05 - Dead Man Walking?

Dead Man Walking?

Chapter 01

          George Dennison was missing. For over two weeks, the day-shift supervisor had not shown up for work at the SFPD crime lab. At first everyone assumed he was taking an unscheduled two-week vacation and simply failed to tell anyone. The 56-year-old widower had become reclusive and downright rude to everyone since the death of his wife a few months earlier. Jeff Randall, the night shift supervisor, repeatedly tried to phone him, but Dennison never answered either his home or cell phone.

         When two weeks turned into three with no word, a worried Randall asked Captain Bob Steele to check on him. He found the door to the missing man’s home wide open, but no one was inside. There also was no evidence that anyone had been there recently. Mail and newspapers had piled up outside, and on checking, Steele saw they went back about two weeks.

         Removing his gun from its holster, and motioning for the police officer following behind him to do the same, he entered slowly. Holding their guns in readiness, Steele and the officer went from room to room looking for signs of violence. When the officer found a few blood splatters on the kitchen wall and cooking pots strewn all over the floor, Steele opened his cell and dialed Randall's home phone number. He hoped the night shift supervisor might know where his day shift counterpart was.

Chapter 02
         Randall and Angela Starkey were relaxing over breakfast after a hectic night's work when his phone rang. Since he didn't get up to answer the phone, but groaned at the thought of possibly having to check out another dead body, Angela said sarcastically to no one in particular, "Why don't I get the phone?" Since the phone was close behind her on the counter, this was what her friend had been hoping she'd do all along.

         Picking up the phone, she said in a low yet sensual voice, "Lover boy can't come to the phone right now. I don't want to wake him yet as he's been, ah, very, um, active tonight and needs to get his energy back."

         At this, Randall choked as he was sipping his coffee. Taken aback by her playfulness at his expense, he didn't know whether to laugh or grab the phone away from her before she went any further. Grabbing the phone won out. "Randall," he managed to get out, threatening a stranglehold on the now grinning woman.

         "Jeff, you never fail to surprise me," he heard a familiar gruff voice say. "Who is that lovely lady, what have you been doing with her, and why haven't you introduced me yet?" Randall rolled his eyes in exasperation. He realized today was his day for heckling by his friends.

         "That was no lady, that was Angela and, no, we are just having breakfast and not what you're thinking!" Angela started to say something to him, hearing him say she was not a lady, but thought perhaps Steele calling this time of the morning might be important. Could it be something about Dennison?

         Getting serious, Steele continued, "Since Angela is there with you, would you both come over to Dennison's home? I found some blood and need you to check out his place. You can tell me if there has been foul play or not."

         "On our way!" Dennison wasn't a favorite person of his, but it wasn't in his nature to wish ill of anyone. Randall passed on the information to Angela who quickly agreed to accompany him. As the two of them left the house and walked to his SUV, inside his phone started ringing again, but no one was there to hear it.

Chapter 03

         "What the hell happened here?" Angela looked around Dennison's kitchen in dismay while the realization that he might be more than missing sank in. She looked over at the two men; Randall was down on one knee closely examining the various cooking utensils scattered on the floor while Steele stood nearby waiting for his analysis. Her supervisor picked up one pot after another checking for more blood, slowly turning them round and round but shaking his head when he had finally finished.

         "No blood here," he commented as he got to his feet. "All I see are lots of dents, probably from someone throwing them." As he passed Angela on the way to the living room, he noticed the streaks of blood on the kitchen wall. "Be sure to take a swab of that and send it back to the lab. It might not even be his." Knowing how violent the world was and how many people disliked Dennison because of his recent rudeness, Randall wasn't hopeful. However, he did not want to rule anything out yet.

         "We'd better check out the rest of his place," said Steele said to the waiting officer from the stairs leading upstairs to the bedrooms. "This floor seems a dead end, so to speak." Because Steele had battled many times with Dennison, he was not feeling as kindly towards him as the other two were or even upset about his possible death.

         Five hours later, the whole house examined with no new evidence found, the four of them finally acknowledged defeat and left for the lab, unopened mail, blood swab, and dented pots in tow. Of course, no one knew about the nearby storage unit Dennison rented. No one came to look. No storage attendant noticed it remained deserted since many people rarely visited their units once rented. Those walking nearby also overlooked the faintly malodorous smell coming from one of those units.

