brown began his search of the property.  He found the crate of homemade fire bombs, the Chief had told him about.  He set down his evidence kit and put on a pair of vinyl gloves.  He carefully removed one of the bottles and gingerly pulled the rag from the top.  He smelled the contents.  Just as he suspected; it was high grade aviation fuel, used for jets.  Well, there was a very limited list of people around here with jets.  He poured a sample into an evidence vial and carefully sealed it.  Lab tests would be done, to match it to the accelerant used in the other two fires.  Next, he dusted the bottle for prints and got two very nice ones. 

He was just finishing the fourth and final bottle, when Nick pulled up.  "You look like hell." John said to Nick.

"Thanks John. Is there any news?" Nick asked.

"Well, he made some mistakes, this time.  He left these," he pointed to the crate of bottles, "and they were covered with really nice prints.  Come on you can help me search."

The two investigators started walking back around the house.  Nick stopped and stared into what had been the garage.  Although it was attached to the house, it had once been only a car port, and had later been walled in, to make it a garage.  Just barely discernible, were the chassis of two vehicles in what was now a molten shell of the garage, under the twisted and melted corrugated steel, used for the roof of it.  Nick began to cry, "I had hoped they had already left.  But they had a Buick and a van...two...and...Oh God, there are two here.  Oh, God, Martha! I can't believe it."

Lt. Brown hugged the sobbing Nick.  "I wish I had words..."

When he recovered somewhat, they continued on.  Near the driveway in a soft patch of dirt was a very nice clear tire track.  "Lt., has any of the fire equipment been over here?"

"No, they all pulled up over there to be closer to the hydrant."

Let me go get my plaster kit, I think the murdering bastard left us a track I can use." 

As Nick worked on the cast, he said. "This is a large vehicle, with brand new tires, I'll have to check the tread, but it looks like the tread on new Hummers.  Once the plaster was poured, Nick stood and scanned the area.  "I don't believe it, blood; we need to get that, too."

 Several samples were taken and they backtracked the blood trail.  Lt. Brown inspected the ground, "Well, well, well.  Mr. Regnad, bring some bags over here, please.  We have some charred flesh here.  I'd say our man had a bad morning."  He bagged some ash.  "I'd say we are looking for a man, judging from these shoe prints, (one of which Nick was making a cast of), with a badly burned right hand, (if he was facing the house when he threw the bottle,) that drives a large vehicle; most likely a Hummer, and has access to jet aircraft."

"There are only two people that I can think of that come close to fitting that description, and I can't imagine one of those men doing something to hurt kids, the other one, though, I would have suspected anyway." Nick said.

Lt. Brown nodded, "And your two suspects would be?"

"Well, the first one isn't really a suspect.  He does have a small airfield, on his property, but I don't know about a jet, and he has enough money to buy a Hummer for every day of the year, although I don't think he has one.  And, that would be Tom Richards."  Nick shook his head, hating to drag Tom into this mess.

"Now, the other one, I have more reason to suspect; he used to run a fertility clinic.  I've traced the twins to that clinic.  Both boys have identified him as one of the men who abused them.  The district attorney is building a very good case against him, and it would be to his advantage to have the boys unable to testify about him. That gives us a motive.  He is the only connection I know of between the two fires.  You heard Travis's statement about him ordering the fire at Mitch's house.  And I have been getting e-mails with evidence against him, and so far they have been checking out one hundred percent." Nick was definitely getting worked up.

"Easy, Nick," Lt. Brown said.  "He had rock solid alibis for the first two fires.  Helga Sooker has vouched for him at the times of both fires.  I personally think the woman is using her statements to blackmail him.  She had those huge implants done to please him.  Too bad she didn't know that a flat chest, like a ten-year-old boy has, was more to his liking.  Those humongous bazooms should be registered as lethal weapons."

Nick had to smile, "Well, at least those 'fission chip' cookies of hers should be."  Both men had a short laugh.  The humor helped get Nick back on track.

"Well, I agree that Dr. Dummesel is our number one suspect. Number one with a bullet, so to speak, but there is one other person, that I think we need to look at pretty closely.  He's been driving that silver Hummer, with all the gadgets.  He has the police package in that damned thing; radio, scanner, CB, Satellite Phone, GPS, the whole works.  I'm talking about our very own FBI investigator, Special Agent Dukman."

