Home Alone...

Ann knew what was coming. She was doing nothing now but waiting for the telephone to ring. She knew it would ring. She didn’t know when but she knew it would ring soon. She went into the kitchen. She considered making coffee but decided not to. What she would like right now was a beer. She was on duty and knew she shouldn’t drink, not even one beer, but the desire for an alcoholic beverage built up in her and she remembered she had bought a six pack of Bud Light a few days earlier and hadn’t had one yet.

“What the Hell,” she said aloud, “Who’d know?” and she opened the refrigerator door. For a moment she didn’t reach for the beer, she only stared at it. Something wasn’t right. Something wasn’t as it should be but her brain was having trouble trying to relay the appropriate information to her consciousness to provide an answer as to what was wrong.

Then a chill started over her. Her forehead turned cold and tiny beads of perspiration formed along her hairline. She felt herself shiver and felt weak in her legs. She left the refrigerator door open and quickly backed to a chair and sat down. She couldn’t stop staring at the beer. A tiny charge of energy flashed through her brain; ‘A beer is missing!’ A beer was gone and she hadn’t taken it. She had not drunk any of the beers but one was missing from the six-pack!

“Oh, God,” she said aloud as she was prone to do when things happened that she couldn’t control, “What is going on?” The question already had an answer that she wished not to acknowledge. It was starting all over again.



Ann jumped up from the chair and headed toward the living room just as the phone rang. Unconsciously she glanced at her watch. It had been exactly half an hour since the phone had rung earlier.

“He’s right on time,” she said and picked up the receiver.

“Detective Barton,” Ann said and waited for an answer.

A voice answered, “Hello, Detective Barton.”

“You son of a bitch!” she said, “Who in hell do you think you are? You’ve been in my house. I’ll blow your ass away if I ever see you! Meet me somewhere, you coward and let’s see what you are made of!”

There was silence; only Ann’s heavy breathing could be heard.

Ann waited. She listened for the click of the phone being hung up. None came. She started to speak again when the voice said, “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. Now you know what to do.” And the voice was gone.

Detective Ann Barton did know what to do. And now a sense of relief came over her. The waiting was over; her task had been assigned to her and she felt much better.

Back at the station house the chief sat at his desk, deep in thought. Strange things had been happening and he had no idea why. His mind went back in time to where he perceived the strange happenings to have started. It was true; the events of the Tulla City Police and Sheriff’s departments were unusual, from the advent of the consolidation of the two official departments into one department, right up to the demolition of Billy Thompson’s house. But what was the specific event that would explain these weird occurrences that had been happening?



First, he had been elected High Sheriff. Then, when the police chief died, he was appointed temporary chief because of the considerable in-fighting for the job by the other police officers. Then the City Council voted to make his dual position permanent. Next Billy Thompson, the forces’ youngest officer was hired. Then Ann Barton, the force’s only woman cop, somehow solved the Ben Abbot murder case that had been unsolved for four years and she received a commendation for that and was promoted to detective by Mayor Rafton for doing that. Then the mayor had been killed while sitting in his car. Then Ann Barton’s car had been totaled for no apparent reason by someone from Fowler. Then Billy Thompson’s house was blown up and burned down. Then, without a word, Billy left town. Now Ann was acting weird.

The sheriff was torn between trying to figure out what the problem was and just trying to forget the whole thing. He was the kind of person who felt an obligation to help anyone who needed help whenever he could but this situation was unique. This situation, whatever it was, seemed beyond his control and understanding.

Then he made a silent decision; he would get back to work and disregard everything that had anything to do with Billy. He hoped that would include any involvement Ann had with Billy’s problems. Having made that decision, he reached for a cross word puzzle book and picked up a pencil. Now he could relax.

Ann knew want she had to do now. She began to gather sacks and boxes she would need to hold the things she needed to collect. In her mind she was already sorting and indexing the things she would collect. From here on she would have to be very careful not to be too conspicuous. She would have to work quietly and spend much of her own time doing what she knew had to do.

