Writer’s Note: So, I think Chapter 9 is over, for now. On to Chapter 10! Moving into a perspective change as we observer what Dean is doing. Hump day! Let’s get through this week, folks, with some good reading! Enjoy! Smile! Read!
Dean pulled into an open parking lot. Shaking the steering wheel as if he were trying to wake the dead. He could come clean to his superiors. That’s always the hardest part, telling the truth. His conscience would be clear, but he wouldn’t be free, he wouldn’t have his job. He’d be sent to rehab, a perpetual nightmare filled with all those criminals, many he put there personally. Criminals, because he decided they were societal rejects, for doing the very thing he has done so many times. His greed fueled the unapproved extracurricular activities.
Thomas and Handel sat in the back, looking at each other, wondering what to do next. Shoulder shrugs are exchanged between the two. A struggling non verbal discussion commenced until one of them acquiesced to saying the first words to Dean of what the next move was to be – not the typical “rocks, paper, scissor” game.
A nervous child, Handel said the first words, asking his mother for a cookie, “Sooo…,” he chose his words unwisely.
Just like a mother, his head turned slightly toward the backseat, Dean snapped back, “I’m thinking!”
Thomas and Handel could only see the corner of Dean’s eye and it gave them chills when spoke so abruptly.
He mumbled some more words, incoherent to the detectives in the back seat. In his mind, the words were clear, “Gotta find him. That’s the only option. If I can eliminate him, then this will all go away. Gotta find the snitch, he’ll tell me where the guy with the ring is. Gotta find the guy with the ring. If he knows, then he’ll tell. If he tells, then I’m screwed.”
The detectives resumed their non verbal discussion, trying to figure out if this was the time they needed to leave, if their services were still required, if the perceived superior in the front seat was starting to lose his mind and needed to be alone, if they were starting to reach a point that may involve some moral reasoning; maybe it was just time for their union mandated coffee break. To be certain, they knew they were at some kind of crossroads; unsure of the type of junction the detectives had reached – moral, professional, redeeming, coffee, or otherwise. Of course, only so much information could be conveyed from the communications as their eyes flexed in all directions and hands minimally flailed.
Before Thomas and Handel could come to an understanding of what the next move should be, Dean turned and looked at the two, “You guys are in this with me, right?”
“Of course, yeah,” the twins responding, synchronized, “What are we doing?”
…to be continued….