"Damn, I can't believe I didn't think of him. Where is my brain? The jerk fits the description, too."  Nick was angry with himself, for not thinking of him.  "I guess I didn't want to think one of the 'good guys' might be bad.  That, and the fact that I hate the SOB."

The two men continued the trip around the house.  Fire fighters were still hosing down the ruins and trying to get all the hot-spots put out.  It would still be hours before the ruins would cool enough so that they could be searched.

"Nick, you knew these folks better than I did, is there anyone who we need to notify?" Lt. Brown asked.

"Yeah, Martha's daughter, and Linda Thompson.  They were supposed to be going to the daughter's today.  Wouldn't get in till late tonight.  I'd like to wait for a while, to be sure on that call."

"Chicken! Though can't say I blame you.  Have you got Linda's number?"

Yeah, let me give her a ring.  Two rings, then voice mail, "Linda, this is Nick Regnad, please call me as soon as you get this. It's very important."

Taking a deep breath, nick dialed the daughter's number, "Waiting isn't fair for them."  Busy signal.

Lt. Brown said as they got back to where the case of fire bombs was, "Well, Nick, that's about all we can do here, right now; let's go check out our suspects."

"What about the police?" Nick asked.

"Hell; let them check out their own suspects. I don't seriously think we need them at Haven, do you?" John replied.

"No way.  Okay, let's go and get this over with.  Oh yeah, I almost forgot. You need to know that Tom Richards is one of my clients."

"Noted.  I haven't met the man, but he has quite a reputation for protecting his boys." John commented.

"Oh yeah, seeing him in action is quite something, especially when he goes fully into 'PROTECT THE KID' mode.  I'm currently trying to track a girl's family for him, but that's another story." Nick said.

They got into Lt. Brown's 'fire engine red' SUV and drove the twelve miles to Haven Manor.  As they got out of the SUV, Nick looked at his watch, ten forty five.  They rang the doorbell, and a man that Nick recognized as Jim Gordan, answered, Tom Richards personal secretary.

"Hi Jim.  This is Lt. John Brown; (He has a nice body) he's from the fire department, Arson Investigation unit." Nick introduced the Lt.

"Nice to meet you, sir.  Please come in," Jim led them to the library, "Please make yourselves comfortable, gentlemen, and Mr. Richards will be with you shortly.  Come along children, no eavesdropping, out, Out, OUT." Four boys and a girl materialized from behind the shelves, one boy had completely white hair and eyebrows, and his skin was very pale, but he had the bluest, most beautiful eyes that Lt. Brown had ever seen.  Then there was a boy that was walking a little funny, and the girl seemed to be helping him along.  As they left, Lt Brown asked, "What's wrong with the boy?"

"Oh, nothing another week or so won't cure.  He hurt himself last Saturday on his birthday." Jim informed them, then he left.

"Wow, last Saturday was Travis's birthday too," Nick remarked, sadly, taking a deep breath, and fighting to keep his composure.

It wasn't long before two men entered the room; one went right up to Nick and shook his hand.  "Good morning, Nick.  I take it this isn't about Patty."

"I wish it were.  This is Lt. John Brown, he's an arson investigator." Nick said.

The other man suddenly stepped forward, "Is this about Mitch and Travis?  Those two little guys are so very special."

Lt. Brown sighed, "Were.  I'm sorry, to have to tell you, but there was a fire at their house, and no one could have gotten out."

Nick reached out to support the other man, "Dr. Turnman, here, sit down."

"Oh, my God, this is quite a shock." Tom said.  "Leo is the boys' doctor and he takes his patients very seriously."

"I see that." Lt. Brown said. "We were wondering if you, by chance, have any jet fuel at your little air strip?"

Tom answered honestly, "I'm terribly sorry, but, I really don't know."  He went over to a computer and typed in the request.  The computer promptly listed the fuel type and amount, and when last replenished.  There didn't appear to be any jet fuel there.  "Sorry, Lt. We don't have any at this time, but if you need it, I can have some delivered in a matter of hours."