For the next few weeks Ann Barton collected paraphernalia from everyone she could think of who was in any way connected with Mayor Rafton. She had articles of clothing, movie theater ticket stubs from a couple of his friends, photos of acquaintances that she managed to acquire and other various and sundry articles she came by one way and another. She had the original schedules of civil ceremonies that had been attended by the mayor and his associates. She had credit card gas purchase receipts for every officer on the force. She had so many different things from so many different people that it took her several hours to list and index it all. After it all was listed and placed in separate piles, she got a container for each pile. After the containers were filled, she placed all of them in two garbage bags and twisted the tops and tied them shut. Then she waited.



Ann Barton was at her desk this Monday morning, doodling on a piece of paper. She looked at squiggles, squares, straight lines and swirls that she had made on the paper with her ball point pen. They looked like the ones she used to make in the third grade when she practiced her penmanship. What a long time ago that was. She wondered if people regressed back to earlier, more carefree times when they doodled like this. She wondered if those earlier times were, indeed, more carefree. She could remember being anxious about whether or not the squiggles and lines she made in her practice were good enough to please her teacher. A little lump formed in her throat thinking about it and she felt a deep sigh start. It was an audible sigh and long; long enough to attract the attention of Mel Vernon who was sitting nearby.

“With a big old sigh like that, you must be thinking about your lost love; you know, Billy what’s-his-name,” he said and laughed loudly.

This brought Ann out of her reverie and she looked up with a grin.

“Not in this lifetime.” She replied. “No, I was just thinking about my childhood when I went to grammar school. I guess I had it made then and didn’t even know it.”

“Mel,” Ann asked, “If you could go back to your childhood, do you think you would? You know, be six again or eight, - like that?”

“No way,” said Mel. “I used to get my ass whipped about every day when I was a kid. My old man was a drunk and nothing pleased him more than to slap us around when he’d had a couple.”

“My mom and sister still have scars from the old bastard beating on them. No, I don’t miss any of that. I like where I am right now!”

“That’s good,” said Ann. “I sure like your wife. She’s sweet. And you couldn’t ask for a better friend than Charlie.” Ann referred to Charlie Ford, another officer and a very close friend to Mel and Lois Vernon.

“Yeah, it couldn’t be any better.”



Ann and Mel were both deep in their thoughts and both jumped when the phone rang. Mel grabbed it quickly.

“Officer Vernon,” said Mel. “May I help you?”

“Can I talk to Detective Barton?” a voice asked.

“Can I say who’s calling?” asked Mel.

“She’ll know,” the voice said.

Mel covered the mouthpiece and told Ann the call was for her and she knew who it was.

Ann picked up her phone and said,” This is detective Barton.”

“Take everything to the same place before midnight tonight,” the voice said then hung up the phone.

Ann slowly put the phone back in its cradle. How could he know she was finished with her collecting? She saw Mel looking a question at her and she said,” It must have been some prankster. He told me to have a happy holiday.”

“It takes all kinds,” Mel said, and chuckled.



That night Ann loaded everything she had collected into the trunk of her car and drove to the place she had been the first time this happened. It was out the highway a mile and then left on a dirt road for a half mile or so to an abandoned share-croppers shack. She unloaded the bags into the shack and left. She didn’t bother looking around. She knew she would see no one there.



The next day Ann got to the station earlier than usual and parked in the back parking lot. She opened the office door and went in. It was just before five and still dark and very quiet. It was cool this morning so Ann found the thermostat and set it at 70%. She vaguely heard the furnace start and, a few moments later, heard the blower kick on. It was a good quality furnace and in a few minutes the station was comfortably warm.

She sat at her desk and pondered what to do next. She knew there would be nothing she could do until she got another call from the ‘voice’. Still she considered asking a few questions of the other officers, just to get everyone ready for whatever would happen next.

She wondered who had the dispatch duty tonight. She checked the schedule and found it was Charlie Ford. He would be getting here in a short while, she knew. The person who drew dispatch duty was usually the first to arrive at the station the next morning.

Because of the small size of the police force, especially now with the loss of Billy Thompson, the station house closed each evening (usually around eight o’clock) and the officers took turns acting as police dispatchers in case something happened or someone needed their assistance. The stations’ dispatch number was forwarded to the night dispatchers’ home phone. Each officer had a direct link with the chiefs’ special home dispatch number. This special number was a separate line he had installed for this purpose only. And only his officers had the special number.



