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Riverton Pt. 01

By: K.K.



I wasn't sure were to put this story but decided on loving wives even though there is no cheating wife in this story. Sexual content is very limited as this is more of mystery/adventure story.

I would like to thank Papagus for proof reading this story and correcting my many errors and typos. 



Prolog 

Detectives Olson and Barron were talking in the hallway. I had just finished telling my story for the second time that night when Detective Barron asked Detective Olson to step out of the room. I could hear them talking in the hallway. It seemed that the hole I had fallen into on Tuesday seemed to just keep getting deeper. 

I had told the detectives the truth, at least everything I told him was factual, it just didn't all happen the way I said it did. What I didn't tell them had happened by accident but I was sure no one would believe me so I left out that part of the story. I just hoped that the two detectives wouldn't make the connection. 

Chapter 1 – Riverton, Missouri

Riverton, Missouri is situated on the De Moines River, ten miles upstream from its confluence with the Mississippi. The city sits on the southwest side of the river and is protected from the river by a twenty-foot high levy that has saved the city from floods on several occasions. The current population of forty-two thousand is about the same as it has been since the end of World War Two. 

Riverton Plastics was the largest employer in Riverton until 1995 when they were bought out by Detroit based Pace Automotive Plastics (PAP) which is a leading manufacturer of plastic parts for the automotive industry as well as being my employer. 

My name is Tom Blanchard and I was born in Riverton. Except for the four years I attended the University of Missouri to earn a degree in electrical engineering I have spent my whole life here. PAP hired me right after graduation in 1997. 

I had received some better job offers but I wanted to live in Riverton so I accepted a position as an Information Systems Specialists in PAP's IS department. My main job responsibility was to keep the company's computer network up and running.

My father, an Orthodontist, and my mother, an English teacher at Riverton Central High School, both took early retirement in 2000. They enjoy taking ocean cruises so they moved to Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, which allows them to benefit from last minute deals on unsold cabins on cruise ships. Since retiring they have averaged a four or seven day cruise about every three months. The benefit to me was that they sold me their house, the house I grew up in, for a lot less than the market value. Up until that time I had been renting an apartment in town while my brother Jack, who was two years older than me, was working and living in St. Louis. Jack had no interest in the house or living in Riverton so he had no problem with my parents selling me the house.

Chapter 2 – Holly Albertson

After returning from college my life in Riverton had become a comfortable routine. I got up at six o'clock every morning and was at work by half past seven. Lunch was in a brown bag and was eaten at noon. At 5:30 PM I was out the door and on my way to dinner. At least three and sometimes four or five times a week, dinner was the special at the Riverside Diner. The diner sat on the levy and had a wonderful view of the Des Moines River and Iowa on the other side. It was my habit to sit in one of the booths along the windows so I could watch the river traffic and the fishermen on the bank of the levy.

Before I met Holly Albertson I had no serious relationships but usually had a date on Saturday nights. My dates usually consisted of dinner and a movie and sometimes a little horizontal mambo ending with a wet spot in someone's bed.

In January of 2002, I was promoted to Manager of Information Systems for Pace Automotive Plastics, Riverton Division. It was the Friday following my promotion and I had just returned from a week of meetings at PAP corporate headquarters in Detroit and had gone to the diner to eat before going home. I had just sat down by the windows like I always do when she appeared at my table. I knew all of the waitresses at the Riverside but I hadn't ever seen this one before. She was a tall, about five feet ten inches tall, and her long dark brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Her large hazel eyes were the most attractive feature of her very pretty face. 

While she placed a glass of water on the table I quickly glanced at her nametag.

"Well, hello Holly. When did you start working here?" I asked.

Holly pulled back from the table and gave me a worried look. 

"Why?"

"You are new here aren't you? I just wondered when you started." 

"I started Monday," Holly said, still looking a little wary of me.

I guessed that being new at the job, Holly was probably still a little nervous and that might account for her reaction to my question. After what seemed to be a long pause, Holly managed to ask me if I was ready to order. I ordered the Friday special, fried catfish, coleslaw, French fries and hushpuppies. I don't think Holly and I exchanged more than two words before I left.

While I thought that Holly was quite attractive I am not the type of man who thinks that he has to get to know every attractive woman he meets. I had put her out of my mind as soon as I left the diner that evening and when I returned to the diner Saturday evening for dinner I had given no thought as to whether she would be working or not. I took my usual table by the windows and was watching a barge being pushed upriver by a large tug. I was still looking out the window when a glass of water was put down in front of me. I turned to look at my waitress and recognized her immediately.

"Good evening Holly, nice to see you again. How are you tonight?" I said, in what I thought was a friendly tone.

Holly looked at me suspiciously and asked, "Are you ready to order?"

It seemed that for some reason Holly didn't like me. I couldn't figure out why, but I had long ago learned that no matter how hard you try you cannot make everyone like you. So, I just didn't worry about it. I ordered the fried chicken special and didn't bother trying to engage Holly in any further conversation.

I went back to the diner again Monday evening hoping that Holly would not be there or at least would not be working my section of the diner. I was watching a young man pulling a large channel cat out of the river when she spoke to me. There was an edge to her words that startled me.

"Why are you following me?" she hissed.

"Following you?"

"You show up out of nowhere and then you keep coming back and sitting at my station," she said. "Are you stalking me?"

I could not believe what I was hearing. "Stalking you? You think I am stalking you just because I sat at your station three times? Don't flatter yourself." I said. Her accusation had pissed me off.

"You've only been working here a week, I have been coming to this diner three or four times a week for the last four years and I always sit at one of these tables by the windows. If you don't believe me you can ask any of the other waitresses, they all know me." I said. "Here's a news flash for you, I am going to keep coming here and sitting by the windows, so if you don't like waiting on me you can either work a different station or you can quit. So either take my order or send over another waitress."

Holly seemed to be a little flustered and she made a quick exit. A minute later I saw her talking to Carol and Jean, two of the other waitresses, near the kitchen door. She pointed at me and then it looked like she was just listening to what the other waitresses were telling her.

Two minutes later she was back at my table with a menu and a glass of water.

"I am so sorry that I acted that way. I guess I am still a little jumpy. I'm new in town and I don't know anyone here. Carol told me this was like your second home and now I just feel so fool." 

"Apology accepted," I said. "Why don't we just start over? I'm Tom Blanchard and like I said I come in here three or four times a week. Once you get to know me you'll see I am not really a scary person."

"I'm Holly Albertson," Holly said. 

Holly and I didn't immediately become a couple. I continued going to the dinner three or four times a week and Holly usually waited on me. Over time, as we learned more about each other we became friends. At first Holly wasn't very free with information about herself but I did manage to find out that she had gone to college in New Jersey but she was vague about exactly what school she had gone to or what she had studied. She was raised by her mother, who was killed in a car accident a couple of years earlier. Holly never knew her father. 

We often discussed books and movies. As intelligent as Holly was it kind of bothered me that she was working as a waitress in a diner, but I didn't question her about it. 

It was three months before I finally asked her out. We went out to dinner but not at the Riverside, and then to a movie. After the movie we went out for a drink. It was then that I asked her why she thought I might be stalking her.

"I lived in New Jersey before I came here," Holly said. "The guy I was living with was abusive and when I tried to break up with him he threatened to kill me. One night, when he was asleep, I packed what I could fit in one suitcase and I left. I stayed in a motel that night and emptied my bank account in the morning. After that I just started driving west. My car broke down when I got to Riverton and while I was waiting to get it repaired I saw a help wanted sign in the window at the diner. I made a quick decision to apply for the job and if I got it I would stay here for a while. 

"When you showed up the following week you seemed to know my name and you asked how long I had been working at the diner, it scared me. I thought that ah... Mike... might have sent someone to find me. Then you were back the next night and again a couple of nights later. It just scared me."

"I knew your name because you were wearing a name tag," I said.

"I realized that later."

"Do you still think Mike, is that his name? ... Do you think he might still be looking for you?" 

"No. Thinking about it now, I don't think he would bother. He was a player so he probably had another girlfriend before I even got to Riverton. Besides, I don't think he would pay anyone to look for me. It's just that when I got here I didn't know anyone and I was scared. I am not scared anymore."

When I took her home that night she said that she had a great time. I told her that I did too. She kissed me gently on the lips and said good night.

As she closed her apartment door I could still feel that kiss. I have kissed a lot of girls harder with much more passion than that kiss, but I had never had a kiss that made me want another one as much. 

After our second date we sat in my car in front of Holly's apartment building making out. I opened Holly's blouse and unhooked her bra. I cupped her warm soft breast in my hand and I could feel the pounding of her heart. I caressed her breasts first with my hands and then with my lips, while she kissed my neck and nibbled on my ears. Minutes later she asked me to stop.

"I am getting so hot that I am afraid that if I don't stop now I won't be able to later," she said. "I really like you but I am not going to have sex with you on our second date." 

I didn't try to force things opting instead to wait until Holly was ready. It was on our fifth date that she decided that she was ready. That night when I brought her home she invited me into her apartment. That was the first time I had been inside. I had come to the door to pick her up and to bring her home on our previous dates but she hadn't invited me to come inside. I didn't miss the significance of her invitation.

Holly poured us both a glass of wine and then tapped my glass with hers before taking a sip. Holly then put her glass down and smiled at me.

"What would you like for breakfast in the morning?" she said. "I have bacon and eggs or cereal."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"I'm sure."

"Bacon and eggs."

Holly took my hand, led me to her bedroom and began to remove her blouse. While she finished removing her blouse and bra I removed my shoes, socks and then took my shirt and pants off. Then I watched as Holly unzipped her skirt and let it slide down her legs to the floor. Holly stood there in just her panties while I stripped off my under shorts. 

I went to Holly and embraced her. We began kissing, gently at first and then with more passion. Holly wrapped her hand around my already throbbing erection and I slipped my hand inside her panties pressing my finger into the warm damp cleft in her vulva. When my finger entered her already slippery sex I felt her tremble and her body began to sag as though her legs could no longer hold her up. I lifted Holly up, laid her on the bed and removed her panties. Then I retrieved the condom I kept in my wallet and put it on. 

Holly spread her legs for me and I moved between her thighs pressing my rigid cock against the warm soft flesh of her vulva. When the head found the cleft in her mound I slowly entered her. I'm sorry but I have trouble trying to find the right words to describe the feeling of being inside Holly that night. All I can say is that it was wonderful. I could feel the heat of her passion as I penetrated farther and farther into her. I could feel the muscles in Holly's buttocks tighten as she pushed her pelvis up to receive me while at the same time I felt my desire building with each stroke.

When I was fully inside her I stopped moving and asked if she was all right. She told me she was and that it felt great having me inside her. 

When I began to move again I pulled myself almost all the way out of her then pushed back in. I continued to do this picking up speed as I continued stroking into her. I kissed her on the mouth and neck and then whispered, "Does my cock feel good inside your pussy?"

"Yes it does. It feels very good,' she said.

"Tell me how it feels," I said.

"I love the way you're fucking me with your cock," she said. "You are making my pussy so hot. I think you are going to make cum soon."

Later, Holly told me that she couldn't believe that she had actually said those things but she liked the way it made her feel when she used those words to describe how she was feeling.

Soon I felt her begin to orgasm and it was unlike any other woman I had ever been with. Holly kept saying, "Fuck me. Oh yes fuck me hard. I'm having a fucking orgasm. Oh God it's feels good."

Right after that I started to climax and I had the most intense orgasm I could remember ever having.

At that moment I didn't think there could be anything better in the world. When it was over we just held each other. There was no more dirty talk, just the afterglow of lovemaking.

Over breakfast in the morning Holly told me more about her past life. She had a law degree but due to a bad experience, that she wouldn't talk about she no longer wanted to practice law. I suggested that she should look for a job that was more befitting her level of education rather than being a waitress. I am not saying that there is anything wrong with being a waitress, but it is not the right job for someone as highly educated as Holly. 

Holly took my advice and a few weeks later she was able to get the job of assistant to the head librarian at the Riverton Library. The head librarian was in her sixties and was planning to retire in a couple of years so Holly became her heir apparent.

After dating for about four months I asked Holly to move in with me. She was more than happy to accept and then in May of 2005 Holly became my wife.

Chapter 3 – Life Goes On

When we got married Holly and I decided to hold off having children for a few years. Our financial position was sound but we wanted to significantly increase our savings so that Holly would be able to take a few years off to be a stay at home mother. We established a dollar amount for our savings goal and agreed that when we reached that target we would start our family. 

One evening a couple of months later I got a visit from John Dixon. John and I went to high school together and we have remained friends over the years. 

John and I spent a few minutes catching up before he got to the point of his visit.

"Tom, I have an opportunity I think you might be interested in. It will give you a chance to pick up some extra money, if you are interested," John said. 

"I am not going to sell Amway products for you, John," I said. I was joking. I knew that he would think my Amway reference was amusing. John works for the local telephone company but a couple of years earlier he and I had both been approached by an Amway distributor. Neither of us was interested in his pitch.

"What do you know about Amway?" he said and then laughed. "Don't worry, it's not. This is something that is right up your alley and it doesn't require you to make any investment. My company has just started offering DSL high speed Internet service to our telephone customers and we are looking for installers.

"All you would have to do is go to the customer's home and switch them over to the digital signal and install a DSL modem. Then you would configure the modem and install some software on their computer. Finally you would make sure that the customer has a digital filter installed anywhere that they have an analog device connected to their telephone line."

John explained that because most to the installs would be done at customers homes the majority of these installs would need to be done in the evenings or on Saturdays when their customer's were at home so this wouldn't interfere with my day job. 

Holly and I discussed the offer and decided I should take the job. It was something I could easily do and I could earn a few hundred extra dollars a week until the workload slowed down. So, starting the following week I was out doing DSL installs two or three nights a week and once in a while on a Saturday. 

At first I was concerned that Holly would get tired of being left home alone two or three nights a week but she became a literacy volunteer at the high school on the nights I was out doing DSL installs. 

Chapter 4 – The Good Life

In the three years since we got married life had been very good. Our marriage was strong. I was crazy about Holly and I don't think I could ever find a more loving wife. 

We had reached our savings goal and had begun talking about when would be the best time to start working on making a baby. We decided to start trying in July hoping that our baby would be born in March or April.

Last January my brother Jack got the good news that his company was sending him to Paris for a two-year assignment. In preparation for the assignment, Jack sold his 2006 Mustang to me. We moved the rest of his personal belongings consisting of his furniture, motorcycle and riding gear, and the clothes he wasn't taking with him, into a ten by fifteen foot storage locker that he rented in Riverton. Jack gave me the combination to the locker and asked me to keep an eye on his stuff for him. 

I was really happy for Jack. I knew that he was excited about the opportunity to work in Paris. Mostly, though, I was happy that he gave me a great deal on the Mustang.

Evenings were my favorite time of day. That's when Holly and I sat together relaxing with a drink and talked about our day. 

This past March was a busy month for us. It seemed like I was out doing DSL installs almost every night while Holly was busy with the literacy volunteers and was tasked with doing a complete inventory of the library, books, furniture and fixtures. One Friday evening at the end of one particularly long week when Holly had been working late every night on the inventory and we hadn't had much time together, Holly and I were relaxing with a drink and talking about our week. Holly had just finished telling me about a few things that happened at the library relating to the inventory, and then asked me, "So how was your week?" 


Riverton Pt. 01



"This was a pretty good week for me," I said and began to laugh. "That is except for three DSL installs that were a little out of the ordinary." All of the DSL installs I did were in customer's homes and I ran into a lot of strange situations during these installs. Holly always enjoyed my stories about the strange things that occasionally happened.

"Monday night I went over to the old house on the corner of Third and Utica."

"... that old Victorian?" Holly said.