Chapter 04

         "Who would have guessed Dennison was a National Geographic member and enjoyed the Playboy Channel? Man of many interests!" These tidbits of information were from Anthony. He was seated in the evidence lab going through the mail brought back from Dennison's house. Among the usual utility bills were some clues about the man's personality, a man none of the people looking into his disappearance knew much about. An envelope that had become unglued in the hot San Francisco weather was of particular interest. He noticed a handwritten return address scribbled in the corner. The address simply read “The Scum Bagman” at Dennison's address.

         "Must be from an admirer!" said Anthony with a straight face, handing the envelope to Jake for fingerprint checking. Taking the single sheet of paper out of the envelope, Jake read aloud the block letter printing on it. "Your day is coming. I saw what you did." Without another word or even a look at either Anthony or Randall who also was in the room, Jake left to deliver both the envelope and cryptic note to the appropriate lab for fingerprints.

         Randall took out his cell phone and called Steele. "Bob, I think you'd better get over here. Dennison might be in more danger than we first thought." After hanging up, he silently sat there deep in thought. What had Dennison gotten into? Why was someone mad enough at him to send a threatening anonymous letter? Whose blood was all over his kitchen? Was he even still alive?

         Without more evidence, all these questions lay heavily on his mind, unanswered.

Chapter 05

         More than an hour passed before Jake returned with the news that they found a fingerprint match. "His next-door neighbor sent the letter, if you can believe that," Jake chuckled as he continued, "He must have done something to royally piss off this person. Dangerous to do since this woman has two assault with a deadly weapon charges against her."

         "Okay, gentlemen, which of you two care to meet and question this lady?" Randall looked innocently at Jake and Anthony. "No, on thinking it over, I think Jake had better do it." When Jake started sputtering, Randall smiled over his shoulder as he left the room followed closely by a grinning Anthony, "You deal so well with the fairer sex, Jake…or so Anthony tells me!"

         Giving both men an "I'll get you two for this" look, Jake walked out towards the front door, his steps became even slower than Anthony ever managed. Filled with misgiving, he left probably to meet his doom at the hands of an angry woman. Even his considerable southern charms might not work this time.

Chapter 06

         As Randall returned to his office with a still smiling Anthony, he heard his phone ringing. With no Angela around to answer it for him this time, Randall picked up the receiver with a resigned sigh but put the call on the speaker when he heard Steele’s voice on the other end.

         “Jeff, we may have a problem,” quietly stated his friend. “I just got a call from a storage company not far from where Dennison lived, or rather lives!”

         “Yes? And?”

         Steele continued before Randall could ask any more questions, “The owner reported a smell like something is dead coming from a walk-in unit that apparently a George Dennison rented a month ago. He wants us to investigate it. I’ll meet you there and bring your kit, just in case.” With that, after giving Randall the address, Steele rang off leaving two worried men in his wake.

         “I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Anthony. You better come with me!” He quickly led the way out to the black SUV with Anthony having to hurry to keep up with the older man. After placing both of their cases in the back of the vehicle, Anthony aimed for the driver’s side of the car not trusting the driving to his usually unshakable supervisor, now with a distracted look on his face. As they drove out of the parking lot, Randall’s cell phone started vibrating in his slack’s pocket sending a secondary vibration of dread through his body.

Chapter 07

         Meanwhile, Jake slowly drove up to the address of Dennison’s angry neighbor. After parking the SUV in the driveway, engine facing towards the street in case he needed to make a hasty retreat, he got out and walked up the long pathway. Just as he reached the bottom step to the house, the front door opened to reveal a large disheveled woman. Her bleached red hair was up in big hot-pink plastic curlers. Her floor-length orange bathrobe and huge fluffy slime-green slippers had all seen better not to mention cleaner days. A lit cigarette hanging from the side of her fleshy mouth drifted smoke up into her eyes, causing them to squint in a most unattractive way. All in all, here was a challenge for Jake, but the young man was up for it. Straightening his muscular shoulders in determination, he smiled up, way up, at the tall woman who towered over him at the doorway.

