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Haunted by the Past - Chapter 24 - Just Shooting the Breeze
By: RampageSports Date: March 25, 2016, 7:38 am
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Author's Note: The Spenser, Hawk, Susan Silverman and Vinnie
Morris characters belong to mystery novelist Robert B. Parker.
Mr. Parker is one of my favorite authors, and his work is a
major influence on the way I write. Whether I even come close
to mimicking his style is open to considerable debate, but I
have chosen to use his characters in this story as something of
an homage. My goal is to handle them as lightly as possible and
to maintain them as Mr. Parker created them. Any failure on
that front is completely my own.
[hr]
Haunted by the Past - Chapter 24 - Just Shooting the Breeze
My eyes opened to the breathtaking view Danni had mentioned.
The room remained dark, but the wooded strip behind the house
was ablaze with sunlight... every detail clear and sharp. A
pair of birds flitting from tree to tree, looking like they were
playing tag. A squirrel scurrying along the branches, the
cupule of an acorn peeking from his mouth. Deer lazily grazing
on fallen leaves and twigs, the pickings thin in the winter
season.
The backdrop to the scene was the tranquil, glassine Navesink
River sparkling in the sunlight — gently rolling along despite
the thin, jagged sheets of ice extending from its banks.
"Oh, Danni," I breathed as I took in the painting-like vista.
It was an experience I would have no trouble getting used to.
Performing the morning routine together was a breeze.
Unsurprisingly, Danni's spacious home featured a full master
bath. That left the full bath across the hall exclusively for
me. I was ready in record time, and we were exchanging
pleasantries with Hawk on the way out the door nearly thirty
minutes ahead of my usual schedule.
The only hitch we experienced was a minor one. Trooper Brown
was in charge of this morning's delivery, and he stepped out and
called to us as we each automatically headed for our own
vehicle.
"Ma'ams?" he said apprehensively.
Danni and I stopped and shared a smile with each other.
"I don't think that's a word, Gavin," I said as I looked back.
"No, ma'am," he said. "I don't think it is, either."
His conflicted expression made me feel sorry for him as I walked
his way.
"This has to stop," I said earnestly. "You and Vince, both.
We've known each other for over a week now, and who knows how
much longer this is going to go on? You have to call me
Richelle. I'd even settle for 'hey you' at this point.
Anything but 'ma'am.'"
"I'm not sure I can do that," he said. "It's automatic."
I rolled my eyes a little as I shook my head.
"Answer me this," I said. "If someone were to walk out of that
tree line with a gun, what would you do?"
"What would I do?"
"Yes. Tactically speaking, what would you do?"
He looked to the trees, then back to me, still trying to
comprehend what I was up to.
"Major O'Rourke has explained the situation, right? You
understand why he assigned you here?"
"Of course. We know all about Mr. Powers, and we are aware of
his reputation."
"So, you know the situation I've described is quite possible."
"Not really," he said as he began to describe the additional
unseen defenses now surrounding Danni's home. "With Trooper
Jordan positioned to the east, there's no way..."
"Humor me, Gavin," I said in mild frustration. "Guy comes
walking out of the woods. What do you do?"
He puzzled over my question a moment longer, then decided it
seemed harmless enough, even if he couldn't figure out my angle.
"Well, first thing I would do is put the two of you down behind
my vehicle," he said. "Then I would draw my weapon and engage
the subject."
"So, let's be clear. The potential assailant is there," I said,
pointing toward the trees. Then, I pointed to a spot on the
ground beside Gavin and said, "We go here, with you there."
"Correct."
"So an armed man comes out of those trees, intent on killing me.
Your job is to put your body between him and me?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said seriously.
"Well, then my name is Richelle," I said softly.
An appreciative smile appeared on his face as my point became
clear.
"Okay," he said. "Richelle it is."
"Good. Now, what can we do for you?"
"Well, if it's not a big deal, it would be better if you and..."
He paused and looked at Danni, waiting for her to fill in the
blank.
"Danni," she said.