"That's the one," I said. "I rang the doorbell and someone called out from the back of the house and told me to come in. When I walked in I noticed newspapers had been laid on the floor leading back to the kitchen. No one came out to greet me so I identified myself and why I was there. Someone in the kitchen called out and told me to come back there. Looking at the newspapers on the floor again I figured that they must have mopped or waxed the floors and didn't want me to walk on them yet so I started across the room stepping only on the newspapers. I was halfway across the room before I realized my mistake. The papers were not laid on the floor for me to walk on but to cover up several accidents my client's three puppies had in the living room."

"The dogs peed on the floor?"

"No, little piles of puppy poop."

"Oh, yuck!"

"Exactly. It was embarrassing trying to explain to the customer why I walked on the piles of poop. The customer wasn't real happy and needless to say I threw those shoes in the trash when I got home."

"Did the customer file a complaint?"

"No. I guess they realized that they were at least partly at fault for not meeting me at the door and telling me not to step on the papers.

"Anyway, on Wednesday evening I had a call at those new condos on the north side of town near the river. This guy comes to the door is dressed in boxer shorts and a sleeveless undershirt. He was about five foot nothing, fat, bald and was wearing a pair of glasses that looked as though they were made from the bottoms of a couple of Coke bottles. On top of that, he was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and the jelly was running down his hand to his wrist and there was a big glob of jelly on his undershirt. He reminded me a little of Danny DiVito and when he spoke he sounded like Truman Capote. I almost burst out laughing."

"That's quite a picture," Holly said.

"There was almost no furniture in the place. No kitchen table or chairs and there were only two chairs in the living room. His computer was set up on a card table in one of the bedrooms."

"Well he was probably just moving in," Holly said.

"That's what I figured too. Then, when I sat down at his computer to configure the DSL modem there was a gun sitting next to the keyboard."

"He actually left a gun lying on the table where you had to work?"

"Yep. I asked him to remove the gun but instead of taking the gun he asked me if I was afraid of guns. 

"I told him I wasn't but I didn't feel comfortable with his gun being right there where I was working. He said it wasn't loaded and then asked me if I even knew what kind of gun it was. It looked like the guns you see on all of the cop shows on television so I said it looked like a nine millimeter. Turned out to be a good guess. 

"He told me to go ahead and check to make sure it wasn't loaded. I had no clue how to do that. So he stood there, still eating his sandwich while he told me how to eject the clip and pull the slide back to make sure the gun was empty. The clip was empty and there wasn't anything in the chamber either. I tried to hand the gun back to him but he said he didn't want to get peanut butter and jelly on it so he asked me to put the clip back in leave it on the table."

"Did he say why he left his gun on the table?" Holly asked.

"No. I'm guessing that he bought himself a gun so he could feel like a tough guy," 

"You would think that he would put the gun away knowing that you were coming to work on his computer," Holly said.

"You would think. Maybe he left it on the table just to see what I would do.

Like I said, he was just a strange little guy."

"What else happened?"

"Nothing, I got his computer up and running on the Internet and left."

"I'm not sure I like that story so much. I don't like guns and I don't like the idea of you being alone with a guy like that." 

"He was harmless," I said.

"Well, I still don't like it. You said you had three stories," Holly said.

"The last install was on Thursday night. It was at an old farmhouse out on Old Hawley Road. When I pulled into the driveway two huge dogs ran out to the car and stood at my door growling at me. I had to wait in the car until their owner came out of his house and called them off. When I got out of the car the dogs sniffed me and then settled down. By the time I got to the porch both dogs seemed friendly. The problem with that was when I tried to pet one of the dogs the other would growl at me. The owner just laughed and said, 'don't worry about that, they just get a little jealous of each other.'"

"Were you scared?"

"A little bit. These dogs were big enough to eat me in about three bites. Anyway, when I walked into the house it was filthy. I could see cat hair all over the furniture and the house reeked of cat urine. The smell was so strong that it was difficult to breath. When I finally got to the computer and started working the guy's two-year old son comes over and stands as close as he can get to me and watches what I am doing. The guy said, 'Baby Tommy wants to watch you,' then he laughed. 

"It might have been funny if the kid wasn't wearing an over loaded diaper. The smell from that diaper was literally making my eyes water and nearly triggered my gag reflex. I just couldn't understand how the father could not know the kid needed a diaper change.

"I had just finished setting up the home page for the guy when his wife came in. She noticed that the kid needed a diaper change immediately and asked her husband why he hadn't taken care of it and he said, 'Tommy wanted to watch didn't you baby?'

"As soon as I walked out the door I started sucking in fresh air so fast I almost hyperventilated."

Holly leaned over and kissed me. "You poor baby," she said. "I do love your stories but it isn't fair that my days are never as interesting or amusing as yours. 

"Amusing? I'll trade dog poop and stinking diapers for your inventory any day."

Holly kissed me and said, "I'm sorry you had such a tough week, maybe this will make you feel better." Holly then pushed her tongue into my mouth and her hand into my pants. We ate dinner very late that evening.

That was three months ago. Since then things have settled down. I have been doing fewer DSL installs and having achieved our savings target Holly stopped taking her birth control pills two weeks ago and we started working on making a baby. Everything in my life was great until this past Tuesday. 

Chapter 5 - The Troubles Begin - Tuesday June 10, 2008

Tuesday morning Holly and I had breakfast together and then as I was headed out the door Holly asked me what time I would be home.

"I don't have anything scheduled this evening so I should be home by 5:30," I said. "Why?"

"I was thinking we should have a quick dinner and then get back to work on making a baby." 

"Sounds like a great plan to me," I said.

"I almost forgot, could you go over to JC Penney's and pick up my catalog order?"

"What did you order from Penney's?"

"Something that might come in handy tonight," Holly said.

"Oh, okay, I'll pick it up during my lunch break."

"Thanks Sweetie, love you."

"Love you too. Gotta go."

At five o'clock I shut down my computer, cleared off my desk and headed home. I was over halfway home when I realized that I had forgotten to pick up Holly's catalog order at Penney's. To go to the Riverton Mall, where the JC Penney store was located I would have to turn around and drive back past my office at PAP so I debated just going home and telling Holly I would pick the order up on Wednesday. I ended up turning around and going back to Penney's because I remembered what Holly had said about her purchase coming in handy that evening. I was thinking lingerie. 

I called Holly from Penney's to tell her I was running late but she didn't answer the phone. I didn't bother to leave a message. When I got home at 6:35, Holly's car was in the garage so I was a little surprised when I walked into the house because it was so quiet. Holly always had music on when she was home alone. Not only was there no music but there was also no answer from Holly when I called out to her. Then I noticed the smell. It was familiar but I couldn't immediately identify it. Then it hit me. It smelled like someone had lit off a firecracker in the house. 

"Holly?"

No answer. 

"Holly, are you here?"

Again there was no answer. I was beginning to worry as I walked through the house. The smell got stronger the closer I got to the kitchen. Somehow I knew that whatever waited for me in the kitchen was not good. I dropped my briefcase and the bag from JC Penney's on the sofa and walked to the kitchen door.

I could feel my heart pounding inside my chest as I drew in a breath and forced myself to go into the kitchen. The sight that awaited me I will never be able to erase from my mind. Holly was lying on the floor in a puddle of her own blood. It appeared that she had fallen as she was trying to go out the back door. She was lying on her left side with her left arm extended through the partially opened door.

I called her name as I stumbled across the room but Holly did not respond. I pulled her head into my lap and checked her pulse in her neck as I pulled out my cell phone and punched in 911. Her pulse was faint but she was still alive.

"911 operator, what's your emergency?"

"I need help. My wife... I think she's been shot."

"What's your address?"

I gave the operator my address.

"Whom am I talking to?" 

"Tom Blanchard. Please hurry, I think she's dying."

"Help is on the way. Now stay on the phone with me. Tell me what happened."

"I don't know what happened. I came home from work and found her on the floor. There is blood everywhere."

"Try to stay calm Mr. Blanchard. Is your wife breathing?"

"I think so. I can feel a faint pulse. Please hurry."

"Help should be there in a few minutes. Now, how do you know that your wife was shot?"

"I don't know... It's just the smell and all this blood."

"What smell?"

"It smells like a firecracker went off in the kitchen. What's with all the questions, my wife is dying. She needs help."

"Stay calm Mr. Blanchard. Help is coming."

Finally I heard sirens. I gently laid Holly's head down and ran to the door. 

"Mr. Blanchard? Who shot your wife?"

"What? I don't know. I wasn't here when it happened."

As the emergency vehicles got closer I ran out to the street to flag them down. I still had my phone with me but I was no longer listening to the 911 operator and her endless questions. 

The first vehicle to arrive was the fire emergency truck followed closely by a police car. The paramedics were still getting their equipment from the emergency response truck when the ambulance arrived. 

The police officer that arrived with the paramedics was the first to reach me.

"Where is the victim?" he asked as he approached. 

The two paramedics followed as I led the officer into the kitchen. The paramedics immediately went to work on Holly as the police officer began asking me questions.

"What's your name?"

"Tom Blanchard."

"What's the victim's name?"

"Holly Blanchard."

"Your wife?"

"Yes."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"I don't know. I found her like that when I got home."

"Is that your wife's blood on your hands and clothes?"

"Yes. I knelt down on the floor with her to check if she had a pulse while I called 911."

"Did you see anyone leaving the house when you came home?"

"No."

"Do you own a gun Mr. Blanchard?"

"No."

Just then more police arrived. One man, not wearing a uniform seemed to take charge. He gave orders to the uniformed officers and then approached me.

"I'm Detective David Olson, are you Mr. Blanchard?"

"Yes."

Detective Olson look to be about fifty. He was about five feet six inches tall and probably weighed around 160 pounds. He had silver hair that was quite thin on top.

"Tell me what happened here."

"I don't know. I came home and found my wife on the floor." As I turned to point to where I found Holly I saw the paramedics lifting Holly onto a gurney. The tubes from at least three IV bags were already pumping fluid into her body. 

I looked at the pool of blood on the floor where Holly had been laying and I suddenly felt faint. I think I started to go down but Detective Olson grabbed my arm and held me up. 

"Are you all right?"

"I'm a little light headed. I think I need to sit down."

Detective Olson followed me into the living room where I sat down on the sofa. It took me only a moment to start to feel stronger. The detective was just about to start asking me more questions when one of the paramedics announced that they were ready to transport Holly to the hospital.

"Can we do this later? I need to go with my wife."

"Go ahead. I'll see you at the hospital in a little while."

Chapter 6 – Waiting

My memories of the next hour are incomplete. I don't remember climbing into the back of the ambulance but I do remember holding Holly's limp hand as we raced to Riverton Memorial Hospital. Most of what went on in the emergency room is a blur. I do remember a nurse pushing me away from Holly and telling me to go to the waiting room. How appropriate is that name, 'waiting room.' What was I waiting for? Good news or bad news.

I have no idea how long I sat there before someone came to talk to me. I have no recollection of who he was. I think it must have been one of the doctors that had attended to Holly in the ER.

"Mr. Blanchard, we have stabilized your wife and she is now on her way to surgery," he said.

"Is she going to be all right?"

"I don't know. We don't yet know how serious her injuries are. We'll know more when she comes out of surgery."

"How long will that be?"

"Could be an hour or it might take several hours. It all depends on the extent of her internal injuries. I'm sorry I don't have more definitive answers for you."

I was then told where I should go to wait, another waiting room. On the way I stopped into a bathroom. When I looked at myself in the mirror I became violently ill. I just barely made it to one of the commodes before I began to vomit. When my stomach finally settled down I was able to look in the mirror again. The front of my shirt and pants was covered with blood, as were my hands. As I looked at my bloody reflection I felt another wave of nausea but it quickly passed. I managed to wash all of the blood off my hands but I couldn't do anything about my shirt or my pants.

I had been sitting in the waiting room for a little over an hour when Detective Olson arrived. 

"Any word?" he asked.

"She's in surgery. They said it could be a few hours before I hear anything."

"How are you doing?"

"I think I am running on adrenalin and caffeine right now."

"Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?"

"Does it make any difference if I mind or not?"

"I know this is difficult for you but we have to do this. I am sorry."

"Go a head and ask your questions."

"Do you own a gun?"

"I already told the cop at the house I don't own a gun."

"Did that officer test your hands for GSR?"

"GSR?"

"Gun shot residue," Detective Olson said. "It's blow back from when you fire a gun."

"But I didn't fire a gun."

"We just have to verify that as part of our investigation. So, did the officer test you?"

"No."

"Did you wash your hands?"

I held my hands up so that Detective Olson could see them. "They were covered with blood. I had to wash them."

"We'll have to get your clothes later. We can test them."

"Fine."

Detective Olson continued to ask me question for the next two hours. He seemed to be asking me the same questions over and over only he worded them differently. It was obvious that I was his prime suspect and he was trying to trick me into a confession. This bothered me a great deal but there was nothing I could do about it. I was confident that once they looked at all of the evidence they would know that I didn't try to kill Holly.

It was 8:45 when the doctor finally came out to talk to me.

"Mr. Blanchard, I am Dr. Shah."

I tried to read his face to see if he was going to give me good news or bad news.

"How's my wife?"

"We have done everything we can for now," he said. "Your wife had two bullet wounds. One bullet entered from the back on her right side, went through her right lung and exited the intercostals space between ribs four and five. The second bullet entered her right side and struck rib number six. Hitting the rib fragmented the bullet causing a lot of internal damage. We were able to repair most of the damage. Mrs. Blanchard was in shock when she was brought in and slipped into a coma during the surgery. At this time we can't say for certain whether she we recover or not."

"How long before you know?"

"Could be a few days or it could drag on for a long time," Dr. Shah said. "We just have to hope for the best."

"When can I see her?"

"She'll be brought down from the recovery room to intensive care in a couple of hours. I think it would probably be best if you went home and got some sleep and then come back in the morning. There most likely won't be any significant change in her condition over night."

I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to leave Holly alone at the hospital but I didn't want to spend the night sitting in the waiting room either. 

I looked at Dr. Shah and said, "If anything changes someone will call me immediately?"

"Of course."

Then I looked at Detective Olson. "If you are done questioning me I guess I will go home then."

"Is there somewhere else you can stay tonight?" Detective Olson asked. "You won't be able to stay at your house, it's a crime scene.

"I'll get a hotel room then but I need to go home and get some clothes," I said.

"I'll have an officer take you home and wait while you change. He'll need to bag the clothes you're wearing and bring them into our lab."

I had a sudden vision of the police lab on the CSI television program and almost laughed when I tried to imagine what kind of lab the Riverton police department would have. The moment passed quickly when the image of Holly lying on the kitchen floor in a pool of her own blood flashed into my head. I felt my legs giving out and I had to sit down while Detective Olson called the station to arrange to have an officer drive me home.

There were still police officers in my house when I got home. I wasn't allowed into the kitchen and I was escorted everywhere else I went in the house. The officer that brought me home waited in the room with me while I got undressed. He then bagged everything I was wearing including shoes, socks and underwear. I wanted to take a shower but I didn't want an audience so I elected to wait till I got to my hotel. The officer then watched me closely as I packed a few clothes into a suitcase and then he drove me to the Motel 8 on Broad Street.

End Part One



Riverton Pt. 02



Chapter 7 – Slim and Porky

When I woke up Wednesday morning the shock that had kept me in a cloud the day before was gone and reality had set in. I found myself dealing with the real possibility that I could lose Holly. I still couldn't get my head around the idea that someone would want to kill her. Was this a random act or did someone we know do this? It seemed that every few minutes the impact of what happened would hit me and I would start crying. I called work to let them know that I wouldn't be in and then I called the police station. Detective Olson wasn't in yet but I managed to find an officer who could help me. I was told that they had processed my car and I could go home and get it but I wasn't to go inside the house until the forensic people were done with their investigation.

