Teaser Tuesday ~ Angela Deppler ~ Wendigo
About the Author:
I am a native from Clarksville, Tn. I have worked for the police department at the local college for more than sixteen years. Most of that time has been spent as the midnight dispatcher. I’m divorced and live with one fully grown daughter and seven cats (3 are fosters! I swear!) I’ve always loved the paranormal, aliens and Star Trek. (who doesn’t love Spock?) Storytelling/writing has always been a love of mine. I’ve written poems and stories as far back as I can remember and love mixing the paranormal and humor. It’s always been a life goal to become a real live published author. Solstice Publishing helped accomplish that goal. One goal down, about a zillion to go.
More than mosquitoes are eating the good folks of Springfield, Tennessee.
Joshua Constance, a detective for Nashville Metro PD gets asked to help Evan Stovall, a sheriff of a small town called Springfield, catch a killer that’s eating its prey. It’s a case where the dead are piling up and the killer can’t be caught. For Evan and Josh, with the help of Josh’s dead partner, Bruce Miller, and a sometimes angel named Brad, the chase is on and there’s Hell to pay.
"I don't care how many people lose their jobs Marty! I want that damned factory closed! You and I both know that everything made there can be made faster and cheaper...Just do it Marty!" Victoria cut the connection and threw the I-phone onto the seat next to her and swerved onto highway 616 and cutting off a little Prius in the process. The wheels of her BMW squealed in protest at the rough handling. The phone rang and she glanced over at it, grabbing it up and thumbing the connection open.
"Maria, I told you...then call a repairman, it's what you’re paid to do!" She tossed the phone onto the seat again. It bounced slightly and slid to the floor. Victoria cursed and reached to get it. She scrabbled for a moment until her fingers closed around the phone then straightened and flung it onto the seat again, screaming as she glanced out the windshield to see a large black mass in the road. She threw up her hands to protect her eyes as the front of the BMW impacted...nothing. She blinked and grabbed for the steering wheel again and glanced into the rear view to where the ...thing had been. The view was blocked by the black mass in her back seat. Victoria Summons screamed as the car exploded.
The news flashed up a picture obviously taken from a helicopter, showing black smoke billowing off of a car in flames, the newsman’s voice droning on over the burning wreck. “Victoria Summons of Summons Industries was hospitalized following a one car accident. Ms. Summons apparently lost control of her 2014 BMW while driving down highway 616 near Springfield earlier today. Witnesses said she had appeared to be speeding and driving recklessly when the
accident occurred. Local 911 logs confirm that at least one call was made of her running a local man off the road. Ms Summons was life-flighted to Vanderbilt where she remains in critical condition. More on the story at ten. And now, the weather.”
Joshua Constance flipped off the television and stood up. A lot of changes had occurred after Chief Langston and Bruce Miller had been killed. A few people were fired. A lot of people went to jail. A new Chief had been hired and Josh had been promoted to fill Bruce’s spot as detective. People still shifted their eyes away and avoided the subject around him. The newspapers and television stations had made a circus of the event. That’s how Josh classified it. It was “The Event”. He knew it was just a coping method to handle the grief of losing his best friend but, until he could sort through and come to grips with everything, “The Event” would have to stay carefully packed away in his memory.
Josh toed the box from Bruce's locker at work that he’d been sorting through. It was the first of the boxes he needed to sort out. Bruce Miller’s will had been specific. Take care of his fish, toss what needed to be tossed, donate what could be donated to the shelters and set up trusts for the girls.
Josh and his family had been as close to family as Bruce had had at the time of his death. Josh had arranged the funeral but had been shocked when he’d received the letter from the lawyer stating that Bruce had left everything to him and Marie and the girls. Josh had played merry hell with the insurance company to get the insurance policy on the house to pay off but now, a year later, the house was rebuilt, the three life insurance policies had paid and placed into trust for the girls and Josh was left sorting through the detritus that Bruce left behind. The fire that destroyed Bruce’s house hadn’t left much to be sorted through. There were some things Bruce had stored off site at a you-rent storage facility and a few things that had been in a detached shed behind the house.
Boxes for clothing stood open and ready to receive the civilian clothes. A second box already held some of Bruce’s old uniforms that had been at the cleaners or in his locker at work. Marie had assured Josh that she would remove the patches and put them away.
Police uniforms, even old ones had to be handled differently from civilian clothes. It wouldn’t do to have some nut get hold of an old uniform from a second hand store and start playing cop. Things like that looked bad for the department, and the department already had one hellacious black eye from the Event.
Josh picked up several gun locks and dropped them onto the bed. The FBI had already returned the guns and they were currently locked in the gun safe hidden in his closet. Bruce’s gun safe had been moved to Josh’s basement where his man cave was. He’d take the locks and the guns downstairs where they belonged. He packed Bruce’s gun cleaning kit into a large plastic baggie then dropped it onto the bed beside the locks. It too was destined for the man cave.
Marie hated for him to clean his weapons in the bedroom. She claimed it made the room smell like gun oil. Personally, he liked the smell of gun oil, but life was easier if Marie got her way.
He picked up an evidence envelope and shook out a pair of silver and black cufflinks and stopped cold. It had been almost year ago that he had given them to Bruce. The cufflinks, with their hidden thumb drives had been evidence in one of the biggest kidnapping/child pornography rings ever busted in recent history. Josh sighed and slipped the cufflinks into his pocket. They were empty now, reformatted by the FBI to remove any copies of any evidence they had contained before they’d been returned to him. That was okay with Josh. The evidence had been beyond awful. The information on those cufflinks had provided enough evidence to bring charges and arrests for a lot of people, including a local congressman that had been running on a platform of stronger punishments for sex offenders. Needless to say, he lost his backers and found new accommodations in jail. He and several of his fellow sickos had made bail almost immediately and then disappeared. Josh figured they were now hiding out in Brazil somewhere. That was the last case he and Bruce had worked on together, and they uncovered it by accident. He had been working a series of car burglaries and Bruce had been working a home invasion case that had escalated to rape and murder. Neither had figured to wind up finding evidence to clear off more than three dozen missing person cases, take a dozen pedophiles off the streets and bust up a child kidnapping/rape/murder ring. Josh felt his throat tighten. They hadn’t known one of them would wind up dead either. Josh swallowed and returned to packing.
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