"Danni," he said with a nod. "It would be better if you and
Danni traveled in one vehicle."
I laughed and looked at Danni, both of us amazed at how easily
we'd overlooked the obvious. Driving to work as a three-car
train would not only make Gavin's life harder, it would be
stupid. It's not as though we could go in different directions,
anyway.
"One car is fine," I said.
In fact, I was feeling so agreeable, I even let Danni drive.
As I climbed into the TT for the first time, I was completely
taken by its beauty. The interior was a crisp, clean black,
while the seats, door inlays and trim work were done in a soft
brown. The various pieces had been carefully designed and
assembled into gapless perfection — making it appear as though
the cabin had been crafted as a single object. An intricate
crisscross pattern stitched along the backs and cushions added a
touch of attitude to the refined leather seats, and the
sweeping, curved dash had that same
speeding-while-standing-still effect the overall vehicle gave
off.
Clearly, this car had cost a little more than the Subaru.
As I scanned around the vehicle, my eyes were immediately drawn
to what was missing. Behind the steering wheel, there was an
oversized, ski goggle shaped hole in the dash that was so dark,
it appeared endless.
"Where the hell are the gauges?" I asked.
Danni just smiled and poked the ignition button. The car fired
up and an LCD screen set in the back of the hole came to life.
After a welcome message, and a few startup screens, digital
versions of the speedometer and tachometer appeared, overlayed
on a map of the surrounding area.
"Oh, Danni," I said. "This car is speaking to me."
"Oh, yeah? What's it saying?"
"It's asking me if I want to see how fast it can go."
"Sorry," she said. "That's not something it can show you with a
State Trooper following us."
"That fast, huh?"
"Way faster," she said as she started toward the road.
I could tell she wasn't teasing from the forlorn hum the engine
made as we drove. The car seemed to be pleading with her to let
all of its horses come out and play, but she resisted the
temptation and kept her speed respectable.
For the first time in a long time, things seemed normal at RSI.
I even spotted Danni and Emma together at one point, the
animosity of yesterday's confrontation obviously behind them.
Around noon, though, Spenser came in from the lobby and put a
damper on things. Behind him was a long, lanky man with olive
skin and dark hair slicked back from his tall forehead. A man
who looked like danger without putting any work into it. A man
whose every movement seemed designed to conserve energy and
prevent wasted effort. When he stopped, he was perfectly still,
save for an almost imperceptible, rhythmic bob of his head, in
time to music no one else could hear.
Some people will tell you that the mob hitmen depicted on TV and
in the movies are pure creations — religiously faithful to a
stereotype that isn't real.
Vinnie Morris was that stereotype, and he was standing in my
office. That was real enough for me.
"Vinnie," I said by way of greeting.
The only response I got was that the next bob was upgraded to a
nod.
"Danni, can you come here a second?" I called.
Danni popped around the corner a moment later, wearing a
pleasant smile generated by a fruitful morning. One look at
Vinnie made short work of that, and I hurried through the
introductions before she fell on the floor.
"Danneel Harris, Vinnie Morris," I said.
They exchanged nods, and that was that.
"I need a minute here," Spenser said to Vinnie.
If the quick turnaround offended him, Morris didn't show it.
That fit with my recollection of our time together in Boston,
where I got the distinct impression he made it his business not
to care. He was so good at it, I eventually realized that he
really didn't. He would kill whoever he was hired to kill, and
not even question it. As long as he got paid, nothing else
mattered to him.
True to form, he moseyed back to the lobby, giving no indication
of how he felt about anything.
"All things being equal, Vinnie will take over the daytime
duties from Hawk," Spenser said.
"Uh..." Danni said.
"That's fine," I said definitively.
She turned and gave me an are-you-kidding-me look, but I ignored
it.
"Anything else?" I asked Spenser.
"I'm expecting some mail in the next few days. I gave the
sender this address."
"No problem," I said. "I'll keep an eye out for it."
"Right then," he said. "Off to beautiful Trenton."