         With southern charm oozing from his every word, he asked, “Are you Mrs. Fallon who sent a letter to George Dennison a week or so ago?”

         “Yeah, that’s me! Who wants to know?” She took a deep drag on her cigarette after she spoke these words in a low husky voice. Jake took a step backward to avoid the second-hand smoke, still smiling just not so charmingly.

         “I’m Jake Parker from the San Francisco P.D. Crime Lab. We are investigating the apparent disappearance of Mr. Dennison and following up all leads. May I come in to discuss your letter?” As he said this, the image of what her house might be like caused him instantly to regret this last question. However, it was too late to take it back when the woman moved out of the doorway and motioned him inside. As he walked past her into a cluttered living room, he stopped short in shock at what he saw.

Chapter 08

         After Randall put the cell phone to his ear and quietly said, “Randall,” he heard the voice of Simon, his newest recruit, who again was helping in the DNA lab while the regular lab technician was away on maternity leave.

         With excitement filling his voice, Simon almost tripped over his own words to get out the important message. “I’ve analyzed that blood you found in Dennison’s kitchen. Think Bambi!”

         “Bambi?” a confused Randall asked. “As in that hooker Steele had arrested last week for soliciting him inside the main police department? That Bambi?”

         “No!” laughed Simon. “This one never wore six inch heels and a purple micromini dress.” At that, he rang off leaving two stunned men in his wake.

         “Bambi the deer? A real deer? It was deer blood?” As he drove, Anthony shot these questions to Randall in rapid machine-gun order. “What the hell was Dennison doing with a deer in his kitchen?”

         Shaking his head, Randall couldn’t think of how to answer him but sat in the SUV holding the cell phone first in bewilderment then with laughter crinkling his eyes. “Dennison the mighty hunter? Who’d a thought he had it in him?” As a sudden realization hit him, he no longer felt like laughing as he looked over at Anthony to ask, “Where would he have killed a deer? It’s not deer season anywhere in the state for months.”

         Both men drove silently for a few minutes as possible scenarios went through their minds of what Dennison might have done or had done to him. Meanwhile back at Randall’s empty home, his phone again started ringing. For the second time since Randall and Angela had left, the answering machine recorded a frantic message. Someone needed help desperately, but there was no one there who could respond.

Chapter 09

         Back at trace, Mary stood in shock as the technician reported what he had found on the Dennison’s dented pots given to him by Jake earlier in the day. It was the last thing she would have expected from the straitlaced shift supervisor. However, after remembering the reading material brought back from his home, she realized that this should not surprise her. This man had a side to him he had kept so well hidden from all of them.

         “Well?’ asked the lab tech. “Do you call Mr. Randall first? You should report it to Captain Steele, too.”

         “Let me think for a minute!” The usually unshakable woman hastily reviewed in her mind all the ramifications of what they found and how best to proceed with this news and to whom. After wryly thanking the tech for the information, taking the piece of incriminating trace report from him, and quickly leaving the lab, Mary shook her head as if to clear up her thoughts then made a quick decision. Randall it was, and Steele would have to learn it from him.

         At that, she left the lab and drove her car to where Randall had told them he would be. No matter what they found at the storage unit, this information took priority. All hell was about to break loose, and she wanted to be there for the action.

Chapter 10

         As Jake stopped short upon entering the living room, Mrs. Fallon who had been walking close behind him plowed into his back almost knocking him off his feet. Catching his balance by grabbing hold of the arm of the nearby sofa, he silently looked around the large room trying to take in what was in front of him. Never in his admittedly short but varied life had he come across such a collection. On all four walls and in dozens of display cases, he saw weapon of every type stored in no particular order.

         An ornate sword of unknown age nestled next to a bazooka probably brought home from some distant war. Twenty or so guns of different calibers hung from a pegboard with boxes of ammunition stored underneath on a large rickety wooden table. Daggers and knives of all shapes and sizes lay around the room just waiting for a hand to pick them up and put them to their intended use. In the far corner next to an open door leading into the kitchen there was a rusty cannon looking to be of Civil War vintage, small but still lethal in appearance.

         Jake swallowed nervously. This was not a woman he should fool with or underestimate. He sincerely doubted if his boyish charm would do the trick of finding out what she had against Dennison. When he turned to face the woman, his mind was whirling trying to find a possible solution to how he should handle this delicate situation. As usual at times when he had a major decision to make, one thought always came to mind.