I took a cab to the house, got my car and drove to the hospital. I was allowed to see Holly for ten minutes every two hours always with a police officer in the room. Holly's face was very pale and swollen. I was told that there had been no change in her condition since I left the hospital the previous evening. 

Several friends from PAP, as well as friends of Holly's from the library and the diner, stopped by the hospital to offer their support. Detective Olson came to the hospital around four o'clock, apparently to see if I wanted to change any of my answers to his questions from Tuesday night. He finally left me alone around seven o'clock. 

At 7:15 I headed over to the Riverside Diner to get something to eat. I could not face eating in the hospital cafeteria for the third time that day. I had just pulled into the parking lot at the diner when my cell phone rang.

"Mr. Blanchard, it's Detective David Olson."

"What now?" I asked. 

"I thought you might be interested to know that we believe at we have the gun."

"The gun that was used to shoot my wife?"

"Yes."

"Where did you find it?"

"It was hidden under a stack of newspapers in your garage."

"Why would he hide the gun in my garage?"

"Who is he?"

"Who is who?"

"You asked why he would hide the gun in your garage. Who is he?" Detective Olson asked.

"The guy that shot my wife."

"Do you know who he is?"

"No, I don't know who he is."

"Then how do you know it's he and not a she?"

"I don't know. I just have a hard time thinking of a woman doing something like that." 

"Well, the gun has been dusted for finger prints and is being test fired to determine if it was the gun used to shoot your wife."

"Good, let me know what you find out," I said.

"Actually the reason I called was that I wanted to have you come down to the station."

"Now? I haven't eaten since noon. I was just going to get some dinner."

"Where are you now?" Detective Olson asked.

"I'm in the parking lot at the Riverside Diner."

"Good. I am close by. I'll join you there in a couple of minutes."

Detective Olson disconnected before I could say anything else. I slammed the car door and stood leaning against the car and waiting for him. 

I sensed rather than saw that someone was approaching me from behind but before I could turn around something hard was pressed into the side of my head.

"Don't move or you're dead," said a voice from behind me. 

Was I being robbed, perhaps a car jacking or was I being arrested. 

"Who are you and what do you want?" I said.

The man behind me gave me a sharp rap in the head with his gun and pushed me up against the side of my car.

"Shut the fuck up and just do as you're told," he said. "Give me your keys and your cell phone."

I passed the keys and my phone back over my right shoulder and he snatched them from my hand. I was beginning to panic. I was terrified of what would happen when Detective Olson arrived. Would there be shooting? Would I survive the next few minutes? These were the questions that occupied my thinking and I didn't have to wait long to get the answers. 

When I saw the brown Ford Crown Victoria turning into the parking lot my heart began pounding and my hands began to sweat. I, apparently, wasn't the only person to recognize the brown Ford as a police car. 

Another voice from behind me said, "Shit, it's a cop." 

The man with the gun squatted down next to me pressing the gun into my kidney and said, "Don't fucking move and don't say anything."

Detective Olson spotted me as soon as he got out of his car and started walking toward me. "You didn't have to wait for me out here," he said.

The man with the gun moved behind me and stood up using the car and my body to hide himself from Detective Olson. The detective was about fifteen feet away from me when the gunman, slide his gun up my side and then pushed it through my armpit and fired three quick shots. The gun must have had a silencer on it because the thwap, thwap thwap sound I heard was just barely loud enough to hear over the sound of the traffic passing on River Street. All three bullets hit Detective Olson in the chest and he went down onto his back and didn't move after that.

I was staring at Detective Olson's body lying in the parking lot when the gunman spun me around and pushed me toward the open trunk of a red Toyota Camry. This gave me my first look at my antagonists. The guy who had shot Detective Olson was about five foot five, weighed at least 300 pounds and was bald. The other man was the complete opposite. He was about six foot five and maybe weighed 170 pounds soaking wet. In my mind I immediately began to think of these two as Porky and Slim. 

Slim, who also had a gun, ordered me to climb into the trunk of the Camry while, Porky climbed into my Mustang. As I climbed into the trunk I heard my Mustang fire up and spin the tires leaving the parking lot. Once I was in the trunk, Slim wrapped my wrists and ankles with duct tape and then closed the lid. My fear level had spiked when I saw that I would be sharing the trunk space with a shovel. What possible use could these two men, who had just killed a cop and abducted me, have for a shovel? 

With my hands taped behind my back I could not reach the trunk release nor was there anyway I could use the shovel as a weapon. The best I could do was to try and remain calm so that I would be ready if and when an opportunity to escape presented itself. 

I couldn't see my watch so I could only estimate how long I had been in the trunk when we finally stopped. I guessed that the trip had only taken about fifteen minutes. 

Slim opened the trunk and grabbed me by my shirt collar and tried to pull me out. He quickly realized that I wasn't going to be able to help with my legs tapped together so Slim pulled a switchblade out of his pocket and used it to cut the tape and free my legs. 

I had my left foot on the ground and was lifting my right leg out of the trunk when Porky arrived in my Mustang.

"Did anyone see us leaving the parking lot?" Porky asked as he got out of the car.

"Didn't look like it," Slim said.

Porky came over and grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my face close to his. When he spoke to me his breath smelled so foul it almost made me retch. 

"You know what's really funny asshole?" Porky said. "Everyone's gonna think you shot that cop."

I heard Slim laugh but I didn't think there was anything funny about it. 

A quick look at my surroundings told me exactly where I was. We were standing in the old Union Pacific rail yard. The main rail line through the yard was still used occasionally but the sidings were no longer used. If I walked about a mile and a half down the main line tracks they would cross over Fifth Street Road and from there the tracks passed within two hundred yards of the back of my house. 

"Okay, let's go," Porky said as he pushed me toward the railroad tracks. I saw Slim grab the shovel out of the trunk of the Camry and then follow us across the tracks. 

Once we crossed over the main line through the yard and three more sets of tracks that had been sidings when the yard was in use, we started walking up Parker's Hill. I don't know where the name came from but I knew this area well. 

I hadn't been on top of Parker's Hill in fifteen years. When I was in high school my friends and I used to camp out on Parker's Hill. There was a clearing on top of the hill where we would build our campfire and lay out our sleeping bags. The spot was ideal because there were no houses around and our campsite could not be seen from the rail yard below. The side of Parker's Hill opposite the rail yard was heavily wooded with the trees growing so close together that it was nearly impossible to find your way through the ten acres of woods unless you could find one of the three paths that had been cut through the woods. Fortunately, I knew where the paths were and where they led. 

As we walked up the hill I studied my abductors looking for potential weaknesses. Porky wasn't dressed appropriately for the weather conditions. He was wearing tight jeans, which did not look good on his egg shaped body. He was also wearing a long sleeve blue oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow. The shirt was already sweat stained and Porky didn't look comfortable. Slim on the other hand was wearing knee length lime green Bermuda shorts with a matching Polo shirt. On his feet he was wearing penny loafers and no socks. He was dressed better for the weather but he looked like a giant green Popsicle with his skinny legs sticking out of those ugly lime green shorts. By the time we reached the clearing on top of Parker's Hill, Porky's shirt, as well as the waistband of his jeans, was completely drenched with sweat. 

The clearing had changed some since the last time I had been on Parker's Hill. There were small trees growing where we used to have our campfire but I still recognized the place. 

Porky stood behind me with his gun pointed at my head while Slim walked to the backside of the hill and stopped about fifty feet from the woods started to dig a hole. He worked at this for a few minutes and then stopped.

"I think our buddy Blanchard can dig his own fucking hole," Slim said. 

"Whatever," Porky mumbled.

Slim came over and took me by the arm and led me back to where he had been digging. Then he cut the tape off my hands and handed me the shovel. "Start digging asshole."

I didn't move. My first thought was that I was not going to dig my own grave but after giving it a little more thought and receiving a little encouragement from Slim in the form of a slap to my head with his gun, I changed my mind. It occurred to me that having the shovel in my hand might give me a chance. At least it could be a potential weapon. 

I started to dig while at the same time I watched for my opportunity to get away. As soon as I started digging, Porky tucked his gun into his belt and walked over to a tree and sat down under it. The fat bastard then pulled a candy bar from his shirt pocket and removed the wrapper. 

As long as Porky was sitting on the ground I would only have to deal with Slim but Slim was not cooperating. Every time I tried to get closer, Slim moved staying just far enough away from me that I would not be able to reach him if I tried to swing the shovel at him. My chances of surviving weren't looking good. I knew I was going to have to find a way to deal with Slim before Porky got off his fat ass and I was running out of time. 

In desperation I came up with a plan. My plan was to throw a shovel full of dirt in Slim's face and then charge him, swinging the shovel and screaming. My hope was that I would startle him enough so that I could get to him before he could shoot me. I scooped some dirt and was about to begin my attack when I saw them. It's funny how things work out sometimes. My salvation did not come as a result of my brilliant plan, as well thought out and foolproof as it was but rather from an attack from a tiny third party.

Slim was standing at the far end of the hole I was digging, watching me. I was sizing up how far I would have to throw the shovel full of dirt when I saw that Slim had placed his right foot on a soft mound of dirt. What I saw and Slim was unaware of was the thousand or so fire ants that were swarming over his shoe and up his bare leg. The amazing thing about fire ants is there ability to coordinate their attack. I knew with certainty that within the next few seconds, Slim was going to be in a lot of pain. I waited.

"What the Fuck! Oh Jesus Christ," Slim screamed. 

When Slim bent down to try and brush the ants off his leg I lunged toward him and swung the shovel like a baseball bat. I connected with his gun hand, which elicited another scream from Slim as his gun flew at least sixty feet through the air. 

Slim was screaming in pain as I bolted from the hole and ran toward the woods. I looked over my shoulder as I ran to see what Porky was doing. He was trying to stand up and draw his gun at the same time and was having a great deal of difficulty with both endeavors. I had just reached the woods and had slowed down to work my way through the thick growth when I heard the first bullet hit into the branches above my head. The next two shots missed by an even wider margin. 

When I was about twenty feet into the woods I turned to see if they were following me. I could see Porky pacing back and forth along the edge of the woods. He was too fat to squeeze through the thick growth of trees. I could hear him yelling at Slim, telling him to go into the woods after me but Slim was still jumping around and cursing as he tried to get rid of the ants that were still biting his leg.

With no one pursuing me I was able to carefully work my way through the trees to my goal. It took me ten minutes but I finally found the path I wanted. The path led south, away from Parker's Hill. Apparently the path hadn't been used much recently because it was overgrown with weeds and branches from the surrounding trees. The path wasn't very wide and it had lots of twists and turns through the woods but it allowed me to move quickly away from my abductors. A glance at my watch showed me that it was 8:15. The sun was starting to go down but it was already getting quite dark in the woods. I stopped for a minute and listened for any indication that I was being followed. Except for an occasional bird chirping I didn't hear a sound. I was scared, I hadn't eaten in several hours and I was feeling weak but I had to keep moving. I just wanted to get out of the woods before it got too dark to see where I was going.

Chapter 8 – The Farm House

I checked my watch again at 8:30. I had reached the point where the path exited the woods and I decided to wait there until the sun completely disappeared from the sky. It was 9:20 when I finally felt that it was dark enough for me to leave the safety of the woods. From my hiding place I walked another twenty yards down the path until it ended on a dirt farm road that belonged to the old Cheswick Farm. This was not a public road and hadn't been used in years. It was more of a wide dirt path that had been used by tractors and pickup trucks, than a road. I knew that if I followed this path to my left it would eventually cross under the Union Pacific railroad tracks and then end at a gate in the fence that ran along Rayburn Road. Rayburn Road was an unpaved county road. If I followed the farm path to my right it would take me alongside a couple of old pastures and from there it would lead me passed a barn and up to the Cheswick house.

I turned right and started walking. I remembered that the Cheswick house had been empty for a couple of years with a 'For Sale or Rent' sign in the yard. I was hoping the house was still empty so that I could hide there until morning. In the morning I would walk to a neighbor's house and ask them to call the police for me. 

As I stumbled along the old farm road in the dark, I started to think about what I was going to tell the police. A short fat sweaty guy I call Porky and a tall skinny guy that looked like a green Popsicle and that I call Slim, grabbed me in the Riverside Diner parking lot. Porky shot Detective Olson and made it look like I did it then Slim forced me into the trunk of his car. They took me up Parker's Hill where I was forced to start digging my own grave but then Slim was attacked by thousands of fire ants and I got away. Being that I was the prime suspect in the shootings of my wife and Detective Olson, the police were certain to believe my story. Actually, I wasn't sure that I would believe my story and I knew it was true. I tried to make sense out of what was happening but I couldn't. What possible reason could Porky and Slim have for wanting me dead and did they also shoot Holly? 

I followed the road passed the two empty pastures, the old barn and into the yard behind the Cheswick house. There were no lights visible from the back of the house so I walked around to the front. The front porch light was on but I could see no lights on inside the house. It appeared that someone was living in the house so I had to change my plans. I took a chance and rang the doorbell. I waited but when no one came to the door I walked out to the road. 

I looked up and down County Route Fifteen, which runs in front of the house but saw only darkness. This was all farming country and the houses were quite far apart and I knew that the next closest house was to my left on CR 15. The house was almost a half mile away over a hill. I stood at the end of the driveway looking to my left and I had just about made up my mind that I would walk to the next house and ask them for help when I saw lights from a car coming over the top of the hill. Fearing that the car might be Porky and Slim searching for me I turned and ran to the back of the house and ducked around the corner. I peeked out and looked back toward the road. What I saw almost made my heart come out of my chest. There were two cars, my Mustang and the Camry and both had slowed and were turning into the driveway. 

Could they have seen me? I didn't think so. I moved farther behind the house looking for a hiding place. Except for three steps leading up to the back door and a large propane tank there was nothing else along the back of the house that would provide a hiding place. I ducked behind the propane tank and lay down on the ground and watched the two cars drive past the house and all the way down to the barn. I broke into a cold sweat as I watched Slim get out of the Camry and open the barn doors so that Porky could drive my Mustang inside. 

I was in trouble, again. The stairs going up to the back door were behind me so there was no way I wouldn't be seen when the two of them came up to the house. I tried to move closer to the house while keeping my eyes on Slim. I reached out with my left arm to find the wall of the house and discovered what appeared to be an opening for a cellar window right next to me. I took a quick look to see if the window casement was big enough to hide me but it was only a couple of feet deep and about three feet long. I did noticed, however, that instead of a window the opening was covered by what appeared to be a small door that was hinged at the top so that it would open inward. While Porky and Slim closed the barn doors I pushed against the small door as hard as I could. Luck was on my side as the door was not locked from inside. It shuttered a little and then with a squeak it swung open. 

I could see nothing beyond the open door. I was terrified of what might be waiting for me in the darkness beyond the door but I was even more terrified of what would happen if Porky and Slim were to find me. 

I quickly turned my body so that I could keep my eyes on Porky and Slim while I pushed myself feet first into the darkness. I worked my way backwards through the opening using only my arms as there was nothing but air under my feet. It took me thirty long seconds to push my body through the opening and drop down to the cellar floor. 




Riverton Pt. 02



I couldn't see anything at first but I could hear the two men approaching the house. From their conversation I knew that they hadn't seen me. I was able to clearly hear what they were saying as they climbed the steps and entered the house through the back door.

"I am not looking forward to facing Big Tony when he gets here," Porky said. "He's pissed and it's your fault."

"How's it my fuckin fault?"

"You're the asshole that let him get away."

"I couldn't help it. Those fuckin' ants were biting the shit out of me. Look at my fuckin' leg. It's all swollen and it hurts like a mutha-fucka," Slim said. "Then the asshole hit me with the shovel and I think he broke my fuckin' hand. And what the fuck were you doing? Sitting under that fuckin' tree stuffin' your face. You shoulda been watchin' him too."