I felt a profound sadness as I watched him go. I couldn't
understand how he managed it. I know it's his job and it's
something he's used to, but just the thought of sitting on Stark
Street for hours on end was enough to make me want to cry.
"Vinnie seems... different," Danni said when Spenser was gone.
"Yeah," I said. "Different is one word for him."
"How does a guy like that fall in with Spenser?"
"Spenser said his word is good, and that's what matters," I
shrugged. "He also says Vinnie is the best shooter he's ever
seen."
"Is that a good thing?"
"As long as he's not shooting at us, sure."
"Would he?"
"Shoot us? Not now. He told Spenser he'd help protect us, and
that's what he'll do. Make no mistake, though. If Powers had
hired him, he'd have done it and not thought twice about it."
She shuddered and hugged herself without being aware of it.
"Guy like that... you want him to be the first thing people see
when they walk into the lobby?" she asked.
"You want him in your house while you're asleep?"
"Yeah, okay... the lobby's good."
The remaining hours passed easily, with the only disturbance
being a mild protest from Britney and Leesh when they realized
Hawk was gone.
Detective Taylor was waiting outside when we came out at the end
of the day, and I walked straight to her and let her know we'd
be detouring to the grocery store.
"Damn," Danni said. "I forgot about that."
"Relax," I said. "You're with a professional."
The look that came across her face wasn't one of untethered awe.
Upon arriving at the store, I once again overlooked the obvious.
As Danni and I plucked a cart from the return corral, I was
surprised when Taylor fell in step behind us.
She easily read my expression.
"If you get shot while picking out a head of lettuce, the Major
isn't going to be too happy with me."
"Probably wouldn't be too thrilled about it myself," I agreed.
Given the state of Danni's meager food supply, I basically
needed everything in the store and then some, but I tried to
move as quickly as I could. I started with the produce, knowing
that would be the most involved part of the trip.
Experience had taught me how to spot the good stuff, and I was
absently running through my process with each item. It was at
the tomatoes when Danni finally questioned my technique.
"Do you actually know what you're doing, or are you just trying
to look that way?"
"Don't be questioning my ways," I said as I rejected one of the
miscategorized vegetables.
"There. What was wrong with that one?"
"It's not ripe," I said.
"How the hell do you know? They all look the same."
"Too light," Taylor said. "The darker ones are better."
"Ah, see?" I said. "Someone who knows what she's doing."
I returned another tomato to the bin.
"That one was dark. What was wrong with it?"
"Too soft. Probably got beat up during shipping."
I finished making my selections, then we moved on to the
bananas.
"Ooh, I love bananas," Danni said.
I looked at her sideways.
"If you like them so much, why don't you buy some once in a
while?"
She shrugged and said, "Meh," and I shook my head and proceeded
to the peppers.
I picked one up, examined it and returned it to the case.
"Now, why..." Danni began.
"Danni," I warned, "if you're going to question every little
thing I do, it's going to be a very long shopping trip."
She spread her hands in front of her and said, "Just trying to
understand the greatness."
"Woah, woah. Hold up. Am I being ridiculed for knowing what
I'm doing, now?"
"No. You're being ridiculed for making a production out of
picking out a pepper."
"Geez," Taylor said. "You two bicker like an old married
couple."
We both glared at her.
"I was starting to like you, Meghan," I said. "Let's not go
messing it up."
Her only response was a casual shrug.
We walked along in silence for a few minutes, which was actually
worse than Danni's nitpicking and needling.
"So," I said to Taylor, "tell us the story of Detective Meghan
Taylor."
Another shrug.
"Not much to tell."
"Aww, c'mon," I said. "You're how old, and already a detective?
There has to be a story there."
Her response was like watching a dog go into attack mode. I
swear she even bared her teeth, for a second.
"I'm thirty-two," she answered sharply, "and why does there have
to be a story?"
"Easy, Miss Defensive," I said. "I didn't realize it was such a
sensitive topic."
She softened her stance and blew out a sigh.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I get that question a lot. Usually
with some innuendo behind it."