         “What would Randall do?”

Chapter 11

         Standing outside a large storage building was the stocky figure of Captain Steele. When the SUV containing Anthony and Randall pulled up next to him, he greeted the two men with a grim expression on his face and motioned them to follow a younger man in the uniform of the storage company. Stitched on the front of the man’s khaki shirt was the name “Connor” in red embroidery.

         The four men walked quickly to a door halfway down the building’s main corridor. Standing outside the locked corrugated door, they could easily smell a foul odor seeping out from underneath it, and three of them quickly stepped back. Connor search for a master key on a key ring hanging from his shirt pocket and, holding his breath, unlocked the door. The door swung slowly open, and he bent over gagging from the increased smell.

         Inside were the usual items that people store: A well-used set of golf clubs, boxes labeled and holding books and sports trophies, and various power tools. At the back almost hidden by the boxes stood a midsize freezer. With this were two old amateurish oil paintings, stacked against a tall aluminum ladder off to one side of the storage area. There was hardly any room to walk within the unit as the three men started looking for the source of the smell. Connor decided wisely to stay outside where the bad smell wasn’t so overpowering.

         About fifteen minutes went by as they checked through the crowded unit one box at a time. The men found nothing, nothing, and more nothing to explain the smell growing even stronger the further into the room they went. With his eyes watering and struggling to keep down the bile coming up into his mouth, Anthony suddenly turned to the open door with an alert look on his face.

         “Do any of you hear that?” A negative shake of both men’s head had him walking out the unit into the corridor to listen for the sound again. Needing a break, the two men followed him and suddenly heard a voice loudly calling out from a distance.

         “Where the hell are you guys? Come on, I know you’re here somewhere.” They recognized the disgusted voice of their fellow forensic scientist coming from the front entrance. As they walked towards it, Mary came into view, her long stride reflecting her anger at having to waste time hunting for them. If there was one thing Mary disliked most it was to waste time.

         Upon joining with the three men, Mary calmed down enough to give the paper from trace to her supervisor. No one spoke as Randall read the results quickly then again more slowly. His stunned look almost mirrored the one that had been on Mary’s face a short time earlier.

         “Did he double-check? Is he sure of this?”

         “Triple-checked it on my insistence,” replied Mary, “and he got the same results each time. At one time Dennison’s pots contained pot!”

Chapter 12

         Putting his hand to his cheek as if in admiration, Jake gushed at the annoyed woman, “I am very impressed with your weapons collection, Mrs. Fallon. However did you manage to gather so many beautiful items? That cannon is to die for, absolutely!”

         With the woman looking at him as if he’d suddenly grown a third eye, Jake continued in this vein for a few more minutes. He laid it on thick, but not so much the woman would catch on to his effeminate act. This was not what Randall would have done, he knew, but Jake had come up dry for any other more dignified way of handling this.

         Finally deciding it was time to get down to business, Jake gingerly sat down on the sofa after fussily brushing away nonexistent dirt. When he pulled out the Xeroxed copy of the letter she had sent to Dennison and handed it to her, he did it so casually that it didn’t tip off the woman to his intent.

         “Now, a gentile lady like you obviously are,” Jake started out, “would never send Mr. Dennison a letter like this one is.” He continued adding an innocent smile, “Does someone else live here with you who might not have your breeding and taste?”

         “No, Mr. Pucker….”

         “Parker!”

         “Mr. Parker, it’s just me here, a widow woman all on her own.” The sofa sagged just a bit as the now simpering redhead sat down next to Jake, a bit too close for his comfort. “I’m afraid I did send that scu...gentleman the letter when I saw what he did. I might have gotten a wee bit carried away, but you wouldn’t believe what he was doing.”

         “Why don’t you tell me all about it then? I’m in no hurry.” Jake tried to ease away from the woman without being too obvious about it, but she followed him inch for inch. Finally admitting defeat, he figuratively gritted his teeth and waited for her explanation hoping it would be quick and painless.

         She dashed these hopes when she lit another cigarette and settled back on the sofa, getting ready for her long explanation. “Well,” she said blowing out a long stream of smoke from her nose, “It happened this way!”