I could hear them walking around in the house talking but I couldn't catch every word. What I was able to hear told me that this guy they called Big Tony was coming to the house with three other guys that Porky referred to as Bagger, Meatball and Guy. 

After a few minutes my eyes adjusted to the limited light in the cellar. It was still quite dark but I could see that I was in what appeared to be a small room. Upon closer inspection I could see that it wasn't actually a room because the walls didn't go all the way up to the ceiling. They were only about four feet tall. As I moved along the wall I stepped on something that felt like a rock. I picked it up thinking I might be able to use it for a weapon if I had to. I couldn't see it very well but it looked like a piece of coal. That made sense. The small room I was in must have been the coal bin for the house when it had a coal furnace. 

There were only a few pieces of coal lying around because the owner had converted to a propane gas furnace at some point. The little door I crawled through must have been for the chute when they were getting a load of coal.

I felt my way along the low wall until I found an opening wide enough for me to step through. Although my eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the limited light in the cellar I could make out a staircase going up to the first floor and at the top of the stairs I could see light coming from under the door.

I moved to the bottom of the staircase being careful not to bump into anything that would alert the two dim bulbs upstairs to my presences in the cellar. From there I could hear their voices much better although I didn't have a clue what they were talking about.

I had just about figured out that Porky was telling Slim about some new all you can eat restaurant he had gone to recently when I heard a cell phone ring.

"It's Pug," Porky said. "Yea, were both here... Okay... See ya in a few..."

"What's up?" Slim asked.

"Big Tony and Bagger will be here in a few minutes. Guy and Sammy are hanging out near the cop house. "

"Why they hanging out there?"

"In case the big dumb shit tries to turn himself in."

"They gonna shoot him right there in front of the cop house?" Slim said.

"How the fuck should I know? Big Tony didn't tell me and I didn't ask."

"Did you tell Big Tony I broke my hand and I need somethin for my fuckin' leg?" Slim said.

"Did you hear me tell him that?"

"No. That's why I asked ya."

No, I didn't fuckin'tell him. You can tell him yourself when he gets here."

"Is he still pissed at us?"

"What do you think?"

Yea, I guess he is."

Except for Slim's complaints about his hand and the pain in his leg from the fire ant attack my two friends didn't say much more. I sensed that they were both worried about Big Tony's arrival at the house. I had no idea who this Big Tony was but I almost laughed when I thought about Porky and Slim trying to explain how I got away from them. Maybe Big Tony would shoot them both and get rid of two of my problems.

Chapter 9 – Big Tony

It got quiet upstairs, which gave me a little time to think. I was hiding in the basement of the house my would-be assassins were using as a base of operations. I wanted to leave but if I tried to climb back out through the coal chute the two geniuses upstairs might hear me. Besides, it had gotten so dark that I could no longer see my way back to the coal bin or the coal chute door. The smell of mildew in the damp cellar was making it difficult for me to breath. I heard a noise in the corner farthest away from me and decided that it was either a rat or a big mouse. My situation was not very comfortable.

The only positive was that I might hear something that would explain why these people shot Holly and why they wanted me dead. I moved carefully until I was directly under the landing at the top of the stairs. Once there I sat down on the floor and leaned against the wall and waited with Slim and Porky for the arrival of Big Tony.

"Car's comin'," I heard Porky announced.

"Is it Big Tony?"

"Think so."

"When he comes in, don't try to blame everything on me."

"Why the fuck not?"

"Cause it's not all my fault. If it wasn't for those fuckin ants he never would a got away. And you weren't any help, sittin on your fat ass eatin' a candy bar."

A few minutes later I heard a door open then a loud voice with a strong east coast accent said, "Hey Bagger, look what we got here. It's Pug and Bean, the moron twins."

"We ain't twins, Boss," Slim said. "Shit, we don't even look alike."

From what was being said I guessed that Bean must be what they called Slim and Pug must be Porky.

"Jesus Christ, I give you two mental defects a simple assignment. Just go to the house, cap the two of them and make it look like a murder suicide. Which one of you wants to tell me how you managed to fuck it up?"

"It wasn't our fault, Boss," Porky said. "We went to the house at 5:30, just like you told us. The bitch was home alone. She told us that Blanchard was supposed to be home at 5:45 but he still wasn't home at five after six. Then Bean said he thought he heard a car outside and when I turned to look the stupid bitch made a break for the back door. I had no choice but to shoot her before she got out of the house."

"So why didn't you cap the asshole when he came in the house, like you were supposed to?"

"The car Bean heard wasn't him and we were afraid that someone might have heard the shots so we split," Slim said.

Listening to them talk about shooting Holly and their plan to kill me as if they were talking about a blown play in a football game was unnerving. It made the hair on the back of my neck bristle while at the same time I felt a level of anger that I had never had before. For one insane moment I thought about charging upstairs and attacking them. Luckily I got my anger under control before I did something that stupid. After all, the only weapon I had was the piece of coal I still had in my hand.

"So, what the fuck happened at the diner? All you had to do was put him in the trunk of your car, put a bullet in his head and then bury the body someplace where it wouldn't be found for a long time. Instead of doing that you shot a cop." I think it was Big Tony that was speaking.

"The cop showed up before we could get Blanchard in the trunk," Porky said. "I shot the cop in a way that would make it look like Blanchard shot him."

"And you fucked that up too," Big Tony said. "The cop was wearing a vest. You managed to knock him off his feet but you didn't kill him. Luckily for you two bozos the impact knocked him unconscious so the cop does think that Blanchard shot him but if Blanchard ever gets a chance to talk and explain what really happened you two are fucked. I just hope you two understand this, I will personally bury both of you before I let your fuckups bring me down."

Big Tony was one cold blooded son of a bitch. It was obvious that this guy was some kind of gangster but what I could not understand was what could I have done that would make him want to kill me and why did they have to shoot Holly? 

"So, after you popped the cop why didn't you finish Blanchard right then?"

"We wanted to get out of there before anyone came out of the diner and saw what was going on," Porky said.

"Okay, I'll buy that but how did he get away from you? All you had to do was take him out in the country, open the trunk and shoot him in the head and then bury his body. How the fuck did you let him get away?" Big Tony said.

"We had the perfect place to bury him but it was on top of this big fucking hill. We didn't want to have to carry him so we made him walk up the hill?" Porky said.

"Okay, okay... So he walked up the hill and then ran away?"

"No." Porky said. "Bean didn't want to dig the hole so he gave the shovel to Blanchard and told him to dig his own grave."

"And you thought this was a good idea because no one would ever think of trying to get away if he knew he was digging his own grave? You two fucking idiots take stupid to a whole new level," Big Tony said.

"It was the ants," Slim said.

"The aunts? What the fuck are you talking about?" Big Tong shouted.

"I was watching him and being careful to stay far enough away from him to make sure he couldn't attack me with the shovel when I was attacked by the ants," Slim said.

"Attacked by the aunts? Who's aunts and how did they get there? Are we going to have to kill his aunts now?" Big Tony shouted.

"Not his aunts, Boss, red ants. I stepped on a fuckin ant hill and thousands of the little fuckers attacked me. Look at my fuckin leg. It's still hurtin like a motha fucka."

"He got away because you stepped on and ant hill? " Big Tony said. "What the fuck were you doing while this dip shit was playing with the ants?"

"Well, I ..."

"He was sittin under a fuckin tree eatin a candy bar," Slim said.

"Jesus Christ, between the two of you, you don't have a whole fuckin brain to share."

"Sorry Boss," Porky said. "We tried to do it right but things just got fucked up."

Slim said. "If Blanchard tries to turn himself in are you going to have Meatball and Guy pop him right there at the cop house?"

"Is that what you would do, Bean?" This from a fourth voice I hadn't heard before. This person had a British accent.

"I don't know Bagger. I just do what you guys tell me to do," Slim said.

"You do? Doesn't sound that way to me," Bagger said. "When Meatball was down here a few months ago he managed to find a couple of the local constabulary who were quite willing to assist us for a few bob," Bagger said.

"What did he say?" Slim asked.

"We have two Riverton cops on the pad," Big Tony explained. "They will let us know if Blanchard tries to turn himself in. They're well paid and will help us make sure that Blanchard doesn't survive long enough to say anything."

"How we gonna do that?" Slim asked.

"Blanchard already tried to shoot one cop didn't he?" Big Tony said.

"No that was me..."

"But the cops think he did it, right?"

"Oh, right."

"The good news is that the police consider Blanchard to be armed and dangerous. If our two boys do their job, Blanchard will be found dead with a gun in his hand before he ever gets to the police station," Big Tony said. "Meatball has a police scanner and will let us know if the cops find Blanchard but I would rather we find him first and bury the asshole like we planned. If they never find him they will believe that he killed his wife and ran off after shooting that detective."

"But that bitch ain't dead," Slim said.

"She will be. We got eyes in the hospital too. If she shows signs of coming out of her coma she will be taken care of."

The realization that Holly wasn't safe in the hospital hit me hard. I had to find a way to protect Holly but how could I? On one side I have the police who think I tried to kill my wife and Detective Olson. They consider me to be armed and dangerous so they will be prepared to shoot me on sight. On the other side I have Big Tony and his friends that by my count totaled six. There were the four that were sitting upstairs and the two watching the police station. On top of that two of Riverton's finest are on Big Tony's payroll and would gladly kill me if they got a chance to.

"What did you do with the asshole's car?" Big Tony asked?

"It's in the barn," Porky said.

"Make sure it stays locked up in the barn for now. We will need to find a way to sneak it out of town. Maybe rent a car hauler from U-Haul and tow it down to St. Louis and leave it on the street with the keys in it," Big Tony said.

"What do you want us to do now Boss?" Porky asked.

"Can I go to the firkin hospital? I think I have some broken bones in my hand and my fucking leg feels like it is on fire." Slim said.

"Pug, you take Bean to that emergency treatment center we saw on the way into town. I don't want you guys anywhere near the hospital. When you are done there I want the two of you to go sit on Blanchard's house."

"Won't the house be crawling with cops?" Porky said.

"They should all be gone by now. Just park somewhere near the house and watch just in case Blanchard tries to go back to the house," Big Tony said.

"Why would he go back to the house?" Slim asked. "Wouldn't the cops be watching the house?"

"Where else can he go?"

"How long should we stay there?" Porky asked.

"Till I call ya and tell ya to leave. Can you handle that?"

"Yea Boss."

Bagger and I are going to watch the hospital in case Blanchard tries to sneak in and see his wife. Okay let's move. I don't want that bastard getting away while we're sitting her with our thumbs up our asses."

I could hear them moving around upstairs and then the light went out and I heard a door open and close and then there was silence. 

Chapter 10 – Diversion

When I heard the door upstairs close I crept up to the top of the stairs and pressed my ear against the door. Hearing nothing I tried the door and it opened into the kitchen. I quickly searched the house but I couldn't find anything that would help me. 

I left the house through the back door and ran down to the barn hoping to find my car unlocked with the keys inside. No luck there. The car was locked and the keys were gone.

I sat down on the floor of the barn and reviewed my options. I could still go to a neighbor's house and ask them to call the police for me. I decided against that because I was afraid that the cops that came to get me would be the ones that Big Tony had on his payroll. I couldn't go to my house because Slim and Porky would be waiting for me there. I was tired and hungry and was having trouble thinking straight. I needed food and that would be safe for me. The best thing for me to do would be to get out of town but I had no transportation. Then an idea began to form in my mind. I wasn't sure if it was a good idea but I felt better just having a plan of action. Doing something was much better than doing nothing. 

It was 9:30 PM when I left the barn and turned down the old farm road and headed back the way I had come. I passed the point where I had come out of the woods earlier in the evening and a few hundred yards later passed under the Union Pacific railroad tracks. At the end of the farm road I climbed over the rusty old gate and walked out onto Rayburn Road and turned right. 

A half mile down the road Rayburn intersected Commerce Road and I turned left on Commerce. Commerce Road was home to some local construction companies and trucking companies. Both sides of the road were lined with large garages and warehouses. There were no people around at that time of night but there were security lights and cameras so I had to be careful. Two blocks farther down Commerce Road intersected Industrial Drive and that is where I was headed. 

I approached the intersection carefully, staying in the shadows and listening for cars. There was a large oak tree on the north-west corner and I stood behind it as I looked both ways on Industrial. It was a good thing I looked because as I peeked out from behind the tree I saw a Riverton Police car coming toward me on Industrial Drive. My heart was pounding as I prayed that I hadn't been seen when I peeked out from behind the tree. I pressed my body against the tree and waited, holding my breath, until the police cruiser was completely out of sight. When I felt it was safe to cross Industrial Drive I ran diagonally across the intersection and hid behind a U-Haul truck in the parking lot of Riverton Secure Self Storage. 

From my hiding place I looked for any movement on either Industrial Drive or Commerce Road. Seeing none, I turned my attention to the security gate for the Riverton Secure Self Storage facility only twenty yards away place. I didn't feel that the security camera above the gate would be a problem. Renters are allowed access to their storage units twenty-four hours a day, so as long as I didn't show my face to the camera I wouldn't have any problems going through the gate. I made another check to be sure that the patrol car was not coming back and then I hurried over to the gate and punched in the access code. 

Riverton Secure Self Storage has ten rows of storage units of various sizes. Luckily, my brother's storage unit was in the second row facing away from the road, out of sight of passing cars. I removed the combination lock from Jack's unit and raised the door just enough so that I could slip under it. I closed the door again before flipping the switch for the single sixty watt light bulb that was the only source of light for the twelve by twenty foot unit.

I worked my way around the stacks of boxes and stored furniture to the back of the dimly lit storage unit. Along the back wall I found Jack's leather sofa which was covered by an old bed sheet. Exhausted from my ordeal, I collapsed onto the sofa and closed my eyes, hoping for a few minutes rest before tackling what I needed to do next. There was no chance of falling asleep as I wondered and worried how this was all going to work out. Was I going to end up dead, buried in a shallow grave on top of Parker's Hill? Who would protect Holly if they killed me? Or, would I somehow manage to save us both? With Big Tony and his goons and the police all looking for me, the odds were not in my favor. Suddenly my body began to shiver and the more I thought about my situation the worse the tremors got. I began to shake so uncontrollably that my joints started to ache. It took me several minutes to get the tremors under control and slow my heart rate down. 

Realizing that if I didn't begin to act soon I might have a complete meltdown, I forced myself to get up off the sofa and begin executing my plan. I opened my brother's wardrobe cabinet and looked through the clothes he left behind and found everything I needed. Jack and I are about the same size so his clothes fit me. I striped off my sweaty clothes and put on clean underwear, a pair of Levi's and a blue tee shirt. I would have liked to take a shower first but that wasn't an option. 

I found one of Jack's backpacks and filled it with another change of clothes. From a small drawer in the wardrobe I retrieved Jack's motorcycle registration, his Missouri driver's license and the keys to the bike and put them in my pocket. Next I put on Jack's riding leathers, boots and helmet and then slipped my arms through the straps on the backpack. Knowing that helmet would hide my face and doubting that anyone would expect me to be riding a motorcycle I felt that I would be safe going back out onto the street. I moved to the front of the storage unit and turned off the light before lifting the door just high enough for me peek out. Seeing no one in the alley outside, I opened the door the rest of the way and rolled Jack's Honda ST 1300 into the alley and then locked up the storage unit. I hadn't used the bike in a several weeks but it started with no hesitation. The fuel tank was nearly empty, so my first stop was at the Exxon station on the corner of Industrial Drive and Iowa Street. I kept my helmet on, paid cash and didn't do anything to draw attention to myself. 




Riverton Pt. 02



It was time to put the police and Big Tony off my sent. I assumed that at some point the police and through them, Big Tony would try tracking my movements by watching for any activity on my ATM or credit cards. If and when they did, I wanted it to appear that I was headed away from Riverton. 