"That's okay, don't bother.  Does anyone here have a Hummer?"

Tom looked puzzled for a few seconds, until he remembered the vehicle by that name. "Not that I know of.  That's the big square SUV they drive on CSI Miami, right?"

"Yep, that's it."  Nick said, just as his cell phone rang.

It was Linda.  "Hi Linda, where are you.  Really? I'm there now.  I need to talk to you as soon as you can get here."

Tom asked, "Linda Thompson?"

"Yes, she and Lee Harris are good friends, ah, damn, were." Nick said.

Dr. Leo Turnman, having recovered from the shock, asked, "Are you sure?  Is there any chance?"

Lt. Brown said, "I'm sorry, Doctor, but the doors were barred so no one could get out.  We haven't been able to search the site yet, too hot.  I doubt we'll find much in the way of remains.  It was an extremely hot blaze and fire units didn't arrive until things were pretty well over."

"Somehow, I just can't believe those little guys are gone.  They fought so hard through their burns from before.  Couldn't they have gone out a window?"

"There was no sign of any survivors.  Mr. Regnad looked hard." Lt. Brown said.

They heard the door open and close, and then Linda entered the room.  She looked around at who was there, "Nick, what's happened?"

Nick approached her, "Linda, its bad news."

"Nick, you're scaring me."

"There was a fire at Lee's..."

"After they left?" she asked, hopefully.

"There were two vehicles in the garage." Nick told her.

"No, it can't be.  I would know if anything had happened to the lughead.  Hell, I knew when he was hit by the damned drunk driver in Alabama."  She took out her cell phone, and then her face fell, "Straight to voice-mail."

Nick took out his satellite phone and dialed a number, "It's ringing!  Two, three, four, damn, voice-mail.  I gave Martha one of my satellite phones, since she didn't have a cell phone."

Lt. Brown had perked up, "Wouldn't it have gone straight to voice-mail if it had been destroyed?"

Nick shook his head, "I don't know.  It might have been searching for it.  I just don't know."

Lt. Brown took out his cell phone and tried Dukman again, straight to voice-mail.  "That, jerkwad Dukman, must have turned his phone off.  Great, the grandstanding Bozo misses his bus when 'his' case goes sky high."

Tom checked his watch, "How about you two joining us for lunch; Linda please stay with us until we know more.  Patty's report can wait if you don't feel up to it."

"Thank you Tom.  I'll see after lunch.  I still can't believe this.  I'm just so sure that I would know if something happened to Lee, I just know I would."

Tom told the boys what was going on at lunch.  Neal and another boy had tears in their eyes.  The younger boy finally had to leave, and Neal followed him.  Tom stopped the two others from following.  "We need to give them some time," he told the boys.  Tom turned to the adults, "Brian knew one of the twins from Juvy, and just found out he was alive, at scouts the other night; now this.  Give Neal some time with him."

The rest of the meal was a pretty grim affair.  After finishing up the meal, Nick and Lt. Brown headed back to Lee's.  Nick was given some special boots and gloves, and was warned that some things were still quite hot.  They began the search for evidence and remains.  After five hours, they really didn't have a lot to show for their labor; there was a titanium lower leg prosthesis, a few bone fragments from near the foyer and the remains of a handgun.  It was evident the shells had gone off, due to the intense heat, and it was pretty mangled.  There were some interesting looking metal blobs and that was about it.  Lt. Brown was sending all this to the FBI crime lab in Quantico, Virginia and he hoped they could make some sense of it all.  They decided that they had done all they could for now, since it was starting to get dark. 

They grabbed some fast food and then both men went home and took hot showers to get the soot off.  Nick felt wide awake when he got finished, and was restless as all get out.  He was about to go get some exercise when there was a knock on his door.  "Lt. Brown?  You must be as restless as I am."

"Yep.  Want to go roust our number one suspect?" John asked.

"I love a man with a plan." Nick grinned.  He was really looking forward to this.

"Me too, another voice chimed in."  Sheriff Eric Henry was there.  I have search warrants and arrest warrants if they are needed.  Like the Scouts say, 'Be Prepared.'"