Chapter 13

         After working a double shift in the DNA lab, Simon was ready to leave and relax at home when a sudden thought hit him. No one had bothered to check for fingerprints at Dennison’s home, a vital part of any police investigation. Since he was in complete awe of his supervisor and constantly wanted to impress the man, Simon decided to take the initiative. He would do the fingerprinting himself without waiting for Randall to remember this omission and assign it to someone else.

         Inside the evidence box with the stack of mail and original copy of the neighbor’s letter was the key to Dennison’s front door. Simon grabbed it and took off to find what he hoped would be the final piece to breaking the case of the missing Dennison. With any luck, he might even get the highest praise from his reserved boss that he ever gave, “Good job!”

         On entering the deserted house, Simon went directly to the kitchen where all the action evidently happened. Ignoring the dried blood on the wall, he immediately took out the fingerprint kit from his black case and went silently to work. An hour later, he gathered all the evidence and returned to headquarters to run the prints through AFIS. He had first been able to eliminate the prints of Dennison since the fingerprints of the scientists were on file.

         Sitting there daydreaming about the accolades Randall would heap on him for the excellent job he did with the fingerprinting, Simon was startled to see “Match Found” suddenly show up on the screen. At first stunned then shocked and finally horrified, he could only stare at the screen and the name that was there.

         Not even realizing that he had automatically printed the screen out to hard copy, Simon stumbled over his chair in a hurry to get to the storage unit and show Randall what he had found. How this new lead tied into Dennison’s disappearance he had no idea but knew the others would. At least he hoped they would.

         For once, Simon knew he would be the one to providing the clue that might solve the case of the missing man.

Chapter 14

         Jake was managing to evade the cigarette smoke still circling the woman’s head like a halo, but it was getter harder to do as she moved ever closer to him on the sofa.

         “Late one afternoon about ten days ago I saw a pickup truck drive up into his backyard.” Settling herself more firmly in preparation for the story she was about to tell, Mrs. Fallon looked off into space trying to remember exactly what she had seen. This delicious young man deserved to hear everything to the smallest detail. “Mr. Dennison was dressed in rain slicker and big brimmed rain hat, but who else would be at his house on such a rainy day?” she continued.

         “Who else indeed?” responded Jake, patiently waiting as she put out her cigarette before lighting another one, her third since he had entered the house.

         ”Well, he went to the back of the pickup and lifted out something wrapped in blue canvas. As he struggled to carry it into the house, the canvas slipped back, and I could see the head of a deer. From the size of the bundle, it had to have been either a doe or a large fawn. Everyone knows it’s only legal to kill bucks, and it’s not even deer season yet, not for a couple more months.” She said this last in a tone of pious outrage from one who would never consider breaking the law this way. Other laws, maybe, but never this law.

         “Then what happened?” Jake was starting to get curious in spite of himself about Dennison’s strange and illegal behavior. Could he just be out of contact hunting for another deer and not in any danger?

         Seeing the look of interest on Jake’s face at what she was saying, Mrs. Fallon continued. “I was going to go over and chew out the son of a… I mean confront him about what I had seen but decided to just write the letter. Safer, you see, as I wasn’t sure if he still had the gun with him he used to kill the deer.”

         Jake nodded his head agreeing saying, “Wise decision, Ma’am, as he might not take too kindly if you caught him breaking the law. Now I must go report to my boss what you told me. You’ve been a big help, and I’ll be sure to let him know that.” As he stood up to leave, Jake gave the woman one last brilliant smile that thrilled her down to her slime-green slippers.

         After checking back at work to find out where Randall was, Jake headed for the storage unit about a mile away. He felt sure he would be the one to break this case wide open.

Chapter 15

         With Simon coming pedal to the metal from police headquarters and Jake driving the few shorts blocks from Mrs. Fallon’s house, it seemed things were finally coming to a head in the disappearance of George Dennison.

         Since Randall and the others at the storage unit knew nothing about the two people driving towards them, they were back investigating the unit’s many boxes for the source of the vile bad smell. The voice of Connor, the storage attendant, outside in the corridor brought them once again a chance to get some relief from their searching.

