Array: Byte shorts and other stories Read online

  Array

  A collection of short stories

  By

  Cat Connor

  Array is a work of fiction.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons,

  living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2014 by Cat Connor

  This book may not be reproduced in whole or part, by any means, without permission.

  Making or distributing electronic copies of this book constitutes copyright infringement and could subject the infringer to criminal and civil liability.

  ISBN (10): 1495415295

  ISBN (13): 978-1495415296

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to thank the usual suspects:

  Chris

  Caoilfhionn

  Brianna

  Rosanne

  Megan

  Carolyn

  Grasshopper:

  “If a man dwells on the past, then he robs the present. But if a man ignores the past, he may rob the future. The seeds of our destiny are nurtured by the roots of our past.” – Master Po

  Kung Fu Season One Episode 5.

  Contents.

  Part one:

  Byte shorts – featuring SSA Ellie Conway.

  1. Back Door Santa ……………………………. 9

  2. Room at the End of the World ……………….25

  3. I’m With You ………………………………...37

  4. Bullet …………………………………………51

  5. Rolling in the Deep …………………………..63

  6. One and Only/Ellie …………………………..93

  7. One and Only/Mitch ………………………....101

  8. Some Nights ………………………………….105

  9. Pictures of You ………………………………113

  10. Starting All Over Again …………………….119

  11. Bed of Roses ………………………………..127

  12. Dying ain’t much of a Living……………….135

  Part two:

  Non-byte shorts.

  1. Mo Mhuirnin ………………………………..153

  2. I’ll Be Waiting ………………………………201

  3. The Bells of Freedom………………………..209

  4. Coming Home..……………………………....221

  Part One:

  1. Back Door Santa

  Oh, man this sucks.

  I heard the announcement again. Un-freaking-cool people. Five hours in the air and now this?

  There is no way – carousel three, my ass.

  Kurt waved and walked over to meet me.

  “Did you hear that? Carousel freaking three?”

  “I did.”

  I looked at Kurt. His head shook vehemently. “No way.”

  “Please?”

  “No.”

  “But if I have to walk for ten minutes over there, go down the fuc’n huge escalator twice and get on a fuc’n train then go up another fuc’n escalator and walk for ten minutes just to get my bag someone is going to get hurt.”

  Kurt’s head tipped back, his laughter bounced across the floor in front of me then suddenly stopped, absorbed by the seething array of people all walking toward the escalator.

  “Come on, we’ll go together.”

  My head was shaking but my feet were walking. Traitors.

  “This is not going to end well,” I muttered at Kurt as he stepped upside me. “Already these ‘tards are getting in my way.”

  “Those ‘tards as you so delightfully put it, are the people who shared your flight, the very people we are supposed to protect.”

  “I tried to protect them, but you insist I walk for freaking miles…”

  “As long as it’s my fault, I’m sure we can live with it.”

  “Didn’t my bag and I arrive on the same plane at the same gate?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why do I get off here.” I gesticulate wildly back toward the gate I’d emerged from. “And my bag end up six miles away?”

  He had no answer. I watched him flounder as the first escalator ride ended. “Bit of an exaggeration don’t you think?”

  That was the best he could do?

  “Nope. We arrived at the same gate – and yet I have to travel down escalators, on a train, up escalators and walk forever just to pick up my bag…”

  “Okay, point made. But Dulles is an attractive airport, and if you didn’t have to go so far you’d miss the experience that is Dulles.”

  My eyes rolled so far back in my head I couldn’t see to walk for a few seconds. Travel documentary much?

  “Maybe someone should open the thing up to the public as an art gallery and put the baggage carrousels in a more passenger friendly place.”

  Kurt stepped off the escalator two steps ahead of me and waited.

  I spotted a cop about ten feet away.

  Kurt turned but it was too late I was already heading for the cop while pulling my badge over my head.

  “Ma’am,” the police officer exclaimed as I showed him my badge. “How can I help?”

  “Find a way of getting my bag from carousal three to me here within the next two minutes.”

  His jaw dropped. He stepped back. His mouth snapped closed then fell open again. “Ma’am?”

  “Yes?”

  “Why?”

  I sighed. “Because I don’t want to walk all the way down there when both my bag and I were on the same flight that arrived at the same gate and I have a job to do – it’s not to see the sights of Dulles airport for the fifteenth time this year.”

  Its Christmas Eve eve. I promised Carla I’d be home for Christmas. Guess being trapped in the airport counts as almost home.

  “I can’t do that ma’am.”

  Yes, I know that you dork. That’s why we’re still walking. But why are you still walking? I had a thought, it was uncharitable, mean spirited even.

  “Do you know Eddie Connelly?” My ex-brother-in-law was a deputy once, before being ousted for nearly killing someone on a crosswalk. True to form, he was drunk, in uniform and driving a marked car at the time.

  Kurt leaned close to my ear and murmured, “Stop playing with him. It’s not his fault.”

  I smiled at the cop and ignored Kurt.

