I posted the first two chapters before the first one was up and I saw the comments about the error in the cast of characters with the widow reference. Thanks for pointing that out. Also, I have to apologize to all the gun enthusiasts out there who pointed out that I didn't do the research on the operation of the Glock. I guess I'll have to fire my editor – oh, wait, that's me! Shit! In any case, thanks to all who have taken the time to comment. We're all busy and I appreciate it.
Main Characters:
LTC (Retired) John Jackson, 5'11", 180, 45 years old.
Marie Jackson, John's dead wife, 5'8", 140, 44 years old.
Angelica Jackson, John and Marie's daughter, 5'5", 125, 19 years old.
Mary Bradford, bartender, 5'5", 120, 34 years old.
Margaret (Maggie) Bradford, Mary's sister, 5'6", 115, 36 years old.
Madeleine (Maddie) Bradford, Maggie's daughter, 6 years old..
Juliet Margolin, waitress, 5'4", 145, 24 years old.
Samantha (Sam) Walker, 5'6", 130 pounds, 39 years old.
Joyce Walker, Sam's daughter, 5'4", 120 pounds, 19 years old.
Marion Walker, Sam's daughter, 5'4", 115 pounds, 17 years old.
SFC (Retired) Craig Smithson, 6', 190, 46 years old.
Jeanne (aka Jasmine) Welch, 5'5", 110, 20 years old.
Previously:
I was in a strip club, working as a private investigator, finding a young woman (real name Jeanne, stripper name Jasmine) whose parents had wanted to make sure she was okay. As I got up to leave, I felt rather than noticed someone quickly come up to me from the right side. I was just able to overhear my name being shouted since the music was pretty loud. Because of those two things I flinched and that's what probably saved me. I felt the blow to the back of my head, but fortunately it was a glancing one. That flinch was purely a reflex action; otherwise I fear what might have happened to my head. I was dazed and I remember looking up and thinking that it was one of the guys from the drug gang, but I was too out of it to do anything about it. And then everything faded to black.
Monday, 1 October 2012, A Gentleman's Club, Seattle, Washington.
When I finally came to, I was lying on a couch in a small office. I could hear the music of the strip club through the door, but it was pretty well muted. I turned and looked to my left and Jeanne/Jasmine was there talking to an older man with a goatee and to George, the large bouncer.
I groaned and sat up, my head was throbbing and it hurt along the right side. They all moved over to the couch. Jasmine went to her knees and held her hand to my head. "How are you feeling?"
"My head feels like somebody stomped on it, other than that, okay."
Jasmine smiled. The older guy stepped forward and put out his hand. "Hi, I'm Marcus Candiotti, the owner and manager here."
I shook his hand. "What happened? I don't remember much after some guy tried to take my head off."
Everybody looked at Marcus. "Yeah, we need to discuss that with you, too. Some guy took a swing at you with a small iron bar that he must have had hidden when he came in. You ducked enough to keep from getting it too bad and then George took the guy down. I didn't know the guy and he only seemed angry with you, so obviously there's some history there. We have him locked in one of the VIP rooms until we can talk about it with you."
"I didn't see the guy, so I have no idea who we are talking about."
Marcus looked up at George. "George, bring him in here." George left.
"I notice that you didn't call the cops."
"We try not to. It just brings us unwanted attention and sometimes it's just a domestic thing. You can tell us if you know the guy and we'll decide what to do. Also, we're not sure if you need medical attention. He didn't break the skin, but you still got knocked out. You can decide if you want to go to the ER or not."
I can imagine that strip clubs try to keep all unwanted attention away from them, law or otherwise.
George then reentered the room with a guy in plastic cuffs. It was Justin, the drug using asshole that had pounded on Sam's door so hard that I had drawn a gun on him.
I stood up. "Hello, Justin." He just stared at me. "Does your employer know you took a run at me? Aren't you still out on bail for the last incident?"
"Fuck you!" He spit it at me.
I turned to Marcus. "Yeah, I know this guy. He is part of a drug operation here in the area. He was messing around in my apartment stairwell, so I asked him to leave nicely, and then not so nicely. He and some buddies came back and broke into my apartment, but I held them back with a gun and now they are under arrest. He's out on bail awaiting trial."
"You fucker. I'll get you, asshole. You can't hide forever." He struggled and wrestled against being held and cuffed, but George made about two of him and just held him in place.
I stared at Justin. "Justin, let me explain something to you. I'm going to call the cops now and you know what? Since you are out on bail for breaking and entering my apartment and communicating a threat against me, I think they'll love to have you back. Your bail will be revoked and you can wait in jail for your trial. Sound like fun?"