Ann hadn’t long to wait. A car’s headlights lit the front of the station and swung in to the curb. In a few seconds Charlie Ford got out of his car and walked across the sidewalk to the station door. Ann could see his head tilted sideways, trying to look through the front blinds to see who was already there. He took the door latch in his hand and twisted it sharply, expecting it to open. It didn’t. Ann hadn’t unlocked the front door. Charlie became quickly alert and backed away from the door and to the side. He hesitated for an instant then drew his pistol as he ducked low at the window and peered between the Venetian blinds and into the office. He listened intently for any sound from inside or from behind him.

A shadow crossed in front of his face and he knew someone was inside and headed toward the door. He stood quickly and moved to the side of the door, careful to stay out of sight. He took a shooter’s stance with his revolver held with both hands. The door opened and he heard a woman’s’ voice say,” Charlie, is that you?”

Charlie just now realized he had been holding his breath. He let it out very slowly and quietly. He felt his body loosen as if a taut rubber band had been released. The little beads of perspiration that had formed on his forehead dissolved and disappeared. Very carefully and with almost no motion Charlie slipped his pistol back into it’s holster. Then, as casually as he could manage, he stepped out into sight and said,”Yeah, it’s me. I saw the lights on and started around back to see if the back door had been left open and the lights left on all night.”

Ann would never know what Charlie had just experienced; the fear he had felt as he readied himself for combat with an unseen foe. Normally Charlie was very easy-going and at ease with his job but so many weird things had been happening lately that, subconsciously, he now seemed always to be on edge.

As Charlie started into the office, Ann stepped back and walked to her desk.

“Sorry I didn’t unlock the door,” she said. “I just didn’t think of it.”

“No problem,” said Charlie. “You’re here awfully early. Couldn’t sleep, huh?”

“Something like that,” she said.

“I bet we’d all be surprised to know how many times some of us come here to the office at night or get here early for one reason or another,” Charlie said. “I know I stop by sometimes at night just to be doing something. Sometimes I look at records of things that happen that we can’t figure out. Like old man Rafton being killed. You know, there has to be a reason for that happening. But who knows what it is. Someone does and sooner or later it’ll come out.”

As an afterthought he added with a chuckle,” Maybe you can solve that one, too.”

Ann’s face reddened slightly but she said nothing. She knew that Charlie’s comment was the kind that required no reply.



Charlie sat quietly, thinking of what had just happened and of the conversation that followed. The little adventure he had just experienced had left him with a heightened sense of consciousness. He realized now how exciting it had been. The excitement he felt would carry him along for as long as he let it. And he now realized that he loved the feeling.

And the conversation was unique for Charlie Ford. It was more than he had said to anyone besides Mel and Lois Vernon for a long time. He had revealed something about himself that no one knew. He had let Ann Barton into his mind, if only for a second. He never did that with anyone. Unbeknown to Charlie, Mel had done the same thing the day before.

And he knew there was something that had been unsaid here by Ann. Somehow he felt that she knew more about some things here at the station than she would say.

Somehow he felt that, if the killer of the mayor was ever caught, Detective Ann Barton would be involved. She might even be the one to solve the case, just like she solved the Abbot murder. No one knows yet how she solved that one and she wasn’t talking.

The sun was up and the other officers started coming to work. The Chief came in first and was vaguely surprised to see Ann already there.

“Couldn’t sleep, huh?” he said to Ann. Charlie grinned at Ann and said,” Sounds like an echo in here.”
Smiling at the Chief, Ann said,” That’s the same thing Charlie asked me.”
“Anything on the docket for today?” Ann asked the Chief.
He looked at her intently for a second then said, “It’s funny you should ask. I got a call from the State Attorney General yesterday. It seems there is a seminar on crime solving techniques scheduled for two and a half weeks from now in Philly. It’ll start that Friday at eight and last all day. You’d need to go up Thursday night and then stay the night Friday after the seminar. I reserved a room at the Fremont Hotel. It’s room 212. The seminar is being held in the Fremont Hotel Conference room. Detective Barton, I’m thinking about sending you...”