Nick rode with Lt. Brown, and they followed Sheriff Henry.  The two vehicles drove past Haven on their way to Dr. Wirklih Scheisse Dummesel's vast country estate.

* * Meanwhile inside Dummesel' estate * *

"Damn it woman!  Careful, Careful.  Be sure the fingers are each wrapped separately.  God Damn it! Gently, bitch!"

Helga had just about had it with the ass hole. She began to think about breaking his damned fingers off. They were burned really badly. He wasn't about to perform any surgery any time soon, not that he was ever very good at it.  To think she had been impressed by his money and power.  He wasn't even good in bed.  He only had five pitiful inches and didn't really know how to use it.  He had gone off early this morning and had come home with his hand severely burned, and of course he had refused to go to the hospital. Well, it served him right; he probably had tried to torture someone by burning them, and what ever he had done must have backfired on him.  She decided that as soon as she could, she was taking her cookies and leaving.  There had to be somebody who would appreciate her, maybe that cute sexy FBI agent...

Jackson, the butler, came into the room, "Sir, there are three gentlemen here to see you."

"Shit, Damn it; of all the nights for them to come."  Helga was finished bandaging his hand. She smiled as she slipped the tube of Ben-Gay she had applied to his hand, back in the drawer. Thank God he hadn't seen what she had applied to the burn, or he would have beaten her senseless, or worse. 'I'm afraid that is going to hurt, Doctor' she thought, and she giggled softly.  Dr. Dummesel pulled his large mass of blubber out of the chair he had been sitting in.  He pulled a clean shirt on and had Helga button it up since he couldn't, with only his left hand..  Without even so much as a single word of thanks, he left the room to meet with his 'guests.'  Needless to say he was surprised to see three strangers waiting there in his 'sitting' room {or sitting in his waiting room?} and not the 'mob' bosses from Chicago that he had thought were there.  And, to make matters worse, two of them were in uniforms with badges.

Eric stepped forward, "Hello, Doctor.  What happened to your hand?"

The Doctor replied, "Not that it is any of your shtupid damned business, but I burned it, lighting the gas grill."

Lt. Brown said, "What a relief.  We are looking for someone with a burned right hand that drives a Hummer, and has a connection to two twin boys in the next county."

"I'm sure I can't help you." the Doctor said.

Nick moved close to the other side of the Doctor, in effect surrounding him, "I'm sure you could, actually, ifyou wanted to.  Let me refresh your memory, somewhat, you were raping one of them, and preparing to rape the other, until you had his family killed.  Too bad for you, that your henchmen were a little slow.  Your call actually got the fire department there just as the house erupted in flame.  Too bad your two lackeys got away, but you took care of that little detail yourself.  But the boys managed to escape both fires, I'm afraid."

The Doctor laughed, "Quite a story, but no evidence, and no one to testify."

"Oh, but there is, you see." Lt Brown said. 

"No way, I waited until I was sure that no one got out." too late, he realized just what he had said.

Sheriff Henry took out a set of cuffs, " Wirklih Scheisse Dummesel, I hope  I pronounced that right, my German is a bit rusty; you are under arrest, on the charge of First Degree Murder, ten counts. You have the right to remain silent....."  He pulled the doctor's arms behind his back and slapped on the handcuffs, none to gently, completely ignoring the fact that the man had a wickedly burned right hand.  The Doctor was screaming obscenities, in rage and pain.  They, none too gently, led him out of the house.  As Eric was putting him into his Police Car, a Lincoln Town Car with Helga at the wheel and a large tin of cookies tossed onto the passenger seat, sped by them, just barely missing the Doctor.

After getting the, still handcuffed behind his back, overweight Doctor wedged into the backseat, the Sheriff returned to the house, whistling happily.  Jackson was standing there grinning, "Okay, boss, I guess I'm not going to be required to be undercover any more."

"Actually, if you don't mind too much, I'd like you to stay here and keep an eye on things, for just a bit longer, until I can get time to back here and search this place thoroughly. I can't help but believe that there is more to that scumbag, than we already know."

"No problem, sir. Should I dismiss the staff?" Jackson asked.