  “You do know Eddie don’t you?”

  “Yes ma’am, he’s a friend of mine.”

  I knew in that instance that nothing I said to the officer was going to make any difference.

  He classed Eddie as a friend.

  Stupid was probably his middle name.

  “As you were officer.”

  I glanced at Kurt. His shoulders shook as he struggled to compose himself.

  The cop carried on walking with us. Kurt intervened, “No need to escort us officer. We can handle it from here.”

  He faltered, his jaw dropped again. I reached out and tapped his chin thus closing his mouth.

  “Tell Eddie I said Merry Christmas,” I called as he turned and walked in the opposite direction. I couldn’t believe I offered a Merry Christmas to Eddie. Must be the holiday season softening my brain or maybe it was the five-hour flight.

  Kurt tried not to laugh.

  “You are impossible,” he said with a grin.

  “And yet you love me,” I whispered under my breath.

  “Let’s get the bags and get on with the holidays,” Kurt said. He gave no indication of having heard my comment.

  An hour later Kurt entered the gate code and pulled up my driveway. In the dull late winter afternoon, Christmas lights twinkled
from the trees that lined the path to the house.

  “You coming in?” I asked as I opened the car door.

  “No, you go spend time with Carla. I’ve got some things to do this afternoon.” We said goodbye.

  An hour later I’d unpacked, and was on my second coffee. I wrote a last minute list of Christmas things I still needed to get. I then promptly lost the list while trying to get ready to leave the house.

  I checked the living rooms expecting it to be on a coffee table somewhere. It wasn’t.

  “Honey, have you seen my list?”

  “On the kitchen counter, Mom,” Carla called from down the hall.

  I tripped over the cat almost spilling the precious black liquid in my mug.

  “Shrek, keep out of the way,” I growled hurrying into the kitchen. Sure enough, the notepad with list still attached was on the counter. Bite marks and needle like punctures decorated the bottom of the list.

  Shrek.

  Carla bounced into the room.

  “You ready?” I asked checking the list. Twice.

  “Yes, Mom.”

  I glanced at her.

  “Let’s try that again. Jacket, hat, scarf, gloves?”

  “It’s too hot in the mall,” she complained.

  “Jacket then.” I’m all about compromise if it means we can get going.

  She smiled. “Okay.”

  My phone rang.

  Carla squawked. “Don’t answer it!”

  Tempting.

  “I must, you know that.”

  The screen flashed with Sam’s name. I almost crossed myself. Please don’t let it be a case, not this close to Christmas. Not again.

  “Hey Sam.”

  “Hey…” He paused, cleared his throat, and continued, “Glad you’re home Chicky babe.”

  “Uh huh.”

  It didn’t sound good.

  “How was San Francisco?”

  “Good.”

  Okay as good as it can ever be when someone asks for my help with a case.

  We won; even so several innocent people lost their lives. “Did you call to ask me about San Fran?”

  “No.” He paused. “Are you taking Carla shopping?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fair Oaks Mall?”

  “Yes.”

  “Me and Lee will meet you for coffee at Starbucks in an hour. That’s downstairs by the Apple store?”

  “Yes it is.” I heard no stressors in his voice. Nothing in the background noises indicated trouble. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, we’ll see you at the mall. Talk then.”

  Curious.

  “An hour?”

  “Yes.”

  I hung up and pocketed my phone. The odd phone call stayed with me as Carla twirled around the kitchen.

  “Can we go?” she asked.

  “Yep.”

  I grabbed my keys, list, and handbag. I mulled over Sam’s call. A potential problem. My hand slid to my hip. Reassured by the feel of my gun I pressed thoughts of the phone call aside.

  Alone at the front door I turned and called out, “Waiting on you kiddo.” She hurried toward me from the kitchen with a sandwich in her hand.

  Hungry as always.

  Snowflakes tumbled from the sky. I hoped they would stop. Driving in snow is not as much fun as it used to be. Back when I was ten foot tall and bullet proof, pre-Carla. Kids change you.

  I parked in the Seers parking lot.

  “Remember which entrance we used Carla or we’ll be trapped here all day.”

  Carla laughed. “Yeah because the parking lot is full of federal cars.”

  “Smarty pants.”

  The mall was over warm as usual. Outside the jewelers, Carla asked for cash.

  I am now an ATM for a teenager. Not only did she ask for cash but she also disappeared with it. I used the opportunity to shop in peace and find a few extra things for Carla’s stocking and get Sam and Lee their gifts. Ticking things off. I grabbed a coffee from Caribou while I was upstairs. When I strolled to the Apple store shopping bags dangling from one hand and my delicious Caribou coffee in the other, I found Sam and Lee at the Starbucks across from Apple, drinking coffee and seated at a table.

  “Okay so what’s going on,” I said slipping into the empty chair.

  “What are you getting Kurt for Christmas?” Sam asked pushing his cup in circles.

  “Seriously?”

  This is the problem?