"I don't think either of us doubt you earned the rank through
your work on the job," Danni said.
"Well, that's part of the problem," Taylor said. "I didn't.
Not totally, anyway."
Danni and I shared a look, then I turned back to Taylor.
"Now, you have to tell us," I said with a raised brow.
"Let's just say I have a special skill that impresses my
superiors," she said.
"You're not helping your cause," Danni said.
Taylor seemed to waiver for a moment, then made up her mind.
"I can shoot," she said off-handedly.
"Huh?" I said.
"They have these shooting competitions... just for law
enforcement," she said. "I've done pretty well."
"How well is 'pretty well?'" Danni asked.
"I've won a few," the officer said.
"Meghan," I prompted.
"I'm the regional champion with the semi-automatic the last five
years running," she said hurriedly, as though it bothered her to
discuss her accomplishments. "I have a couple of titles with
the revolver, too."
"That all?" I asked, sensing it was not.
"Fine," she said. "I was national champion two years ago with
the semi-aut."
"How big a field are we talking about?" I asked.
"Starting at the local level? Thousands."
Another look passed between Danni and I. This story was even
better than we'd expected.
"Alright Taylor," I said, "quit f*cking around. How good are
you?"
A small smile cracked through her humility.
"If you stood up there and held a quarter over your head..." she
began, nodding toward the front registers.
"Yeah?" Danni said.
"I could put a hole through it from the back of the store."
"Holy sh*t," Danni said.
Taylor nodded as the smile spread.
"I'm ranked as a High Master with the revolver and the
semi-aut," she said.
"I don't what the hell that means, but it sounds good," I said.
"It's the highest rank there is," she said. "I'm pretty good
with a couple of the long rifles, too."
"Why wouldn't you want to tell people about this?" Danni asked.
"It makes some people uncomfortable."
"Yeah, like the guys you're shooting at. I'm sure it makes them
very uncomfortable," I said.
"I'm talking about my fellow officers," she said.
I let that thought bounce around my mind for a minute, then came
to a conclusion I didn't like at all.
"Because you're a woman?" I asked.
"That does seem to be a factor with some of my male colleagues."
"Why?" Danni asked. "Because your gun is bigger than theirs?"
Taylor smiled broadly as she stifled a laugh.
"Something like that."
"Vince and Gavin don't seem to have a problem," I said.
"I said some, not all," she said. "Jordan and Brown are good
with it, as is the major. In fact, things have been very good
under him. I don't get that kind of vibe from anyone in the
unit."
"Yeah," I said. "Pat may be as old school as they come, but he
wouldn't put up with fools like that."
"No. He's very careful about adding new people."
"You said before that your superiors were impressed," Danni
said. "That how you got the promotion?"
Meghan nodded.
"Winning a tournament like that carries a lot of prestige in the
law enforcement community," she said. "I'm sort of a prized
commodity."
"Isn't shooting part of your job?" I asked.
"Of course."
"So, you got promoted for being great at what you do?" Danni
said.
"I guess you could say that."
"Well," I said, "you undeserving b*tch."
This time, the laugh got out before she could catch it.
As we meandered into the meat department, I picked up a sirloin
with the bone still in.
"You can shoot that out of there?" I asked, pointing to the
hard, white chunk near the center of the piece of meat.
"From 15 yards away without even touching the meat," Meghan
answered confidently.
"God damn," Danni said.
"Good thing she's on our side," I added.
I continued through the various meats, making my selections with
the same care I'd taken with the produce.
"You're a meat expert now, too?" Danni asked.
"When was the last time you saw the inside of a grocery store?"
I said. "And now you're critiquing my process?"
"I'm not critiquing anything. I just can't figure out how you
can look at two identical pieces of meat and decide one is
better."
"Well, for one thing, they have dates on them, doofus. That
sort of matters."
Taylor casually leaned between us.
"I'd just like to point out that you're doing it again," she
offered.
"Shut up, Meghan," Danni and I said, in unison.