When I left the Exxon station I went west on Industrial and then took route sixty-one south. I drove about 50 miles to Hannibal, Missouri. In Hannibal I found an ATM and withdrew four hundred dollars from my savings account. Then I went to the Golden Corral Buffet. I parked my bike behind the restaurant where I wouldn't be seen and I took off my leathers and locked them in the saddle bags with my helmet. I didn't want anyone in the restaurant to notice that I had arrived on a motorcycle. 

I paid for my meal with my credit card and after I ate I went across the street to the Econo Lodge Motel and registered under my own name, using my credit card to pay for one night. I went to the room, turned on the television and messed up the bed so it would look like it had been slept in. Then I left the room key on the bed side table, got on my bike and headed back north on Route 61, stopping at the Tic Toc Motel near Taylor, Missouri. There I registered under my brother's name, using Jack's Missouri driver's license for identification and paid cash for the room. Once in my room I laid down on the bed to think about my next move but fell asleep before I could make any plans.

End Part Two



Riverton Pt. 03



Chapter 11- Thursday June 12 11:00 AM

It was almost eleven o'clock when I woke up the following morning. After a long shower I took the advice of the motel clerk and went back down to route 6 to the Eighteen Wheeler Restaurant to eat. The food was good and there was plenty of it. While I was eating I was able relaxed for the first time since this all started. This gave me the opportunity to clearly consider my options. I could try to turn myself into the police but I didn't know who on the Riverton Police Force I could trust. I thought about possibly turning myself into the Missouri State Police, but if I couldn't get them to believe my story they would just turn me over to the Riverton Police. The main reason for deciding not to go to the police was that I needed to find a way to protect Holly and I couldn't do that if I was dead or in jail.

I finally concluded that my only hope to clear my name and save Holly was to find a way to connect Big Tony and his gang to Holly's shooting and the attempt on Detective Olson's life. The idea came to me while I was thinking about what I had overheard the previous night at the farmhouse. The solution to my problem was the Sony ICD voice recorder I had purchased for work a few months earlier. If I could have recorded Big Tony and his men talking about what they had done or were planning to do, I would have had all of the proof I needed. 

The recorder was small enough to fit in my pocket and powerful enough that when I set it on my conference room table I could record everything that was said during my staff meetings. It's capability of recording continuously for 280 hours made it ideal for what I was planning. The problem was that the recorder was in my briefcase, which was sitting in my house. Porky and Slim might still be watching the house and there was the possibility that the police might also be watching. My hope was that the police had been alerted to my banking and credit card activity down in Hannibal and would believe that I had left town. That should make them lose interest in my house. I was pretty sure that if the police thought that I had left town Big Tony would find that out from his sources in the police department. 

I hung around Taylor until about three o'clock in the afternoon before starting back toward Riverton. I took my time on the ride and arrived in Riverton shortly after four o'clock. Once I got to town I turned west on Fifth Street Road and drove until I reached the Union Pacific railroad tracks. From there I drove slowly alongside the tracks until I was directly behind my house. I was about to do something that I had done many times when I was in high school. I used to sneak out of the house at night to meet up with my friends and then I would have to sneak back in when I went home. I was always afraid that my father would be waiting for me when I got home but I had never been as scared as I was at that moment. Between the tracks and the house was a large field overgrown with weeds and brush. Just like when I was in high school, I was going to crawl up through the field and sneak into my house. I was pretty sure I could get to the house without being seen but I wasn't sure what I might find waiting for me once I got inside.

I drove the bike up off the tracks into the field about twenty yards and laid it down. The house was still more than a hundred yards away but I sat down behind a clump of bushes and watched the house. When, after twenty minutes I saw no sign of activity I started moving up through the tall weeds and brush stopping occasionally to look for any sign that I was being watched. At the end of the field, twenty-five yards short of the house, I squatted down behind a large Forsythia bush and thought about my next move. From my hiding place I could see the police tape on the back door that leads into the kitchen. It was just inside that door that Holly had been lying in a pool of her own blood. I wasn't about to cut through the police tape and go in that way and I couldn't risk being seen going around to the front of the house and using the front door. I was left with only one option and that was to enter through the basement.

Most of the houses in my neighborhood were built in the mid-fifties and were constructed on concrete slabs. My house however, was the only house in the neighborhood with a basement. The man who built the house had an over whelming fear of two things; nuclear war and tornados so he built a basement that was a combination fallout shelter and storm cellar under the house. When my father bought the house he converted the basement into a game room complete with television and a pool table. 

There are only two ways into and out of the basement. There is a door hidden inside the kitchen pantry that opens to a flight of stairs going down to steel door that opens into the basement and then there is an outside entrance on the north side of the house. There is a storm door that you have to lift up to get access to the stairs leading down to the entrance. The basement is completely below ground level and except for the door that covers the stairs to the side entrance, it can't be seen from outside the house. 

After one last look around I ran the last twenty five yards to the house and retrieved the keys to the storm door and the basement door from their hiding place behind the left shutter on the living room window. After removing the padlock I lifted the heavy steel storm door and lowered it again behind me as I descended the stairs. With the storm door closed I was in complete darkness and had to feel my way down the last three steps and over to the basement door. With no light in the cellar way to help me locate the door lock it took me several minutes to insert the key into the lock and open the door. 

Still in complete darkness, I moved slowly into the room until I bumped into the pool table. Visualizing the layout of the room and using the edge of the pool table as a guild I moved around the pool table until I was roughly opposite from where I had started. I moved away from the table, shuffling my feel and using my hands to feel for obstructions until I reached the wall. Moving along the wall to my right, using my hands to guide me I found the light switch. I turned the lights on and then flipped the switch on the intercom.

With the lights on I was able to relax for a moment. I sat down on the sofa in front of the television and took a few deep breaths. I knew that I was secure in this room. If anyone was upstairs they would not have been able to hear me moving around in the basement but with the intercom turned on I would be able to hear anyone moving around upstairs.  

I spent the next ten minutes sitting quietly and listening for any sounds from the intercom that would indicate that someone was upstairs.

When I decided that the silence on the main floor of the house was just as deafening as the silence in the basement I headed upstairs. I hesitated in the pantry for a minute before stepping out into the kitchen. There was slight metallic or coppery smell and the pool of Holly's congealed blood on the floor made my stomach turn. I wasn't sure I would be able make it out of the kitchen without vomiting. I turned my head away from the sickening sight and put my hand over my mouth and nose. Then, holding my breath I move quickly to my left and around the corner and out into the living room.

I wanted to sit and let my stomach settle down for a minute but I forced myself to keep moving. I went to my study, which was in the front of the house just inside the front door. I peeked carefully through the curtains and to my relief I saw no cars within two hundred yards of the house. Turning from the windows I notice that my briefcase wasn't where it should have been. I always put my briefcase on the floor on the right side of my desk when I got home from work but it wasn't there. It felt as if an icy fist was squeezing my spine as panic began to take control of my thinking. Where was my briefcase? Had the police taken it? I tried to think but I couldn't seem to concentrate. 

Finally, sitting at my desk, I took a few deep breaths and managed to calm myself. I reviewed everything that happened on Tuesday from the time I left work until I found Holly on the floor in the kitchen. Then it came to me. I hadn't brought my briefcase into the study. I dropped it and the bag from JC Penney's on the sofa in the living room before I went into the kitchen and found Holly.

I sprang from the chair and ran to the living room but the briefcase wasn't there. The bag from Penney's was also missing. The panic I was feeling a couple of minutes earlier was back. Now I was sure the police had the briefcase. I started walking around the house with no real objective in mind when I saw it. My briefcase was sitting opened on the dining room table. I was almost afraid to look inside because I wasn't sure if I could handle it if my recorder wasn't in the briefcase. It was. 

Over the next half hour I fixed myself a cheese sandwich and got a bottle of diet Pepsi from the refrigerator. I ate it in my study while watching out the window for police cars or any other cars that didn't belong in the neighborhood. After eating I put a new battery in my recorder and then slipped it into my pocket. I also grabbed a small flashlight from my desk drawer before returning to the basement, leaving the house the way I had entered and locking the doors behind me. 

Chapter 12 - Thursday June 12, 5:30 PM

I retrieved the bike and rode back along the tracks to Fifth Street Road and then headed toward town. I turned on Industrial Drive and then onto Commerce Road and eventually ended up on Rayburn Road. When I found the fence gate where I had exited the Cheswick property the night before, I stopped and walked the bike through the partially opened gate. I rolled the bike up behind some bushes where it wouldn't be seen from any cars that might come along on Rayburn Road and then I stashed the helmet and riding leathers with the bike and started walking toward the Cheswick house. 

When the house was in sight I could see that there were no cars in the driveway. I moved off the farm road so that the barn was between the house and me. When I got to the barn I peeked in the window and saw that my Mustang was the only car in the barn. I was reasonably certain that no one was in the house but I tied to say out of sight as much as possible as I approached the house. When I got to the back of the house I hide behind the propane tank for a minute while I listened for any sound that would indicate that someone was in the house. Hearing nothing I moved over to the door for the old coal chute and lowered myself into the cellar the way I had the previous night. Again I listened for any sounds in the house but heard only the sound of my own breathing. 

Using the flashlight I was able to find my way out of the coal bin and up the cellar stairs in less than a minute. I paused again at the kitchen door and listened to the empty house. Hearing nothing, I pushed the kitchen door open slowly and peek inside. The room was empty. Well not actually empty. There were no people in the room but the sink was full of dirty dishes and the table was covered with empty beer bottles and full ashtrays. Once inside kitchen I started looking for a good place to hide my recorder. I had to be sure that I wouldn't miss any of their conversations. I found the perfect place above the kitchen window. The window had venetian blinds and curtains. Standing on a chair I was able to place the recorder on top of the venetian blinds and hide it behind the ruffle on the top of the curtains. With the recorder in place and turned on I walked around the room talking and then listened to what I had recorded. It was perfect. The recorder picked up everything. I erased what I had recorded and then set the recorder for voice activation and placed it back on top of the blinds. After checking once more to make sure it couldn't be seen I headed for the back door. 

My plan up to that point was working. My problem was that I didn't know how I was going to be able to retrieve the recorder. I had decided that I would watch the house from behind the barn until Big Tony and his guys showed up at the farm house and then I would have to look for an opportunity to go back into the house to get the recorder. Worst case, I would call Detective Olson and try to convince him over the phone that he should go to the farm house and question Big Tony and his men. I figured I could trust Olson because if he was one of the cops Big Tony was paying something would have been said about it after Porky shot him. 

As weak as my plan was it never had a chance. I was just about to open the back door when a black Lincoln Town Car came down the driveway followed by the red Camry and a white Ford Torus. I ran across the kitchen to the cellar door. I think I actually only touched two steps on my way down the stairs to the cellar. Once again I took my position under the cellar stairs so I could hear what was going on upstairs. 

In the silence before they entered the house I could hear my own heart beating in my chest. Moments later I heard several people coming into the house but no one was talking. It wasn't until after I heard the door close that anyone spoke.

"So what do we do now Boss?" This was a voice that I hadn't heard the last time I was in the cellar. "The cops don't know where he is, so how we gonna find him?" 

"We sit tight. Maybe those numb nuts cops will find him. Either way that bitch dies tonight. Tomorrow Bean, you and Pug will take Blanchard's car down to St. Louis and dump it somewhere. "

"How ya gonna do her widout them come lookin for us?" Sounded like Porky.

"We got a guy, a nurse, on night shift at the hospital. He's gonna pay her a little visit around three o'clock in the morning and give her a shot of insulin. Nobody will notice because she is already in a coma. She'll be dead before morning and it will look like she died from her injuries."

The feeling of panic was back. Suddenly, my only option was to call Olson before they had a chance to kill Holly but there was no way I could get out of the house during daylight with all of them sitting upstairs. I was going to have to wait until dark before I could do anything. So I just sat and listened, hoping that my recorder was getting everything they said.

"What if they do one of them autopsy things on her?' I think it was Slim talking. "Won't they find out about the insulin?"

"Maybe, but we'll be long away from here before that happens," Digger said. Our friend in the hospital is going to drop Blanchard's cell phone under her bed. Make it look like Blanchard paid her a visit. If they discover the insulin in her system the coppers will think Blanchard went to the hospital to finish the job."

"Oh, right. Good plan." Porky said.

"I am so glad you approve since it's your fault we're still here. If you and Bean hadn't fucked things up in the first place we would be back home by now," Big Tony said. 

"Bean?"

"Yeah Boss."

"I want you to go into town and get some Chinese food," Big Tony said.

"Can't we have it delivered?" 

"What, are you fuckin brain dead? Nobody knows we're here and I want to keep it that way."

Once Slim left to get their food the conversation changed to subjects not important to me so I tuned them out while I tried to plan my escape. With the gang chatting away upstairs I felt safe to explore the cellar. Using the flash light I brought from my house I searched to see if there was an easy way to get out. After a quick look around it was obvious that there were only two ways to get out of the cellar. Go upstairs through the kitchen, which would be suicide or climb back out through the coal chute door. 

The coal chute presented its own problems for me. The bottom edge of the chute was a little over two feet above my head, which meant that I couldn't just open the door and crawl out. The chute door opened inward so even if I could pull myself up onto the ledge I wouldn't be able to open the door. I needed to stand on something so that I could reach the chute door. 

I began another search of the cellar. In the far corner on the opposite side of the cellar I found an old wooden crate that looked as though it would suit my purpose. I brought the crate over to the coal bin and set it on the floor below the coal chute. I carefully put one foot on the crate and slowly lifted my weight onto it to make sure it would not break when I attempted to climb out of the cellar. The crate was strong enough to support me and I was able to reach the chute door. 

When I was standing on the crate I noticed another problem. There were two pipes that ran parallel to the coal chute and were hanging from the floor joists about a foot out from the opening. One was a one inch galvanized pipe and the other was a one inch flexible pipe. I figured the galvanized pipe was the water supply and that the flexible pipe was probably a conduit for the electrical wires. The pipes hadn't been in my way the two times I came in through the coal chute but I thought that they might be a problem on my way out. I would have to be careful not to bump or kick the pipes because the noise would probably be heard upstairs.

I had my escape plan, now all I had to do was wait until dark. It was almost six o'clock so I had about another three and a half hours before it would be dark enough outside for me to attempt my escape.

Chapter 13 - Thursday June 12, 9:35 PM 

For more than three hours I sat on the cellar floor under the stairs and listened to Big Tony and the other scum bags talk. Bean had returned with the food and I could smell it in the cellar. If my recorder was doing its job I would not only have proof of my innocence but proof of other crimes Big Tony had committed. I heard Digger tell a story of how he and Big Tony shot two guys from another mob gang and dumped their bodies in a swamp a few miles south of the Meadowlands Sports Complex in New Jersey. If I lived long enough to get the recording to the police, Big Tony and his boys would be in a world of shit.

I spent a good bit of my time in the cellar trying to figure out why these assholes wanted Holly and me dead. I had never heard of Big Tony or any of the others before so what possible reason could they have to kill us? In all of the conversations I overheard, not once did I hear anything that would explain their murderous intentions toward us.

At 9:35 PM I decided it was time to make my move. I knew it wouldn't be as dark as I would like, but with the lights on in the house it should be dark enough outside that they wouldn't be able to see me running through the back yard. I hoped.

When I stepped onto the wooden create my heart was pounding so hard I was sure it could be heard by the criminal brain trust sitting in the room above me. I tried to calm my nerves by taking several deep breaths but only succeeded in making myself dizzy and I nearly feel off the crate. When the dizzy spell passed I lifted the chute door with my left hand and held it opened far enough so that I could get my head and shoulders under the door. I had to let the door drop down onto my back so that I could pull myself through the opening. I had managed to pull myself halfway out of the chute when my forward progress was stopped. The chute door had closed down against the back of my legs and the more I tried to move forward the more it cut into my legs. It was like being stuck in a Chinese finger trap. I began to panic when I thought that I heard someone open the back door and an image of Big Tony and the boys standing over me as I lay trapped halfway out of the chute opening flashed through my mind. I held my breath and waited but no one came out of the house.