         “Mr. Randall,” the man said, not getting close to them as the smell had now attached itself to their clothing. “I checked the records for this building and found the storm about a week ago had caused the electricity to go out over the long weekend. The kid who does part-time work for us did check the circuit breakers, but must have forgotten to fix the one for this unit. Is there anything in there that might have needed electricity for the last week?”

         Remembering the freezer at the far back of the unit, Mary was the first to turn around and head back towards it pushing the boxes out of her way in her hurry to get there. Randall, Anthony, and Steele, leaving Connor still standing out in the corridor, far away from the fragrant and scrambling people, closely followed her.

         Reaching the freezer, she waited until the three men were standing by her then asked. “Who would like to do the honors of opening this? I think our stalwart supervisor should do it. Right, gentlemen?”

         Randall stepped forward and unlatched the lid of the freezer. As he lifted it up, the smell that had become bearable almost knocked them off their feet with its increased strength. He heard gagging behind him as he gingerly lifted a dripping package up for a closer look. “I think we found the source of the smell. There are about two dozen newspaper-wrapped packages of some meat in here that are a bit spoiled.”

         Randall’s understatement of the meat’s condition caused strained grimaces all around as one after another they leaned over to inspect the contents of the freezer. Following Randall’s instructions, each of them carefully picked up a package to bring back to the lab for further inspection of what type of meat it was. All hoped it wasn’t chopped-up Dennison.

         Once outside in the fresh air, Randall contacted Jake to have him meet them back at the lab just as Simon drove up. The young man braked sharply to a stop causing road dirt to fly up into the faces of the four standing nearby. The annoyed look on Randall’s face quickly changed to amusement as he watched him almost fall out of the car in excitement. He hoped Simon would never lose this exuberance for the job as so many did after years of seeing dead mutilated bodies.

         Not giving him a chance to explain his excitement, Randall motioned Simon back into his car and told him to follow them. In a caravan of four cars, Randall and Anthony, Mary, Steele, and finally Simon headed away from the storage unit back to headquarters where they would assemble all the facts they and Jake had discovered about the disappearance of Dennison. If only they had stopped at Randall’s home, they might have discovered one more clue, but this didn’t happen.

Chapter 16

         With the forensic team and Steele once more assembled in Randall’s office, they awaited the results from trace of the packages of spoiled meat. Fish, fowl, animal, or Dennison? What would it be?

         Seeing Simon almost pulling out hair in frustration from trying to get his attention, Randall took pity and asked what was it he had to tell them that had him so excited.

         “Have any of you heard of Alfred Dorcet” Not waiting for them to answer, Simon continued hardly pausing for breath. “He’s that maniac last reported up near Reno who nearly killed a couple Rangers after they caught him poaching in the national forest there.”

         “Simon, that’s very interesting,” Randall smiled with a patient look on his face, “but what has that to do with Dennison being missing?”

         Satisfied he’d gotten his supervisor’s full attention, Simon told him without any further delay, although this went against his preferred way of methodically presenting information in a slow and orderly manner. “Since no one had taken any fingerprints at Dennison’s house, I went over and did it. I found the fingerprints in the kitchen of this Alfred Dorcet.”

         Randall’s eyes opened wide as he suddenly realized he’d forgotten to assign someone to do this. Everyone else quickly looked over at him to see how he would react to this failure.

         “Simon, I should have thought of that myself, but I’m glad you covered the bases that way. Very good job! Well done!”

         Simon sat up straight in his chair at that. Not simply a “good job” from Randall but the rare “very good job!” and the even more prized “well done”.

Chapter 17

         While everyone was discussing this new startling piece of information, the lab tech walked in to hand the trace results to his boss then left to return to the lab. Randall quickly read it then gave a big sigh of relief soon shared by his friends.

         “It’s venison, not Dennison.”

         When everyone finally quieted down, he continued, “Let’s walk this through. Evidently, after this Alfred Dorcet found an empty house, Dennison’s, he broke in then brought the dead animal inside and cut it up. Seeing the keys with address printed on them to Dennison’s storage unit on the kitchen rack where George kept them, Dorcet decided to store the meat there for safekeeping. Once he managed to shake the officials who were after him for the murder of the Rangers, he’d come back and collect it.” At this point, Randall looked over towards Steele with one eyebrow raised as if to ask if Steele understood what he was saying.