We managed to finish the shopping without killing each other —
though Danni did accidentally get hit with a bag of marshmallows
— and headed back to the house.
After putting away the groceries, we went to our respective
rooms to change. We had discussed our living situation on the
way home and agreed to go casual all the way. There was no way
to know how long this might go on for, and we couldn't treat
every little thing like an event. So, dinner was to be relaxed.
Just two friends enjoying some good food. Neither of us was
entertaining, and there was no reason to dress or act like we
were. To that end, my ensemble for the evening was a pair of
black lounge pants and a faded Mickey Mouse Club t-shirt.
The shopping trip had soaked up most of the evening, but the
meal I had planned was relatively simple. I retrieved the
ingredients I needed before Danni returned — looking
magnificently comfortable in a loose pair of gray sweatpants and
a battered LSU sweatshirt.
She stopped just short of the kitchen and looked toward the
sitting area.
"I've been meaning to ask you," she said, "do you let Tramp on
the furniture at home?"
A scowl immediately overtook my face. I marched directly to
where she stood and stared in the same direction. There, I
found my dog happily curled up on Danni's chair.
"No, I do not," I said sternly.
Tramp's head popped up at the sound of my voice, and the look on
my face was command enough. He slunk off the chair, careful to
avoid eye contact as he did so.
"Dummy," I said as he lay down beside Winzig. "Maybe you can
learn a thing or two from your new friend."
Returning to the kitchen, Danni helped me gather the pots and
utensils I required. I filled a large stockpot with water and
set it on the stove to boil. Then I splashed a little olive
oil on an oversized frying pan and maneuvered it around to coat
evenly. I put it on the burner next to the pot, added a couple
of cloves of minced garlic and set the heat to low.
On the larger island, I had laid out a package of italian
sausage and a few pieces chicken beside a cutting board. I
uncased the sausage, then chunked it and put it in the pan.
"So, this is you in your natural element, eh?" Danni asked as I
trimmed the chicken.
"You've already seen me in my natural element," I said,
referring to our evenings in the cage, "but this is me in the
kitchen."
She grabbed a banana from where I'd stowed them in the corner of
the counter.
"You know we're gonna eat soon?" I said as she peeled back the
yellow skin.
"Thanks for the info, mom," she answered, "but I'm hungy now."
I smiled.
There are plenty of people in this world who refuse to take my
sh*t. But nobody does it with the same casual effortlessness
that Danni does.
I cut the chicken into bite size pieces, then added it to the
pan. Moving to the smaller island, I washed the vegetables I'd
laid out, then started shredding the lettuce. Danni tossed the
now empty banana peel in the trash, then washed up and started
peeling the carrots.
"Ah, not completely helpless in the kitchen, I see," I said to
her.
"Yeah, I can peel a carrot," she said. "Eat your heart to out,
Giada."
"You care how they get sliced?" I asked as I finished putting
the lettuce into a large salad bowl.
"This is your show," she answered. "I'll eat it however you
make it."
I pushed the bowl in her direction.
"Peel the good part into here," I said, "and try not to peel
your fingers in the process."
I stirred the chicken and sausage, then quartered the tomatoes
and added them to the bowl.
"So, there's something I've been meaning to ask you about," she
said.
"Shoot," I said.
"That's an interesting choice of words," she said, pausing while
she waited for me to follow.
"The gun," I said as I realized what the topic of conversation
was going to be.
"You demonstrated a certain familiarity," she said with a nod.
"Spenser taught me," I said.
In what was becoming a familiar pattern, my mind flashed back to
Boston — to the first time I'd felt the cold steel of a firearm
in my hand. I had never had the desire to use one before,
viewing them solely as barbaric tools of death and destruction.
But in that moment, at that time... the feel of the Browning's
diamond-patterned grip biting into my palm was the first step
toward my mental salvation.
I checked the pan again and saw the meat was browned. I added a
can of crushed tomatoes and a half cup of red wine. I seasoned
the mixture with basil and rosemary and stirred it through.
Then, I added a box of bow tie pasta and just a few drops of
olive oil to the pot of boiling water.