"Not just yet. I believe it might prove useful to have them remain, available, for the present. I would suggest that you give them the rest of the weekend off, why don't you?  I'll want to talk to them on Monday.  Draw up a nice severance pay check for them, say, three month's wages. That should be fair, considering the crap they had to endure from that overstuffed dumb ass. It was so nice of the Doctor to have your name added onto his bank account." The Sheriff smirked.  "How long have you been working here for him?"

"I think it has been about six months now. I can't imagine why that idiot trusted me so completely. Hell, I wouldn't even rub his back. I think he was turned on by my British accent, even when I told him to sod awff."

"Yeah, that was It, probably, your flawless British Accent." Lt. Brown chuckled.

"He obviously never read any mysteries, did he, since if he had, he would know that almost all the time, 'The Butler did it'." Everyone Laughed.

Lt. Brown dropped Nick off at his home.   Nick went in and sighed deeply, knowing that they had the man who set the fire was rather satisfying, but his Martha was still gone.  He went over and sat at his computer.  As soon as it was booted up the screen was filled with the 'you've got mail' message he always got, when he received one of his mysterious messages.  Knowing by now that it did no good to ignore the mail, he clicked on the knight in the gazebo.

Dear Nick,
Dukman is toast.  Tell Lt. Brown.
Your friend.

This message put Nick into a state of shock.  Finally he said, aloud, "How?"

'He broke into the house to download whatever he could from the hard drive.  He was not exactly successful, I'm afraid.' the computer replied, sounding quite smug.

Nick jumped back, knocking over his chair.  He was losing it. He had to be going crazy. His computer couldn't have just talked to him.  Way too much excitement and emotional shocks for one day.  He must be way overstressed.  He clicked off the computer.  When it wouldn't shut down, he unplugged it.  He went to his kitchen, and poured himself a stiff drink, ate the last pickle in the jar, then went to the phone and called Linda's cell.

She answered on the first ring.  "Yes, Nick?"

"Hi Linda.  We just made an arrest, that Dr. Dummesel.  He used to run a fertility clinic, that's where the twins were conceived.  Why he wanted to destroy them, I haven't figured out yet, but he did it." Nick told her.

"Are you alright, Nick?"

"No, not by a long shot, I'm not.  It's going to take time."

"I know, I don't feel like it's real.  I don't feel like he's gone.  It's like the time he hid in the bomb shelter when we were kids, playing hide and seek.  I felt him but I couldn't find him."

"Whoa, Linda, back up.  Bomb Shelter?  Where?"

"Oh, Nick!  Why didn't I think of that before? There is an old bomb shelter under the house that you access from the cellar.  I'll meet you there." the connection went dead.

Nick quickly changed clothes and grabbed some leather gloves and a shovel and was out his door in no time.  He was mad at himself for not thinking of a shelter, since his best friend, Hal, had one when they were growing up, in Alaska, and used to play in it all the time.  On the way back to the site, he called Lt. Brown and filled him in on Linda's revelation.

He arrived, and was soon searching for some sign of an entrance, in the still warm charred remains of Lee's house.  He hadn't been there long, when Linda pulled up.  Not far behind her, came a van, and Tom Richards, Dr. Leo Turnman and the boys pilled out.  They had brought the propane lanterns they used when camping, and lots of tools, for digging.

Nick hugged Linda, "Come on, where do we dig?"

Linda stood for a minute, and thought.  "It's been so long. I'm not sure I can remember anymore. You had to go into the basement, then, ah, back to the far end of the basement under the bedrooms.  There was a steel door that opened into the tunnel that went to the shelter."  There was no sign of the door. 

"Where along the wall?" Nick asked in an anxious voice.

"Nick, I'm sorry, I just can't put my finger on it yet; let me think.  It has been so long.  I remember it being in the corner of a room, to the right.  So either over there or about in the center.  The boys set up the lanterns and divided into two crews and started digging.

Lt. Brown arrived and checked out what they were doing.  Finally he drew Nick aside.  There had to be some ventilation, we need to find it."

"Of course, they would need fresh air." Nick said, stating the obvious.

Taking the lead from where Linda told them to dig, the two men began searching.  They were slowly walking in the woods, and they almost missed it.  In the dark, it looked just like a stump.  Nick yelled into it, no response..  He shined his flashlight in and he could see that it was clogged with debris.

