Paranoia got the best of him, but in a good way. He’d seen shows where bad cops snuck into a person’s home to plant false evidence. That was something he wanted to avoid. The owner of the office building had it set up with four cameras on the corners sweeping in an arc, and one closeup lens over the door.
Dean felt the need for one in his office, so he got a small camera that he set in the southeast corner of the room. It was behind and to the right of the desk, and its fisheye lens had … [READ MORE]
As you can see from the title this is about some challenges you may face in writing, and since I’m writing about them, you are correct that I’ve fallen afoul of them and continue to an extent to be influenced by them. The first and biggest challenge is my own imagination.
What I mean by my imagination being a problem is, well, too much of it projecting all sorts of great things happening, and all sorts of bad things happening to me. Good things like recognition, respect, maybe even a best-seller list are things that would be wonderful to have … [READ MORE]
Dean stood up and made sure he could see Vlad as he trotted home. He dropped back to avoid looking like he was following as the young man strode down the side of the road. When Vlad slowed to cross Tilton Street at the light, Dean dropped in a crouch and pulled the lid off of a small trash can luckily near him. Vlad waited until the north-south light changed and crossed, moving south. Dean ran across through traffic that was sitting at the light.
The horns beeped angrily at him but he paid them no mind since Vlad had … [READ MORE]
“Can I take a picture of those pages? I won’t show them to anyone, not without your permission.”
Jeff didn’t say a word. he reached down and spun the book around. Dean snapped the open page showing Vlad’s missed work and the reason, then took a picture of the May date, and for good measure, turned to the time four days ago, and snapped a picture of it.
He turned the book back around. Jeff grabbed the book and slapped it shut. He had a stricken look as the possibility that Vlad was the kidnapper sunk in.
His eyes rose … [READ MORE]
He pulled up in front of his office. A yellow furniture van sat in front of his office. The back end was open, with boxes and a few large crates waiting on the ramp to be rolled into his office. Dean unlocked the door and pushed both glass doors wide. A couple rocks held the doors for the movers to bring the new furniture in.
As the movers shifted items into the proper rooms, Dean looked over the paper sheets he’d gotten. The two girls were close to the same age, and only a grade apart from Maren. Both were … [READ MORE]
Dean sighed. It was a lot more information than he’d had before coming here. Now if he could find a way to get Vlad to talk to him, he might come out with a solid lead where Maren was. It’s sure a hella lot more than I started with.
“Thank you. That helps me more than you can know.”
“I’m glad that I could help you, young man. It makes up for some of the…difficulties…we’ve had today.” Madge smiled.
“I’ll be going now, ma’am. I have a convenience store clerk to talk to.”
Madge nodded. “Take care, young man. Best … [READ MORE]
Dean returned the smile with his own. “I was wondering if I could look at your security camera footage. I’m looking for a missing person.” He pulled out his wallet and showed the woman his investigator’s license. Her eyes grew large as she looked it over.
“A private investigator! Oh, how exciting. Are you working on a case, mister….” she peered again at the license, “Youngwood?”
“Ah, yes, I am. Now about your cam…”
She slipped an arm through his so quickly, Dean didn’t have a chance to do much other than blink in surprise as she started to pull … [READ MORE]
The man, Jeff, as his name tag indicated, looked at Dean like he knew it was a dodge. “Listen, you looking for him because he stiffed you or something? I know him and he wouldn’t do stuff like that. He’s a good worker. Polite and conscientious. He’s never caused any trouble.”
Dean nodded then pulled out his investigator’s license, and showed it to the man. “I’m looking for a missing girl. This guy is described as the last one who might have seen her. Is there a name and address I can get from you so I can talk to … [READ MORE]
Dean tidied up the last bit of his writeup for the job he’d finished. The runaway was in the hands of social services, while her dad was in divorce proceedings with her mom. Neither parent seemed inclined to put her welfare above theirs. Both were in fact, so dysfunctional that Dean had actually contacted social services for the girl after meeting her parents.
I never thought helping would be something like that. What are those people thinking? Whatever it is, it sure doesn’t include their daughter.
He finished the writing, then transcribed it to an official report on the computer. … [READ MORE]
Dean sat in his old black Jeep CJ, waiting for the bail-jumper to appear. The mobile homes had all seen better days. Many had paint peeling away from the aluminum siding, while a few had plywood covering windows. Few people moved about. The neighborhood had the broken, desperate feel of poverty and privation. His Jeep was old, but a cut above the average vehicle around here. Most that he saw in crumbling cement driveways were dented and rusting.
The job was to track down a three-time bail jumper who had gang connections. Dean had proven to be a good skip-tracer. … [READ MORE]