Returning to the island, I washed the cucumbers and started
cutting. Danni had produced a second cutting board, and had
moved on to the celery.
"I told you before about feeling helplessly dependent," I said.
"That feeling... no words can describe it."
"I know a little about it."
Pausing mid-slice, I raised my eyes to hers.
"I know," I said softly. "I did that. I tried to push you out
the other day, and that was wrong. I was worried about keeping
you safe, but I wasn't thinking about the rest of it. I
remember what it was like, and I don't want to do that to you."
"I get it," she said. "I hated it, but I get it."
"I know," I said, "and Emma..."
"Emma and I are good," she said. "Just let it drop."
The set of her jaw told me, once again, that there was something
I wasn't in on. Something she was keeping from me. It was
probably not my business, but I couldn't shake what Emma had
said. How convinced she was that Danni was going to do
something reckless. If there was something to that, then I
needed to know.
Rather than prying, I focused on only what truly concerned me.
"I just admitted I worry about you, so this is going to sound
pretty hypocritical..."
"Advanced warning?" she said. "I can't wait to see how bad this
is going to be."
"You can't... it's not your job to protect me."
"I know that."
"Do you?" I asked. "The plan is for Spenser to handle this, but
plans go wrong. If something happens..."
"I don't really want to talk about this."
A flash of pain played across her face. She chopped the leafy
top from a celery stalk, then turned and threw it in the
garbage. By the time she turned back the look was gone, but I
had seen it.
"That feeling you just had," I said. "I have it for you, too."
She silently sliced the stalk, then discarded the end.
"So, the gun," she said, pushing the conversation back to her
original topic.
"Danni..."
"I got you. Don't do anything stupid. Don't get myself killed.
Now, let's just drop it."
I blew out a frustrated sigh. Nothing she'd said made it seem
like she was agreeing not to do those things. Only that she
understood what I was asking.
On the other hand, the conversation was obviously over, so I
should probably just be happy I got as much as I did.
"Learning to shoot gave me back some of what I'd lost," I said.
"Maybe I wasn't going to have a hand in saving myself, but I was
doing something. Learning to protect myself, if I had to."
"Letting you have some control."
"Exactly. It wasn't much, but anything was better than what I
had."
"You still shoot."
There was no question in her tone. She had seen how I'd handled
the weapon, and she knew I'd kept my skills current.
"I'm a member of a gun club over in Tinton Falls," I said. "I
shoot once or twice a week."
"Why?"
"Seemed like a skill that, once learned, would be worth
keeping."
"You own a gun?"
"I do."
"You carry it on you?"
"No," I said. "First of all, it's all but impossible to get a
license to carry in this state. Beyond that, I have no interest
in walking around armed. I don't even keep the gun in the
house. I have a locker at the club, and I keep it there."
"If you don't carry a gun, how is it a useful skill?"
I pressed my lips into a thin smile. She had put me on the
defensive with her pointed questions, and I never realized she
was walking me into a trap. Now, she'd caught me in... well,
not a lie, but certainly a perversion of the truth.
"I shoot because I enjoy it," I admitted.
"Ah-ha," she said with a smile. "So, are you good?"
"Well, unlike Meghan, I'm not going to win any marksmanship
competitions. But I generally hit what I'm aiming for."
She finished with the celery, leaving only one vegetable left to
prepare.
"I'll flip you for the onion," I said.
"That's okay. It's all yours."
"Gee, thanks."
I sliced the onion and added it to the bowl. Danni took the
salad to the table, while I drained the pasta. I returned it to
the pot, stirred in the chicken and sausage mixture, then
carried the pot to the table, as well.
"Can you teach me?" Danni asked.
"To cook?" I asked, being deliberately obtuse. "Well, I'm not
sure you've got what it takes."
"I meant to shoot," she said dryly.
The mental image of a gun in Danni's hand seemed ridiculous, but
she could probably say the same about me. Besides, I knew where
the request was coming from, because I had been there myself.