It finally came to me that in order to free myself, I needed to move backward a short distance. It turned out that moving back just a few inches was all that was needed to release the pressure on my legs. With the door no longer biting into my legs I slowly rolled over onto my back. From that position I was able to use my left knee to push the door up so it wouldn't trap me again but lying on my back presented a new problem. There was nothing I could grab hold of with my hands to pull myself the rest of the way out of the chute. I remembered the two pipes just inside the chute opening and started searching for them with my right foot. When I found what I believed to be the water pipe I lifted the door with my left knee and then pushed against the pipe as hard as I could with my right leg. As I propelled myself out of the chute opening I felt the pipe break loose. The door had swung closed behind me so I couldn't see what had happened but I could hear a fairly loud hissing noise coming from inside the cellar. 




Riverton Pt. 03



I assumed that I had cracked a joint in the water pipe and it was spraying water into the cellar but I didn't have time to worry about that. I had to get away from there before someone in the house heard the noise and came to investigate. 

Moving as quietly as I could I ran parallel to the back of the house until I crossed the driveway and then I turned and ran toward the barn. I stayed as low to make it difficult for anyone looking out a window to see me. About halfway to the barn I ducked behind some bushes and looked back toward the house. I sat for a couple of minutes watching the windows and the back door for any signs of activity. Nobody came outside and I didn't see anyone looking out a window. Apparently, they had not heard the noise when the pipe broke or the hissing sound of the water spraying from it. 

I began to move again, slowly, keeping to the shadows and using bushes along the way to provide cover. I made it past the barn and had gone about another two hundred yards when suddenly the whole area was lit up like day light but before any possible meaning for the bright light could register in my brain I was flying through the air. I landed face down in the weeds about twenty-five feet from where I had been and the only thing I could hear was a loud ringing noise in my ears. When I lifted my head I saw flaming objects falling around me but could not fathom what that meant. I rolled over and looked back toward the farm house but it wasn't there. All that was left was part of the foundation. The rest of the house seemed to be falling in burning pieces from the sky. 

I watched in amazement, while my brain tried to make sense out of what had happened. The house was completely gone, the Lincoln Town Car and the Camry were both on fire and the Ford was tipped on its side. Looking at the devastation I just knew that there was no way anyone in that house could have survived an explosion of that magnitude. That's when the revelation came to me. I hadn't broken a water pipe with my foot; I broke a gas line. The hissing sound I heard as I escaped wasn't water spraying out of a broken pipe; it was the sound of propane gas escaping into the cellar. The propane being heavier than air would have pooled in the cellar until something triggered an explosion. All that propane just blew the house right off its foundation. 

When I got to my feet I was dizzy and I felt aches and pains all over my body but I didn't seem to have suffered any serious injuries. My first instinct was to start walking back toward the house but I only moved a few steps before I realized that was the last place I needed to go. If I were caught in the area when the police arrived on the scene they would assume that I had blown the house up on purpose and was responsible for the deaths of everyone inside the house. To make matters worse, the evidence that would prove I didn't shoot Holly or Detective Olson I hoped was captured on my voice recorder had been blown away with Big Tony and his thugs. 

"I'm fucked," I said to myself as I took one more look at the remains of the house and then I started to run and didn't stop until I got to the motorcycle. I put on the leathers, pulled the bike up and rolled it back through the gate out onto Rayburn Road. I drove cautiously back to the Riverton Secure Self Storage facility and let myself into my brother's storage unit. I could hear sirens in the distance as I lowered the door on the unit.

With the door closed I turned on the light and took off my leathers. I checked myself out in the wardrobe mirror. I was a mess. My face was filthy and I had several small cuts and scrapes on my and back and on the back of my legs and arms. Until then I didn't even realize that I had been hit by debris from the explosion. I was going to have to clean myself up before I did anything else. As much as I hated the idea I had to go back out to buy some supplies. 

I got back on the bike and drove to a convenience store on Dublin Street and bought a twelve pack of bottled water, a roll of paper towels, bandages, peroxide, a topical antibiotic ointment and a bar of soap. When I got back to the storage unit I cleaned myself up as best I could with soap and water and then cleaned my cuts and scrapes with peroxide. None of the cuts were serious and they had already stopped bleeding. I put the antibiotic ointment on all of my injuries and bandaged the worst of the cuts. 

I dressed in a clean pair of Jack's jeans and a long sleeve shirt from his wardrobe and then sat down to plan my next move. I couldn't go to the police station because I didn't know who I could trust. The more I thought about it the more I realized that my only option was to go to Detective Olson and tell him my story and hope that he would believe me. 

Chapter 14 - Thursday June 12, 10:25 PM 

Wearing a ball cap pulled low to hide my face, I walked from the storage facility back to the convenience store on Dublin Street and asked the clerk if I could use his phone book. I looked up the address for David Olson and then used the pay phone outside to call a taxi. 

When the taxi dropped my off in front of Detective Olson's house I could feel the sweat dripping from my arm pits and running down my sides. I was thankful to see that there were lights on in the house as I stepped up onto the front porch. I took a deep breath and slowly let it out before pressing the door bell.

I was just about to ring the bell a second time when the porch light came on and a few seconds later the door opened. Standing in front of me was an attractive middle aged woman.

"What do you want?" she asked in a less than friendly manor.

"I am sorry to bother you at this hour but I need to speak with Detective Olson if he's here."

"Who should I say is here to see him?"

"Just tell him I am here to talk to him about the Holly Blanchard case."

The woman, whom I guessed was Mrs. Olson, closed the door and went back into the house. About a minute later the door opened again and I found myself staring at the barrel of Detective Olson's gun.

"What the hell are you doing coming to my house?" Olson said.

"I am here to turn myself in to you but I need to talk to you before you take me to the police station."

"Why should I listen to anything you have to say?"

"Because I didn't shoot my wife and I didn't shoot you and you need to know who did."

Olson pointed with the gun to indicate that I should come into the house. As soon as I stepped through the door he pushed me up against the wall and searched me. 

"What's going on Dave?" It was the woman's voice coming from another room.

"It's just someone I need to talk to," Olson said. "Why don't you go up to bed? I am going to have to go down to the station after I talk with him. I probably won't be coming to bed tonight."

Detective Olson led me into his kitchen and told me to sit at the table. 

"So, what is so important that you had to come here instead of going to the station to turn yourself in?"

I told Detective Olson the story, starting from the time I arrived at the Riverton Diner up until I arrived at his house. Actually, I didn't tell him everything exactly as it happened. My story was totally true and accurate up until I got to what happened on top of Parker's Hill. At that point I began to embellish the story. 

"While Slim was watching me dig my own grave Porky told me that he and Slim were supposed to kill Holly and me and make it look like a murder suicide. He said that didn't work because I didn't come home when I was supposed to. He said that their boss, a guy they called Big Tony, paid off two Riverton police officers to help them make sure I don't live long enough to stand trial for shooting Holly. Then this Big Tony paid a male nurse at the hospital to give Holly an overdose injection of insulin sometime later tonight," I said. "Then, while I was looking for an opportunity to hit Slim with the shovel he stepped on a fire ant hill. When the ants attacked him I was able to knock the gun out of his hand with the shovel and make it into the woods on the backside of the hill.

"I hid out in the woods until dark and then went to my brother's storage unit at the Riverton Secure Self Storage. I changed clothes there and took my brother's motorcycle and drove down to Hannibal and checked into a motel so I could think about what I should do and get some sleep."

"I came back to Riverton tonight and hid out in my brother's storage unit until late this evening. Then I called a cab from the convenience store on Dublin Street and came over here." 

I made no mention of having been at the Cheswick Farm. I did not want to be connected with the explosion that destroyed the house and most likely killed everyone inside. 

Detective Olson, for his part, listened intently and took lots of notes. He asked several questions to clarify certain parts of my story but he gave me no indication of whether or not he believed what I was telling him. It was nearly midnight and I thought Detective Olson was through questioning me when he hit me with a question I was not expecting.

"How do you explain this?' he said. "The gun we found hidden in your garage was the gun used to shoot your wife and the only finger prints on the gun were yours."

I was stunned. "I don't own a gun and I didn't shoot my wife," I said. "I have no idea where that gun came from and I sure as hell don't know how my fingerprints could have gotten on it."

Detective Olson didn't comment on my answer he just said that he needed to call his partner. 

"Can your partner be trusted?"I asked. 

"Absolutely," was all he said.

Detective Olson used his cell phone to make the call.

"Hi Sarah, sorry to bother you this late but I need to talk to Bob.

"Have him call me when he gets out of the shower... Thanks Sarah.

"I had to sit through what seemed like an interminable five minutes of silence before Detective Olson's cell phone rang.

"Hey Bob. Thanks for returning my call so quickly.

"I need you to come over to the house.

"Rather not say right now.

"Okay thanks, I'll see you in ten minutes."

After that Detective Olson went out into the hallway and made a second call but I couldn't hear any of that conversation. When Detective Olson returned to the kitchen he said, "I am going to make a pot of coffee. It's going to be a long night."

I hoped that his not taking me to the police station meant that he was taking my story about the two cops on Big Tony's payroll seriously. 

Chapter 15 - Friday June 13, 12:30 AM 

It was almost 12:30 when there was a knock on the kitchen door. Detective Olson opened the door and admitted a tall thin man, about thirty years old. 

"This is Detective Robert Barron." Detective Olson said. "Bob, this is Tom Blanchard."

"Coffee, Bob?" 

"Sure," Detective Barron said. "Isn't he the guy that shot you in the parking lot at the diner?"

"He says no but I want you to hear the story from him."

Detective Olson looked at me. "Coffee?"

I nodded my head.

While he was pouring the coffee, Detective Olson explained to Detective Barron that I came to his house to give myself up because I had reason to believe that two Riverton police officers were being paid to make sure I would not live long enough to go to trial for shooting my wife. 

"Mr. Blanchard I want you to tell Detective Barron your story starting from when you left work on Tuesday up until you arrived at my house tonight."

"What about Holly?" I said. "Someone needs to protect her tonight."

"That's been taken care of," Olson said. "Start at the beginning and tell Detective Barron everything."

"You want me to go all of the way back to when I left work on Tuesday?"

"Yes. I wasn't initially involved in this case, so I need to be brought up to speed." Detective Barron said. "Be as specific as you can with times and places."

So, I told my story again starting when I left work and was most of the way home when I remembered that I was supposed to pick up Holly's order at JC Penney's. I told him about what I found when I got home. I described in as much detail as I could, what happened in the parking lot at the Riverton Diner. I was very careful telling him what happened on Parker's Hill so that my story didn't differ from what I had told Detective Olson earlier. 

Detective Barron listened intently to my story, often asking a question to clarify something I said. When I was done, detectives Barron and Olson stepped out into the hallway that led from the kitchen to the front of the house. 

"You're not buying his story are you?" Detective Barron said. "A tall skinny guy called Slim and a short fat guy called Porky working for a guy they called Big Tony, plotted to kill his wife and him? But he has no idea why this Big Tony wants them dead. His story sounds like the plot from a cheap gangster movie from the fifties. 

"The gun that was used to shoot his wife was found in his garage and it had his finger prints on it. On top of that you are an eyewitness in his attempt to shoot you. Let's just book this guy and get some sleep."

"I know the story is hard to believe but there are some parts of this case that bother me," detective Olson said. "First there is the gun. There was no record that Blanchard had ever owned a gun and the serial number on the one we found had been filed off. I just think that if he planned to kill his wife and he took the trouble to buy a gun on the street that he would have made sure that she was dead before he called 911. I would also think that he would have had a better plan for disposing of the gun than hiding it in his garage."

"You think the gun was planted?"

"Maybe."

"Then how did his finger prints get on the gun?"

"That I don't know," detective Olson said. "Then there was the bag from JC Penney's."

"What about it?"

"We found it on the sofa near the doorway to the kitchen. The bag contained lingerie and a receipt from the catalog department at Penney's. The time stamp on the receipt was Tuesday at 6:01 PM. We contacted the store and they verified that Mr. Blanchard picked up the order and paid with his Master Card. We have a neighbor who claims to have heard what sounded like gun shots at 6:05PM. So the time line doesn't work. He could not have gotten home from the mall in time to shoot his wife at 6:05." 

"What about him shooting you at the diner?"Detective Barron asked.

"I only really saw the first shot and it looked strange to me. I never saw Blanchard's hand come up over the top of the car. The muzzle flash appeared to come from his arm pit. The impact of the bullets hitting me knocked me off my feet and I hit my head on a curb stone when I fell. I was unconscious until the ambulance came so I didn't see anything else. So the shooting could have happened the way he said it did."

"So you believe his story?" 

"I think he might be telling the truth."

"You think the DA will buy it?"

"Fuck no. That tight ass wants to hang Blanchard. He wants to run for Mayor next year so a quick conviction would help his chances."

"You think putting a guy away for shooting his wife would help him that much?"

"No, but nailing a guy who shot a cop would." 

"We are going to have to book him you know?" Detective Barron said.

I wondered if the two detectives realized that I had heard everything they said or if they even cared. When they came back into the kitchen, Detective Olson said, "Mr. Blanchard, we are going to have to take you downtown."

On the way out of the house Detective Olson stopped at the hall closet and got a hooded sweatshirt and told me to put it on. When I had the sweatshirt on, Detective Olson handcuffed me and led me out to Detective Barron's car.

When we got to the station, Detective Olson helped me out of the car and then he pulled the hood on the sweatshirt up to cover my head. It was quiet outside as we walked across the parking lot. It seemed so peaceful after everything I had been through the last two days and what I was about to go through inside the police station.

"We will be entering through the squad room so, when we get inside, keep your head down. Don't look up, even if you think someone is talking to you do not look up. Got that?" said Detective Olson.

"Got it,' I responded. 

Going from the dark peaceful parking lot to the bright florescent lighting inside the noisy squad room made my eyes burn and my stomach roll. As Detective Olson led me across the room I heard someone say, "Hey Olson what ya got there, a fairy peeper or a flasher?" This was followed by laughter.

"Just some punk I caught him selling drugs out by the mall," Detective Olson replied. "I'm taking him upstairs to interrogate him."

The three of us crossed the squad room and got on an elevator. The elevator doors opened and Detective Olson pushed me ahead of him down a dimly lit hallway and into a dark room. Olson turned on the lights and closed the door behind us. The room was no more than ten feet by ten feet. There was a gray, vinyl top table in the middle of the room with a single chair on one side and two chairs on the opposite side. The floor and the walls of the room were almost the same color gray as the table. On one wall there was what I assumed was a two way mirror. The lone door, also gray, had a small window in it. 

Olson pulled the sweatshirt hood off my head and guided me around to the side of the table with only one chair. He removed the handcuffs and told me to sit down. I sat down facing the two way mirror on the opposite wall. The drabness of the room did nothing to relieve my anxiety. 

"Detective Barron has gone to call the District Attorney. He'll come over and you'll have to tell your story again. He'll decide if he wants to prosecute or if he wants us to investigate the story you've told us. Detective Olson and I sat without speaking for at least ten minutes until there was a soft knock on the door. I looked toward the door but couldn't see anyone through the window.

"I'll be right back," Olson said and then left me alone in the room. 

I could see Detective Olson and Detective Barron and a third man standing outside the room talking. I wondered if that was the District Attorney. How could he have gotten there so soon?

End Part Three



Riverton Pt. 04



Chapter 16 – Special Agent Kyle Van Horn

The three men talked for several minutes and then stepped back into the room.

"Mr. Blanchard this is Special Agent Kyle Van Horn from the FBI. He would like to ask you some questions," Detective Barron said.

