Robert Waggoner - John - The Senior Killer

Burberry felt alone and relaxed from the barely noticeable sounds of the rain slamming against the windows as by now the storm was showing it stuff. He closed his eyes and saw the red dots of eye strain blinking like stars in the night. At sixty he wasn’t young anymore, but like his wife told him he was as active as a young man fresh from boot camp. That is when he met her when he was on leave out of boot camp in South Carolina. It was summer time and some of his friends were going swimming and he needed some swim trucks. A smile crossed his face as he flashed back walking into the boutique along the sea shore. She was helping another customer as he perused the swim trunks. The next thing he knew after she asked him if she could help him find something, he turned and looked into her deep brown eyes and white teeth.

He never went swimming with the boys, but on her days off and at night he swam with her. A year later they were married and for the last thirty five years it was mostly a happy marriage with two kids now grown and gone with their own lives and careers leaving just the two of them home alone.

A voice saying, “Steve how about some tea,” woke him from his subconscious dream. Standing next to the stove stood the man he hoped could bring security and comfort back to California.

“Yes, I would love some,” as he stood up and took off his over coat and handed it to Brad. As Steve watched Brad he thought his looks never changed. His tall lean body was as fit today as he knew it years ago. Brad hung it up next to the alcove and returned to the low table sitting down cross legged and waited for his guest to do the same. Sujin came up wearing sweat pants and a T shirt that said, “I love the Beach” across the front of it. She was small like most Asian women, but under her sweats hard muscled legs matched her upper body from years of yoga and Tai Chi left their mark. Steve knew her prowess in martial arts as one time strolling on the beach with Brad, she told him some of her back ground, but only enough to leave him with the knowledge she could and can take care of herself in a time of need.

Sujin poured the tea and sat down next to her husband. Like most Asian women she rarely made eye contact with anyone but someone she knew well and in this case with Steve, she knew only too well. Every time they met he had a job that needed their attention. She busied herself with tea and biscuits waiting for the formal discussion to begin. Steve commented on the nice taste of the tea and biscuits and asked forgiveness for intruding on their hospitality. Meaningless words she thought knowing full well they would be on a job again very soon. She was in the middle of a photo layout and was scheduled to fly to Seoul for a showing. Now she would have to postpone because she would not let him take on any job without her help. Brad would make the usual noises about her going on to Seoul without worrying about him, but his words were not sincere. He needed her and she needed him. Their relationship was built on trust and friendship for the mutual good of both.

Ever since Pakistan they were a team reading each other’s mind like they knew each other for a life time instead of only a few weeks once he healed from his wound. After being airlifted out of Pakistan to India, thanks to the Indian government they spent the next three months basking on the beaches and practicing Yoga and studying Far Eastern religions while his wound healed.

Tea and biscuits consumed Brad waited for Steve to speak. His formal upbringing military style held true through his thirty five years on earth. He figured if he listened he would learn more and a listener was always at an advantage because the listener could think while the speaker could only talk. A small advantage, but an advantage nonetheless. Steve was wearing a sports coat and from an inside pocket he drew out a folded paper. He passed it to Brad and it was a brief note of only a few sentences. In essence it said the governor of California wanted to meet him soonest. Brad said, “What is this about Steve?”

Steve said, “I’m sure you are aware of the serial killer stalking Southern California. He or she has killed another one yesterday and that brings the total to eight in six months. I’ll not bore you with why the FBI hasn’t a lead since the first senior citizen was murdered in Barstow. In my briefcase in the car I have all the latest files on this case and the bottom line is our government wants you to solve this case before we lose many more senior citizens to this mad person. As you know, seniors carry a lot of weight these days politically and economically. The president yesterday had a special meeting with the FBI director and when the director came out of the meeting half his butt was missing. Sorry Sujin, but that’s a quote form the secret service guy who escorted him off the premise.” Steve sat back and moved his cramped legs for some blood circulation for the unorthodox method of sitting on the floor.

Brad noticed and said, “Let’s go down to the office and bring your files with you. Give Sujin your keys and she will get it for you,” as he stood up to lead his friend down to the basement. Rocky got up and followed his master down the stairs. Never was he not with his master when someone other than Sujin was with him. He always kept his distance, but never for a moment did he relax while his master entertained a guest.

Steve never ceased to be impressed with the basement. Like spokes on a wheel, rooms led off through curtained or beaded doors oriental style. In the center, or the hub of a wheel, sat three small sofas done up in the same motif as the sofa upstairs. All colors were grey or white wherever you looked be it ceiling or the inside of the walls of the various rooms. Sitting in the middle of the room or hub surrounded by sofas sat around a glass coffee table with legs from a piece of driftwood custom fit for the glass. Recessed lighting, but effective, lent a warm feeling of safety and security. On the table a portable phone sat looking lonely without a cord to give it a home. Brad said with politeness, “Would you like a glass of brandy or cherry?”

“Yes, that would be fine. A glass of brandy would get my old blood moving again as I fear we have a long afternoon and night ahead of us.”

Brad disappeared into one of the rooms leaving the beads to rattle and sway together. Before they had completely settle down he was back with two brandy snifters and a bottle of California brandy. He poured an inch into each and sat down opposite his friend as Sujin came down with his briefcase. She gave him his bag and sat down on the other sofa so she could watch each of them as they spoke. Brad had a long time ago asked her to view the conversations with special attention to facial and body expressions. He felt that was the key to observation was separating fact from fiction; truth for lies; politics included and most importantly the subject itself. How important was this to the nation and who would benefit from it. Would this situation have far reaching effects worldwide or just locally? These were just some of the things he and Sujin discussed each time they were called to action. Now he gave Steve his full attention while he opened his bag and put on his half glasses. He opened a file marked secret and read an over view of what its contents were.

Two hours later Steve laid all the files on the glass table and sat back with his untouched brandy and sipped while he stared at Brad. Brad had neither touched his glass nor said a word the whole time. Steve was used to his ways and took the time to relax and let the warm burning liquid ignite a fire in his belly. Sujin got up and left up the stairs. Steve guessed right she was making dinner. She was an excellent Asian cook and he always looked forward to her dinners. I think it was the side dishes he liked the best, he thought. He’d been here many times and never twice did he eat the same entree. He knew he would be pleased with whatever she served.