"John, it's blocked.  We need to get it cleared.  How long could they last in there without air?"

"Depends on just how big the shelter is."  The two men worked to get the top off the vent, and then tried to get the debris out.  When the vent was cleared, some really foul air escaped.  Lt. Brown pulled out his cell phone and called in a request for an air pump, and any nonessential men who happened to be on duty.

It wasn't very long until red flashing lights were approaching.  Nick stayed there, and Lt. Brown went to show the men where to bring the pump.  They got the pump working, rather quickly, putting clean breathable air into the shelter.  Nick, and three other men, went to give the boys a break.  They hadn't found the door yet.  Nick decided to try the other corner.  He hadn't dug very far when the top of the door was uncovered.  Now there was a frenzy as the rubble was moved.  The men went back to the truck and returned gingerly juggling a chainsaw, and 'The Jaws Of Life.'  It seemed to Nick that it took almost forever to get the damned door cleared.  Once it was, he pulled, with every ounce of strength he had, and nothing happened, amazingly, he pulled harder, it still didn't budge. 

The other men joined in.  The seal on the air tight door had evidently melted making it impossible to open.  'The Jaws Of Life' strained and managed to pull the handle off the door.

"Well that was useful." Nick said, as he held the handle for a bit, before putting it down.

That was the last straw for Nick, and he broke down, saying Martha's name over and over.  One of the firemen got a fire ax and began breaking away the concrete block surrounding the door; it was going to be a slow process.  Linda and Tom got Nick out of the hole and to where Leo had set up a first aid station to handle any survivors.  He gave Nick a couple of ibuprofen tablets, and had him lie down.  Nick gave up the fight, and actually slept for a while.  Just after dawn, there was a shout and one fireman came up to tell them they finally got the door out of the way.

Nick shot up like a rocket blast, and ran to the hole.  The boys, who had gone into the van and slept, came out blurry eyed and still covered in soot.  Tom had them stand back and give the others room.  The firemen put on masks and air tanks before following Nick.  It wasn't long before they reemerged empty handed.  No one was in there, no one at all. 

Nick stood in a daze, as he watched the sunrise.  Just a couple days ago Martha was cooking a breakfast for 'her boys' and now she was gone. 

His satellite phone rang.  He looked at it.  No one had that number.  He lifted it and answered "Nick Regnad, Private Investigations."

He then passed out.

Author's Note:
Okay, does that make you happy?  Evil?  Me?  Everyone wanted the next chapter, "Hurry, how can you be so mean to us?" you kept saying, so there it is.  Of course, I'm still on the run.  Maybe if you are lucky Chapter Twelve will address the Cliff hanger from Chapter 10...or...Hey maybe I could write a flash back on how Linda and Lee grew up together, and tell all about her first husband.... That should be good for another chapter or two.  <Evil laughter fades as Str8mayb walks off.>
Special thanks to Hal for bomb shelter idea, it didn't work out quite as he had intended but, hey, I'm evil remember.  Besides the air in there was very stale.
Send appeals for mercy, to str8mayb@paddedroom.us  All death threats to my chief   editorradiorancher@crackerwriter.us

Editor's Note:

I think I might run away for a while too. Now let me see, I wonder who was on the Satellite Phone? And who told Nick that Duckman was toast?
Were those hints? Is Helen Ready?  Is Clint Black? Is Slappy White? Is Mary Anne Faithful? Is Robert Young? What did Della Wear? If tin whistles are made of tin, what do they make fog horns out of? How far down does the kitchen sink? If you plant bird seed, does a bird grow?
I hope at least one of those questions will be answered in the next chapter.

Darryl
AKA Radio Rancher

Fort Chief Editor's Notes:

Mr. Str8mayb is a very Evil Author and has not changed his evil ways. The only good thing he has done is getting rid of the crooked FBI Agent Dukman at least I think he got rid off him. Str8mayb has definitely earned the title of Evil Author and Master of Misdirection.  My good friend 'Goos' is trying to track him down. We won't give up until we track him down and make him write Chapter Twelve faster.
The Story Lover AKA TSL.