Agent Van Horn shook hands with Detective Olson and then reached over the table and offered me his hand. "Nice to meet you Mr. Blanchard. I just wish we were meeting under better circumstances. 

"I am out here from the Philadelphia Field Office trying to track down Anthony Lombardo. Detective Barron told me that you have had some involvement with him, is that correct?"

"I don't know anyone by that name," I said.

"Maybe you know him as Big Tony."

"I know that name. I have never met the bastard but he is responsible for my wife being shot and an attempt being made on my life."

"So you have never seen Big Tony?" Agent Van Horn said. "How is it that you know his name?"

"Porky and Slim told me about him," I said.

"Who are Porky and Slim?" Agent Van Horn asked.

"They are the two idiots that shot my wife and tried to kill me."

"Why don't you tell me how it is that these men told you about Big Tony."

So I repeated my story about what happened on Parker's Hill. When I finished, Agent Van Horn opened his briefcase and pulled a folder from it. Agent Van Horn then removed several photographs from the folder and placed them face up on the table in front of me.

"Do you recognize any of these people?" Agent Van Horn asked.

I spotted Porky and Slim almost immediately and pointed them out to Van Horn. "That's the one I call Slim and that one is Porky.

Van Horn pointed to Slim and said, "This is Mike (Bean) Soriano and this fat guy is Tommy (Pug) Fazio. Do you recognize any of the others?"

As I studied the pictures I started to say that I had never seen any of the others before but stopped when something caught my eye. I stared at one of the pictures for a minute. It was a fat bald guy. I couldn't think of how I might have known him but there was something familiar about him.

"This guy," I said pointing to his picture. "I can't remember why I know him but I know him," I said. Looking at the picture I got the impression that the guy was a bit of a slob and then it came to me. "Danny DiVito," I said out loud.

"Danny DeVito the actor?" Van Horn asked.

"No. When I met this guy he reminded me a little of Danny DiVito but fatter and obviously a slob," I said.

"Where did you meet him?"

"Oh shit, that explains the finger prints on the gun," I said.

"What are you talking about?" Detective Olson asked.

"I have a part time job installing high speed internet service for the local phone company. I have to go to people's homes to do the installations. I installed this guy's Internet service."

"His name is Sammy (Meatball) DeLucia," Van Horn said.

"He was living in one of those condos on the north side of town near the river," I said. "When I went to his condo he came to the door dressed in boxer shorts and a tee shirt. Only, then he was wearing a pair of glasses with thick lenses. I remember that he was chewing on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and the jelly was running down his hand to his wrist and there was a mess of it on his shirt. 

"Anyway, when I sat down to configure his modem he had a gun sitting next to his computer keyboard. I asked him to remove the gun because I didn't feel comfortable with it being right there where I was working. He told me it wasn't loaded and then asked me to go ahead and check to make sure it wasn't loaded. He said that he didn't want to touch the gun with peanut butter and jelly on his hands. 

"I had no clue how to do that. So he stood there and told me how to eject the clip and pull the slide back to make sure the gun was empty. The clip was empty and there wasn't anything in the chamber either. I tried to hand the gun back to him but he asked me to put the clip back in and leave it on the table.

"I'll bet that was the gun they used to shoot Holly and that is how my finger prints got on the gun."

Detective Barron asked Van Horn who the other men in the photos were.

"This one is Anthony Big Tony Lombardo. He's a small time hood with big time aspirations," Van Horn said. . He runs dope, numbers, and illegal gambling in Trenton, New Jersey. 

"We have been trying to pin the killings of two rival gang members last year on him. We found their bodies in a swamp near the Meadowlands Sports complex."

I almost said, "I heard them talking about that earlier tonight." If I had said it my story would have been blown. I would have to tell them I had been in the basement of the farm house and I didn't dare tell them that.

"This one is Nigel (Bagger) Needham," Van Horn said. Bagger came over from England to avoid some legal problems he was having there. He has been in the US for about five years and he is Big Tony's number one man. 

"This is Guy Dugan. He is new to the group and so far hasn't earned a nick name."

"How long have you been after Big Tony and his gang?" Detective Olson asked.

"Just since those bodies were found last year," Van Horn said. We had an informant tell us that Bagger and Big Tony did the job themselves but we haven't been able to prove it yet."

"So, why are they here?" Detective Olson asked.

"Don't know," Van Horn said.

"I do," I said. "It's like I have been telling you, they came here to kill Holly and me and I would like to know why."

"How did you know that they were here?" Detective Olson asked.

"We've been watching them," Van Horn said. "We have their phones tapped and we even have a bug in their little social club in Trenton. This trip was never mentioned in any of the conversations we intercepted. Big Tony did make several references to some party he was planning but no one ever even hinted what that might be or where it might take place. The only lead we had was that Meatball Delucia was out here in Riverton back in March. 

"Then last week, without any hint that they were up to anything the whole gang disappeared. We might never have located them out here except that Bean used his credit card to by food in a local Chinese restaurant. We have been trying to locate them out here but we haven't had any luck finding them yet."

I almost laughed out loud. I sure as hell didn't have any trouble finding Big Tony and his associates and I could tell Agent Van Horn right where they all were at that moment but I didn't.

"Did you tell Agent Van Horn that you have two of your officers on Big Tony's payroll?" I said.

"Van Horn's head snapped around and he looked at Detective Barron. "Is that true?"

"We don't know for sure. Apparently Pug and Bean told Mr. Blanchard that Big Tony paid off a couple of officers to make sure that Mr. Blanchard never goes to trial for shooting his wife," Detective Barron said.

"Well that changes things," Van Horn said. Big Tony probably already knows that I'm here. Kind of makes this a wasted trip."

A part of me was angry that Van Horn didn't seem to care that Big Tony had come to Riverton to kill Holly and me. He was just trying to pin the murder of two other scum bags on Big Tony. The only reason I didn't go ballistic was because I was about 100% sure that Big Tony and his gang were all incinerated in the explosion at the Cheswick Farm. 

Just then Detective Barron's phone rang. The detective answered the phone and listened for a moment and then disconnected.

"WW is on the way up," Detective Barron said.

"Who's WW?" Van Horn asked.

"Walter White, our fearless DA."

Less than a minute later the DA walked into the room. There were now five people in that small room and it was getting uncomfortably warm in there.

"Detective Olson, Is this Mr. Blanchard? Why isn't he in lock up?" WW said.

"Because he didn't shoot his wife and he didn't shoot me," Detective Olson said.

WW had a sour expression on his face, obviously not happy with what Detective Olson just told him. "So, what the hell is going on here?"

The next hour was spent with me telling my story again to the DA and then Agent Van Horn explaining who Big Tony was and why the FBI was in Riverton looking for him.

We had just about finished answering all of the DA's questions when another man stuck his head in the door. I recognized him as Police Chief Harry Dodson.

"Chief, what are you doing here this time of night?" Detective Barron asked the Chief.

"I was just about to ask you that. I was called in by the Fire Marshall. There was a huge explosion and fire out on County Route 15."

"Was that the loud boom I heard a few of hours ago?" Detective Barron asked.

"Probably. It was the old Cheswick Farm. The Fire Marshall thinks that there must have been a propane leak under the house. Anyway, there is nothing left of the house. The fire department is still looking for victims," Chief Dodson said.

I let out a small sigh of relief at hearing that the Fire Marshall believed that the explosion was an accident. 

"I thought that house was empty," Detective Olson said.

"The estate agent handling the house said that she had rented the house for two months beginning four weeks ago. Said a guy named Sam DeLucia signed the lease agreement but she had no idea how many people would be staying there. 

Agent Van Horn suddenly became very animated. "Have they found any bodies?"

"Who are you?" Chief Dodson asked Van Horn.

"I am Special Agent Kyle Van Horn of the FBI."

"And what is your interest in this fire?"

"I am out here tailing some organized crime members from New Jersey and Sam DeLucia was one of them," Van Horn said.

"And just what are these New Jersey mobsters doing in Riverton?" the Chief asked.

"We don't know that yet," Van Horn said. 

"God damn it, isn't anyone listening to me?' I yelled. "They came out here to kill my wife and me."

"Who are you?" The Chief asked.

"I am Tom Blanchard."

"Oh, you're the one that tried to kill your wife and then shot Detective Olson."

"No, he didn't," Detective Olson said. 

"Then would someone explain to me what Mr. Blanchard, two of my detectives, the DA and an FBI agent are doing here at this time of night?" The Chief asked.

So, once again I told my story, and then Agent Van Horn told his.

At that point I was about out of patience. Everyone was asking questions and no one was doing anything. With six people jammed into the small space the room temperature was nearly unbearable. 

"Right now," I said loudly, "I am not very impressed with the gathered law enforcement talent in this room. I have been telling you all night that Big Tony is trying to kill me and my wife. He has paid someone at the hospital to kill Holly tonight and all the lot of you can do is stand around and marvel that none of you can find their own ass using both hands."

The DA gave me an indignant look and said, "That was uncalled for. We are all doing our best to get to the bottom of this situation."

"Bullshit, all you are concerned about is how this case will affect you run for mayor next year," I said. "Now is somebody going to tell me what you are doing to protect my wife?"

The room became very quiet for a moment.

"I have a guy watching her room," Detective Olson said. "If anyone tries to enter her room he or she will be stopped."

"Thank you," I said. 

Chapter 17 – Voices From Heaven or Most Likely Hell

The quiet time ended. The two detectives, the FBI agent, the DA and the Police Chief all started talking, each trying to speak loud enough to be heard over the others. I wanted to scream and run out the door. All I wanted to do was to get out of that room and go to the hospital to be with Holly but I couldn't even get to the door. Then to make matters worse another person entered the room.

"Oh, here you are Chief. The man looked around the crowed room and then spoke to the Chief. We have identified four bodies so far."

"Just four?" I almost said it out loud. My heart started pounding as I worried about which two of Big Tony's gang might have survived the blast. 

The Chief then introduced the new member of our crime stoppers convention to Agent Van Horn. "Agent Van Horn, this is David Green, our Fire Marshall.

"We have searched the area in and around the house or what's left of the house, and have found four bodies. We are still searching the area but it's quite dark out there and it may be morning before we know if there are any other victims. We have tentatively identified the four as: Thomas Fazio, Mike Soriano, Samuel Delucia and George Dugan all from Trenton, New Jersey."

"Then Big Tony and Bagger are still out there somewhere," Agent Van Horn said. 

"Who are they?" the Fire Marshall said. 

This time I kept my mouth shut and let Agent Van Horn tell his story.

We may still find them yet," the Fire Marshall said and then continued. "One of my men found this lying in the driveway. I think it must have been inside the house when the explosion occurred." 

I could not believe what I saw. The Fire Marshall handed the Chief my voice recorder. The one I had hidden in the kitchen at the farm house.

The chief push play and we heard voices and then he hit stop. The Chief studied the unit for a few moments and managed to figure out how to begin play from the beginning of the recording.

"Let's see what we have here," the Chief said and then pressed play and set the recorder on the table. The playback began with the sound of a door closing. I knew that was me closing the cellar door as I retreated down the stairs to get out of the Kitchen before Big Tony and his goons came into the house. Then the voices that I had become so familiar with filled the small room.

"So what do we do now Boss? The cops don't know where he is, so how we gonna find him?" 

"We sit tight. Maybe those numb nuts cops will find him. Either way that bitch dies tonight. Tomorrow Bean, you and Pug will take Blanchard's car down to St. Louis and dump it somewhere. "

"How ya gonna do her in the hospital with all them people around?" 

"We got a guy, a fuckin male nurse, on night shift at the hospital. He's gonna pay her a little visit around three o'clock in the morning and give her a shot of insulin. Nobody will notice because she is already in a coma. She'll be dead before morning and it will look like she died from her injuries."

"What if they do one of them autopsy things on her? Won't they find out about the insulin?"

"Maybe, but we'll be long away from here before that happens, "Our friend in the hospital is going to drop Blanchard's cell phone under her bed. Make it look like Blanchard paid her a visit. If they discover the insulin in her system the coppers will think Blanchard went to the hospital to finish the job."

"Oh, right. Good plan." 

"I am so glad you approve since it's your fault we're still here. If you and Bean hadn't fucked things up in the first place we would be back home by now." 

"Bean?"

"Yeah Boss."

"I want you to go into town and get some Chinese food."

"Can't we have it delivered?" 

"What, are you fuckin brain dead? Nobody knows we're here and I want to keep it that 

way."

I had heard all of that while I was hiding in the cellar. This is where the conversation changed to other unimportant topics. At that point Van Horn made the observation that all six men were in the house. Then the Chief fast forwarded a little at a time until we heard Bean return with their Chinese take-out. 

We listened to them as they ate and then Bagger told the story of how he and Big Tony had wacked two members of a rival gang. 

"Got the bastard now," Van Horn said. 

After that the conversation turned to other stories about criminal activity. Then we heard Big Tony say, "Bagger, come out front with me so we can talk in private."

The others continued telling stories until Porky said, "Did you hear that?" 

"Hear what?" sounded like Slim.

"That noise. Sounds like someone taking a shower."

"Right, who the fuck do you think is taking a shower?"

"I don't know, maybe Big Tony."

"He's with Bagger. What, you think they's in the shower together."

It seemed like it was quiet for a few minutes and then someone said, "What the fuck is that smell?"

Then there was a loud noise followed by lots of different sounds that I could not identify. After that there were all kinds of sounds. Sirens, the sounds of large trucks, voices shouting and then silence.

"Is there any way that anyone in the house could have survived that explosion?" Van Horn asked.

"No,' said the Fire Marshall. "If, like you said, there were six men in the house, the two that were missing must have gone outside before the explosion. If they were standing in the front yard below the level of the front porch they might have survived. They might also have survived if they had gone back to the barn. The barn was left intact but I don't think they would have been in the barn."

"Why?" Van Horn asked.

"There was a car inside the barn," The Fire Marshall said. "If they were in the barn when the house blew up why didn't they take the car to get away?" 

Trying to move things along I asked, "What kind of car was it?"

"It was a Mustang."

"Did you happen to see the license number?" I asked.

"It was a vanity plate. It said TECHSAN."

"That's my car," I said.

Nobody seemed to pay any attention to what I had said about the car.

"I need to get out there?" Agent Van Horn said.

"I'll go with you to show you the way," DA Walter White said.

It was obvious that the DA saw an opportunity to make himself look good. In his campaign for mayor he could talk about how he had worked with the FBI to help close a case involving organized crime.

"You can all follow me," the Fire Marshall said, "I have to go back out there anyway."

Detective Barron looked at Detective Olson and said, "I think I better go with them so they don't hurt themselves.

Now I was alone in the room with Detective Olson.

"So what happens now?" I asked.

"Well, you are free to go," he said. "I'll let everyone know you are no longer a person of interest in your wife's shooting or in mine."

"Can you get someone to give me a ride to the hospital? I need to be with my wife."

"I'll take you there myself," Detective Olson said. "I need to check on security for your wife and see how she is doing."

Chapter 18 – 3:35 AM Friday June 13

It was 3:35 in the morning when I arrived at Holly's room.

On the way out of the Police Station, Detective Olson made a call to the hospital to tell them we were coming over when he got off the phone he was smiling.

"The hospital security guys caught a male nurse going into your wife's room with a syringe and an ampule of insulin. They are holding him for me."

"Oh, thank God," I said. "That's a load off my mind."

When we got to the hospital, I headed up to Holly's room while Detective Olson went down to the hospital security office to take Holly's would be killer into custody.

When I went into the room I kissed Holly on the cheek. She didn't respond but I noticed that her eyes, while closed, were moving. They were quite active. 

I pulled a chair up next to the bed and had just sat down when someone entered the room behind me. I turned to find a doctor standing in the doorway.