         The alert police captain took out his cell phone and notified his department to put some detectives on the storage unit to collect Dorcet when he finally returned. At least one crime would be resolved even if Dennison still was missing.

         With everyone in the room talking at once about this twist in the case, Randall decided it was time, past time in fact, to check for any phone messages at his home. It had become a daily habit of his from years ago before cell phones became popular to do this when working a double shift even though he rarely got calls on his landline phone now.

         As the robotic voice repeated the multiple messages stored on his answering machine, Randall’s loud laughing shout, “That miserable son of a bitch is alive!” almost startled his friends into heart attacks.

         When he had finally stopped his relieved laughter, the man who had often disagreed vehemently with Dennison realized that he honestly was glad the other man was still alive.

         “Don’t leave us in suspense,” grumbled Anthony. “Where is he and why did he call you?

         Still with a big grin on his face, Randall took pity on his waiting friends and told them what had been on his answering machine for almost 24 hours. Afterwards, everyone except Randall trooped out of his office to share a drink or two, putting it on Dennison’s account at the local watering hole. He deserved to pay for all the work and worry he had put them through.

         Randall, feeling relieved but tired down to his bones, left them to answer the pleas for help he’d heard from a frantic Dennison. All he wanted to do was go home and curl up to sleep in his comfortable king-size bed, but Dennison’s return to the fold came first.

Chapter 18

         The following day when all involved had returned refreshed to work after catching up on their long overdue sleep, Dennison joined them in Randall’s office to fill them in on what had happened. Steele had called earlier to let Randall know the police caught Dorcet at the storage unit around midnight. The criminal was currently in jail waiting extradition to Reno.

         With everyone either sitting or standing, coffee mugs filled, and all their attention on Dennison, they waited eagerly for his explanation. Randall leaned back in his chair, enjoying Dennison’s slight embarrassment.

         Dennison opened his mouth a couple times but nothing came out. “Come on, George, you’re among friends. Tell them what happened.” Randall couldn’t resist rubbing salt into the man’s wound but then took pity on him as Dennison threw an anguished look his way.

         “Okay, I’ll help you out.” Heads swung towards Randall as Dennison sank back into his chair letting the other man do his worst. “It seems Dennison’s nephew dropped by a couple weeks ago and invited him to go fishing with him over in gold country. Those pots we found in the kitchen belonged to the young man, and he planned on using them for cooking dinner. Dennison didn’t even know his nephew used them to transport pot down for sale here."

         "In the confusion of leaving for the trip, Dennison accidentally left them behind. He also forgot to lock the back door or even let anyone know where they were going for the weekend.”

         As everyone looked back at Dennison, he was nodding his head at what Randall was saying. “Roger is my favorite sister’s son but does have a wild streak in him. He’s also a bit mean, too. Don’t know where he gets that from!”

         Hiding their smiles behind their hands with varying degrees of success, all the others again looked to Randall to resume his story, which he did. “It seemed this young man needed Dennison’s car and cell phone to conduct further business with his pot plants. After driving to a deserted river far from any town, he took off leaving Dennison to walk for days before some old farmer picked him up.”

         Randall stopped for a minute to see how Dennison was taking this public humiliation. Seeing he was sitting there fully humbled with his head in his hands, Randall decided to end his ordeal as quickly as he could.

         “He spent about a week getting his strength back from all that exercise and then used up a couple more days trying to convince the frugal farmer to give him a ride into town. After promising the man all the bills in his wallet, the guy gave in.”

         The humor at Dennison’s expense had disappeared from all their faces by now as the seriousness of his predicament finally sunk in. “With the change he had kept in his pocket, he called me repeatedly at home from a pay phone to come and get him.” Randall looked around at every person in his office. “He thought I’d be the only one to rescue him, and the rest of you might be tempted to leave him there permanently.”

         The stern look on his face demanded a response from them, and it pleased him to hear their quick replies. Their words of denial and newly found friendship for this often irritating man washed over Dennison, soothing his bruised ego in a way unfamiliar to him.

         As everyone finally left the office to get back to long overdue work, he stood up and held out his hand to the man who had once again been there when a co-worker needed him.