The image of Danni reaching out and grabbing hold of a problem
as best she could and wrestling it into submission... that was
something I could easily buy into. And that was exactly what
she was trying to do.
"I don't think side trips are going to be happening too often
until this is over," I said.
"After, then."
"Sure," I said with a nod. "If you're still interested then,
I'd be happy to."
I went and retrieved Hawk, who was busy being carefully watched
by both dogs.
"Don't think they trust me," he said.
"They're probably just studying you to see what it takes to be a
great protector," I said.
"You think?"
"No. I think they're hoping you'll pet them."
"Done that, but they don't stop. Like I got a treat in my
pocket, or something."
"Well, I can't speak for Winzig, but if you had a treat in your
pocket, Tramp would have eaten it. And by it, I mean the whole
pocket."
We sat down to eat, and with the first forkful, it was clear
Danni was impressed.
Maybe a little too impressed.
"This is really good," she said.
"Why do you seem so surprised?"
"I never really saw you as a domestic," she said. "Honestly, I
was afraid you might poison us."
"First of all, I don't exactly know what a domestic is, but I'm
pretty sure it's not me," I said. "As for the poisoning,
there's always tomorrow."
[hr]
Character Reference
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/x7gm9w22n/Richelle_100x120.jpg
Name: Richelle Winterfeld
Nickname(s):
Background: Owner of the RSI stable, former underground fighter
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/9av3z511b/Danni_100x120.jpg
Name: Danneel Harris
Nickname(s): Danni
Background: RSI stable leader, reigning DEF welterweight
champion
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/cj46pxcov/Emma_100x120.jpg
Name: Emma Watson
Nickname(s): Dr. Watson
Background: Reigning FAC featherweight champion, training
partner and romantic partner of Tiffany Mulheron
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/kmg56h1fj/ORourke_100x120.jpg
Name: Patrick O'Rourke
Nickname(s):
Background: Major with the New Jersey State Police, family
friend of Richelle's
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/bwegrvukf/Meghan_Taylor_100x120.jpg
Name: Meghan Taylor
Nickname(s):
Background: New Jersey State Police Detective, works for Major
O'Rourke
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/e0pn1hhfj/Gavin_Brown_100x120.jpg
Name: Gavin Brown
Nickname(s):
Background: New Jersey State Police Trooper, works for Major
O'Rourke
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/zdkkf918f/Vince_Jordan_100x120.jpg
Name: Vince Jordan
Nickname(s):
Background: New Jersey State Police Trooper, works for Major
O'Rourke
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/5ul2pzr7j/Tramp_100x120.jpg
Name: Tramp
Nickname(s):
Background: Richelle's dog
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/6rw3cls3j/Winzig_100x120.jpg
Name: Winzig
Nickname(s):
Background: Danni's dog
#Post#: 2994--------------------------------------------------
Re: Haunted by the Past - Chapter 24 - Just Shooting the Breeze
By: BadAssBunnies Date: March 26, 2016, 8:18 pm
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OK, now this one really resonates. I dare to say that I'm even
more particular than Richelle when it comes to picking out
vegetables. I've had my fair share of dirty looks and sighs and
even had someone pick some apples and put them in my bag. There
is absolutely nothing wrong with going through a bin full of
onions to get the perfect one or two. On the other hand I must
look like I know what I'm doing as people often ask me to pick
veggies out for them. Nice touch.
#Post#: 2995--------------------------------------------------
Re: Haunted by the Past - Chapter 24 - Just Shooting the Breeze
By: RampageSports Date: March 26, 2016, 10:35 pm
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So, you can't relate to driving an Audi TT or being a national
shooting champion?
Yeah... neither can I.
I never thought of the supermarket trip as being a way to
connect with those doing the reading. I mostly intended it as a
way to get Danni and Richelle going at each other a little. But
it just goes to show that you never know what's going to appeal
to who. :D
On a more serious note, if some random person started picking
out apples for me to hurry me along, I guarantee you there would
be a food fight in the produce aisle. >:(
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