"Mr. Blanchard?" I am Dr. Ravi Shah. The duty nurse called me and said that you were here."

"How is she? Any change?"

"Well Mr. Blanchard, your wife has shown some improvement. She still has not regained consciousness but we have noted some very good signs. If you look at her eyes you will see lots of eye movement. There have also been several instances of her moving her arms and legs. These are indications that she may be coming out of her coma."

"How soon will she wake up?"

"I don't know that yet," Dr. Shah said.




Riverton Pt. 04



"Are you any relation to the Dr. Shah that operated on my wife Tuesday?"

"He is my brother."

I wondered why that mattered to me. I guess I just need to talk to someone that didn't want to either arrest me or kill me.

"How long will you be staying Mr. Blanchard?"

"I will be here until someone throws me out."

"That will not happen Mr. Blanchard but be aware, there will be nurses and doctors coming in to check on Mrs. Blanchard every two hours."

"Thank you. I will try to stay out of their way."

Chapter 19 – 4:27 AM Friday June 13

I slept in the chair by Holly's bed for five minutes a time until nearly 4:30 AM. I had to relieve myself and decided to use the bathroom in Holly's room rather than go down the hall to the public rest room.

I had just finished and was about to flush the toilet when I heard a voice the made my flesh crawl.

"Here's your bird." It wasn't the words that affected me as much as it was the speaker's British accent. 

I peeked out the bathroom door but didn't see anyone and I had just about decided that I was just overtired and it was my imagination that I heard Bagger talking. I started to reach out to flush the toilet when I heard the voice again, and this time I knew it wasn't my imagination.

"Let's do this quickly and be on our way."

I looked back out the bathroom door again and watched as Bagger and Big Tony approach Holly's bed.

I quickly looked around the bathroom for a weapon but the only weapon available was a metal bedpan. I picked up the bedpan as quietly as I could and moved to the bathroom door and looked out again.

The two men were standing next to the bed staring at Holly. I started to open the door, moving slowly so I would not alert them to my presence. Just then Big Tony pulled a gun out of the waist band of his pants and pointed it at Holly's head. 

I froze. "What the hell do I do now?" I thought. There was no way I could get to him before he could shoot Holly. 

I was about to scream as loud as I could to draw Big Tony's attention away from Holly and hopefully get the attention of anyone at the nurse's station.

It was Bagger that saved me from having to do that. He grabbed Big Tony's arm and said, "You can't use that gun in here. Everyone will hear it. The coppers will be here before we can get out of the building."

Big Tony just stared at Bagger for a moment and then said, "You're right."

"Use her fuckin pillow," Bagger suggested.

As Big Tony pulled the pillow out from under Holly's head I stepped into the room behind Bagger. Holding the bedpan in both hands I swung it as hard as I could into the side of Bagger's head. Bagger fell sideways crashing into the tray table at the end of Holly's bed. Both the table and Bagger ended up on the floor. The tray table crashing to the floor made quite a racket and I hoped that it got the attention of someone at the nurse's station.  

The noise did get Big Tony's attention and when he turned and saw me he dropped the pillow and started to reach for his gun. His hand was on the grip of the gun when I managed to hit him square in the face with the bedpan.

The impact against Big Tony's head knocked the bedpan from my hands and shot it across the floor and out into the hall. Big Tony was dazed but he was still trying to pull his gun out of his pants. I had no choice but to attack so I grabbed Big Tony's shirt with both hands and pushed him backward against Holly's bed. Once I had him bent over backwards onto the bed I yanked him sideways off the bed, falling to the floor with me coming down on top of him. When we hit the floor there was an explosive noise that left my ears ringing. Big Tony had fired his gun but failed to hit me. I didn't wait to give Big Tony a chance to fire his gun again. I started beating on his head with both of my hands bouncing his head off the floor with each punch. I don't know how many times I had hit him or how long our fight had lasted. All I know is that I didn't stop until two hospital security guards pulled me off him.

When it was over, Big Tony was alive but just barely. I was surprised at how much blood there was on the floor and could not believe that I had done that much damage to him with just my fists. 

I looked around I saw Bagger laying on the floor with one of the security guards holding him down while talking into his hand held radio. 

Chapter 20 – 6:15 AM Friday June 13

I had no idea how much time had passed since I had last seen Detective Olson until I looked up at the clock in the police station. It was 6:15 AM. Detective Olson looked exhausted, which made me wonder how bad I looked. I hadn't had any real sleep since Wednesday night and my body was hurting in more places than I believed possible.

We were sitting in the squad room at Detective Olson's desk when my favorite crime fighters returned to the station. That is the DA, the Chief of Police, FBI Special Agent Van Horn and Detective Barron. 

It was obvious that DA White was upset that he had missed out on the action at the hospital. He wanted to be in on the capture of Big Tony to help further his political career but the story was going to be on the morning news and his name would not be mentioned in connection with the arrest. 

The Chief and Detective Barron didn't seem to care one way or the other. I think they were just happy that Big Tony and Bagger we captured and now they could go home.

Van Horn, on the other hand, seemed positively ecstatic. I guess he figured that with the evidence on the voice recorder gave him what he needed to put Big Tony away. What he didn't know yet was that Detective Olson planned to make sure that Riverton had first crack at Big Tony for the attempted murder of Holly and the attempts on his life and mine. I didn't think Van Horn would be very happy about that.

For the next hour I told and retold the story of what happened in Holly's hospital room.

When they were done with their questions I was told I could have my car back. It turns out that they found my car keys in Pug Fazio's pocket. The car was then brought into the police station and dusted for prints and searched for any other evidence that would help in the case against Anthony Lombardo. When they were done with the car I was given the keys. Then finally sometime around 7:30 that morning, Detective Olson offered to buy me breakfast at the Riverton Dinner.

Chapter 21 – Holly Awakens

At 2:35 PM on Friday the twentieth of June, Holly woke up from her coma. The hospital called me at work with the good news and twenty minutes later I was walking into Holly's room.

I thought for a moment that she looked confused when she saw me, as if she didn't know who I was but then her face lit up with a big smile and she held out her hand to me. After several kisses I got Holly to release my hand long enough for me to pull a chair over next to the bed. Dr. Shah came in shortly after I arrived and told us that everything looked good and he expected Holly to make a full recovery.

Holly's only remaining problem was that her memories of what happened to her were a bit cloudy and at times it seemed that she didn't understand what she was doing in the hospital. Dr. Shah said that her confusion was a side effect of the medications she had been on and that things should come into focus for her over the next few hours.

Detective Olson had left word at the hospital that he was to be called if there was any change in Holly's condition and if she might then be able to talk about what happened to her. Detective Olson walked into Holly's room shortly after five o'clock and told us that the FBI asked him to get a statement from Holly. Then Detective Olson pulled out a voice recorder and asked Holly if she felt up to answering some questions. 

"I don't know how much help I can be. My memory of what happened is foggy. It's right there," Holly said. "I can almost see it but it's like trying to stare at something in the dark. You think you can see something but if you look directly at it, it disappears. It's there and then it's gone. 

Detective Olson and I went down to the cafeteria for coffee so that Holly could rest for a while. Holly was awake when we got back to the room shortly after six o'clock. It wasn't until nearly seven o'clock that evening that it happened. Holly was resting with her eyes closed when I noticed a tear start to roll down her face. Then there were more tears followed by sobbing. "Oh God, it's all my fault," Holly wailed. Then she opened her eyes and looked at me. "I nearly got you killed."

"What are you talking about?"

"I remember what happened!" Holly said with the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Tell us what happened in as much detail as you can remember?" Detective Olson said.

"It was Tuesday. I stopped at the grocery store on the way home from work to get some ground beef to make a meatloaf for our dinner. I got home just before five o'clock and was getting ready to start dinner when I heard the door bell. 

"I went to the door I could see two men standing on the porch with their backs to me. When I opened the door and asked if I could help them, one of them put his hand on my chest and pushed me back into the house. I told them to leave but they just laughed at me."

"Did you know these men?" Detective Olson asked.

"Yes. I didn't recognize them immediately but when they came into the house I remembered who they were. I hadn't seen them in over six years and I never expected to see them in Riverton."

"Who were they?"

"Pug Fazio and Bean Soriano. 

"Pug forced me into the kitchen and told me to sit at the table. Then Bean asked me what time Tom would get home. I told him that Tom usually got home around 5:45. 

"I asked them what they wanted and Pug said they would wait until Tom got home and then tell us what they wanted. Pug sat down at the table across from me and Bean just paced nervously around the kitchen. 

"When Tom hadn't arrived by six o'clock both of them seemed to get more nervous. At first I thought that Pug and Bean were sent to bring me back to Tony but when they said they were going to wait for Tom I knew they were going to kill both of us."

Holly looked at me with tears running down her cheeks and said, "I couldn't let them kill you because of a mistake I made in my past so when Bean said that he heard a car coming and Pug started to get up to see if it was you I ran to the back door and tried to get out. I hoped that I could warn you or if they shot me you would hear the gun shots and not come inside. That is the last thing I remember."

"How did you know these two men?" Detective Olson asked Holly.

"They worked for my former boyfriend." 

"They worked for Mike?" I asked. That surprised me. What did her former boyfriend have to do with Big Tony and his gang?

"Who's Mike?" Holly said.

"Mike, your ex-boyfriend, isn't he the guy you were running away from when you came to Riverton," I said.

"I am so sorry Tom. I lied to you about that. His name wasn't Mike," Holly said. 

I looked at Detective Olson and he just shrugged his shoulders. I turned back to Holly. "Why did you lie to me about his name?"

"I had just met you and I really didn't want to talk about anything that happened before I left New Jersey," Holly said. "You never asked about it again so I never brought it up. I guess I should have but I never expected him to come looking for me."

"Didn't expect who to come looking for you?" Detective Olson asked.

"Tony Lombardo. I was afraid when I first left Trenton that he would come after me. When several months went by and he didn't show up I figured that he wasn't ever going to come after me."

"Mrs. Blanchard, why don't you tell me about your relationship with Big Tony?" Detective Olson said.

"You know about Big Tony?" Holly said.

"Some. Why don't you tell me about him?"

"I Meet Tony when I was a public defender in Trenton. I was just a year out of law school and trying to get noticed by some of the large law firms and one of the older lawyers in the PD office suggested that I stop for drinks at the Ambassador Hotel bar after work. He said that lawyers from most of the local firms gathered there after work for drinks and to network. He told me it would be a great place for me to meet people that could help my career.

"I started going to the Ambassador two or three times a week and then one night I noticed this guy standing with Ben Garrison, one of Trenton's most prominent criminal defense lawyers. He was tall with a full head of dark hair and quite handsome and he was staring at me. I assumed that if he was drinking with Ben that he was also lawyer. 

"When I noticed that he kept staring at me even as I moved about the room I decided that I should find out who he was. So, I walked over and introduced myself to him. He told me his name was Anthony Lombardo but he said that I should call him Tony.

"I asked him what firm her worked for and he laughed. He said that he didn't work for any of the local law firms but several of them worked for him at one time or another."

"When he told you his name you didn't know who he was a criminal?" Detective Olson said.

"No. When I asked him what he did for a living he told me that he was just a businessman. 

"I had a drink with Tony that night and then I went home. I ran into him at the Ambassador again a few nights later and he asked me to have dinner with him. He said he had a business proposition he wanted to discuss with me.

"While we were eating dinner Tony told me that he wanted to hire me as his personal and business attorney. He gave me a brief description of what my duties would be and how much he would pay. His offer was nearly twice what I was making as a public defender and it looked like the perfect opportunity for me to start to make a name for myself.

"I was young and naïve and Tony seem almost bigger than life to me. I thought he was wonderful and I developed a huge crush on him. Tony started taking me out to dinner a couple of times a week and then one night after dinner Tone simply said 'I want you to come home with me and spend the night.' 

"Tom, I know this is hard for you to listen to but please remember that all this happened a long time before I met you," Holly said.

"I know. It's okay," I said even though I wasn't sure if it was okay. I would have to hear the rest of the story to decide.

"After that night I was not only his attorney but I was also Tony's girlfriend. Two months later he had me move into his house and shortly after that it all started to turn sour. That is when I started to realize what Tony really did for a living. Tony would talk about criminal acts he was planning right in front of me. I worried that if Tony got into trouble I might also face charges. I could have been disbarred. I tried to discuss this with Tony and he told me that as his attorney I didn't have anything to worry about. He assumed that anything that I heard him talking about was protected by attorney client privilege but that wasn't completely true. 

"I told Tony that I didn't want to be his lawyer anymore and that was when I saw his nasty side for the first time. He told me that there is only one way I would be able to quit working for him and that I would not like it.

"I heard the threat in what he said and I felt it in the icy stare he gave me as he said it. He followed his threat with a smile and said, 'You are my attorney and my girlfriend until I say otherwise.'" 

"So what made you decide to run away?" Detective Olson said.

"One evening I walked into the kitchen and found Tony talking to Nigel Needham."

"You mean Bagger?" Detective Olson interrupted.

"How did you know that?"

"Please continue."

"Well, Bagger and Tony were talking about a problem they were having with a couple guys and Tony told Bagger to 'We need to make them disappear.' Then Tony looked at me and said, forget you heard that or you will disappear too.

"That night after Tony went to sleep I packed just what I could carry in one suitcase and I left. I stayed in a cheap motel that night then in the morning I went to the bank and took all of my money out and closed the account. I drove all that day and the next until my check engine light came on. By then I was in Riverton. 

"I thought I might be safe here so I applied for a job at the diner using my middle name Holly instead of first name Jean. I hoped that going by Holly would make it harder for Tony to find me."

Holly turned to me and said, "I am sorry I lied to you about my past. At the time I didn't know I was going to fall in love with you and that we would get married but I should have told you the truth anyway. Can you ever forgive me?"

"I already have."

"But what are we going to do about Tony now? He won't stop until he either kills me or gets himself killed."

"Big Tony won't be bothering either of you for a long time. He and Bagger are both in custody and will most likely be spending the rest of their lives in prison," Detective Olson said. Then he looked at me and said, "By the way Big Tony is no longer Big Tony."

"What do you mean?" I said.

"Remember when his gun discharged when you were fighting with him?"

"Of course I do," I said. "He shot himself. The bullet went through his left thigh." 

"Yes, but before the bullet went through his thigh it severed his penis. The doctors were only able to save about two inches of it. I heard that his fellow prison hospital inmates are calling him Shorty now," Detective Olson said with a wink and a smile.

"You fought with Tony?" Holly said.

"He had to. Big Tony was about to suffocate you with a pillow. Your husband took out both Tony and Bagger with a bedpan."

"What about the others? Pug and Bean?"

"The rest of Tony's gang are dead. They were killed when the house they were renting blew up?" Detective Olson said.

"How did the house blow up?"

"The Fire Marshall believes it was a propane gas leak," Detective Olson said and then looked at me. "Isn't the Cheswick Farm near the woods you were hiding in when you escaped from Pug and Bean? 

Detective Olson didn't wait for an answer. He turned back to Holly and said, "I'll leave you two alone now. I'll let your husband tell you about his adventures after you were shot. I am glad that you are recovering so well and I hope to meet you again under better circumstances."

Holly both laughed and cried as I told her my story. When I told her about Porky and Slim and how the fire ants saved me I thought Holly might tear out her stitches she was laughing so hard. Then she started crying.

"I never want to kill an ant ever again. If it weren't for those fire ants you wouldn't be here with me now. If I had lost you I would not be able to go on. This is all my fault and I hate what you had to go through."

"The only way this could have been avoided is if I had never met you and I don't even want to think about that," I said. "If it weren't for you I would still be eating most of my meals at the diner." I kissed Holly and then said, "We have the rest of our lives for you to make this up to me. All you have to do now is get well. You do remember that you promised to give me a son don't you?" 

"Or a daughter," Holly said.

"Or both?"