  Lee nodded.

  “What do we get Kurt?” Sam asked tapping his cup.

  “He’s not that difficult.” I pulled my list out. Kurt’s name sat there ringed in red with a big question mark after it. “Okay he is.”

  “Come on Chicky, you know him better than us. He’s your partner.”

  “You’d think but I just spend more time with him than either of you. He doesn’t share much.”

  “Crap,” Lee groaned.

  “We’re investigators. So we investigate,” I said. How hard can it be?

  Lee’s eye lit up.

  “Anyone ever been to his house?” Lee asked.

  Sam and I stared at him. My mind tumbled over the events of the last few years.

  He always comes to us.

  “Hang on. We do Sunday dinners every two weeks… are you telling me we’ve never done Sunday dinner at Kurt’s place?” I asked.

  “Can you remember going to his house for Sunday dinner?” Lee turned it back on me.

  I shook my head. How the hell he managed to weasel out of having us all at his place was anyone’s guess.

  “What music does he like?” I asked.

  “No, no, no, that’s your department Chicky,” Sam replied.

  “We’re screwed,” I said finishing my coffee. “Field trip,” Lee announced. “We’re going to Kurt’s.”

  “Ballsy,” I replied.

  “Where’s Carla?” Lee asked scanning the mall near us.

  “I’ll call her.”

  She answered her cell quickly with a question. “Mom what do I get Kurt?”

  “Ah, the question of the hour. Are you done?”

  “Yeah, apart from Kurt.”

  “Meet me at Starbucks, ground floor by the information center and Apple.”

  “Coming.”

  I hung up.

  When Carla arrived, a fiendish plan hatched.

  Carla, Sam, Lee, and I piled into my car. I pulled over a block away from Kurt’s home and called Kurt’s house.

  No answer.

  I called his direct dial at work. Not his cell, you can answer a cell anywhere. I wanted to know where he was.

  He answered on the third ring. He was at his desk.

  “Ellie? You need something?”

  “Nah, not really. Just wondered if you’d like to come over for dinner tonight?” My fingers crossed all by themselves.

  He paused, I knew he digesting my invitation. “Sure, what time? I’m just finishing up some paper work.”

  I checked my watch. It was just after four.

  “Seven?”

  “Should be done by then, but I’ll probably come straight from work. Shall I pick up a bottle of wine?”

  “Sounds great. See you then.”

  “He’s not home, so we can’t visit,” Carla sounded disappointed. I smiled.

  So young, so innocent.

  “Now what?” Sam asked.

  “You and Carla stay here. Lee and I will do some recon.”

  “Here?” Carla asked.

  “Yep.”

  With a wave, Lee and I headed off up the street. We walked casually up the path to Kurt’s front door. His porch was in full view of the neighbors. No trees, shrubs or even a fence to provide cover. Nowhere to hide. I wondered if there was an alarm system.

  Lee peered into the window beside the door.

  “Can’t see an alarm panel,” Lee said.

  “Good.”

  There was no outward advertising if there was an alarm. I glanced around the street was quiet.

  N
o curtains moved.

  It was possible that all his neighbors worked.

  “Keep watch,” I said to Lee.

  He turned and faced the street, blocking me from view of anyone looking.

  From my pocket, I pulled a small leather case and took two thin pieces of metal, never leave home without a lock pick, gun, and clean underwear.

  I tumbled the lock and swung the door open.

  “After you,” I said standing aside and letting Lee through the door.

  “Let’s hope there is no alarm.”

  “Or camera,” I replied following him in and closing the door.

  We stood in a surprisingly spacious entranceway. Doors opened off the almost octagonal area. By the front door was a table. On the table, a bowl and a letter rack. No mail waited. I looked closely at the bowl noting tiny chips and cracks.

  “He keeps his keys here,” I aid indicating to the bowl. In my mind, I saw Kurt walk in the front door and drop his keys into the bowl then check his mail or set it in the letter rack for later.

  “This is a really nice place,” Lee commented. “Let’s get snooping.”

  I should’ve felt bad but I didn’t. I was breaking laws and several friendship codes yet I didn’t feel guilt. Maybe I didn’t feel guilt because being a lapsed catholic I was so used to guilt it no longer registered?

  I found the living room. Tasteful, comfortable, and tidy. It was as I expected. Photographs lined the walls, some old, some recent, all interesting. Some candid shots of Delta team members and what I thought may have been family shots mingled with amazing scenery in black and white.

  He was quite the photographer.

  My eyes fell on a stack of CD’s.

  It looked like something from my place. Lorenza Ponce, Grange, Bon Jovi, Aerosmith, Rolling Stones, the Eagles, and some Queen. The order intrigued me. I knew that order. It was my preferred order when listening to those particular albums.

  Okay he had good taste in music. Moving on.

  Lee called me from another room. I followed the sound of his voice to another room. Books lined two walls, floor to ceiling, there was a fireplace and a comfortable looking leather sofa and an old oak desk. A library.