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 Calle and The Killer Next Door

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Posts : 76
Join date : 2009-01-15

PostSubject: Calle and The Killer Next Door   Tue Jan 24, 2012 4:44 pm

I was 13 when I first met Travis. We had become friends that day. Now he was blending in with the environment across the street from me while doing me a favor and following an acquaintance of the man I was following. Even as I knew I appeared taller in the six inch stilettos and that the tapping sound the shoes made on the sidewalk was obvious to all who was near me, I still felt I could melt into the world around me and be invisible. I’d known this since I was a child and my mom said if I could find logic then I’d find my true meaning. I’d gone out into the woods that very day to search for the ratiocination of myself. My name is Cleome Calle Powers and with a name like that I desperately needed to find myself. I was stretched out in a clearing in the woods behind our house when I’d heard a voice. “A little girl looking like a spider flower with those bows in her pigtails can’t truly blend into her environment,” the voice said.
‘Of course I can, I replied. “All I have to do is find myself.”
“And have you?”
“Who are you to question?”
“I am Travis Daniel Gelring, Cleome. Don’t you know that?”
“My name isn’t Cleome. I am Calle. No. I don’t know you.”
“Yes you do and always will. Can’t you feel it during your blending?”
I sat up with that statement and looked around. “Where are you?”
If you truly blended with your surroundings then you should know where I am.”
I knew then and turned my head toward a large tree with a bigger trunk than Dan Ostein’s father. “You’re hiding behind Ostein.”
What is an Ostein?
“You tell me, after all you’re the one who is hiding behind it.”
He came out then. A boy three years older than I was. “Remember what I say, My Flower,” he said and walked off down the trail.
I ran after him. “ You should explain.”
“Explain? That is what you should do, although I think you did, in a way.”
“What are you doing in these woods?”
“Do they belong to you, Flower?”
“Not literally,” I said determined to ignore his name for me, “but my family owns a lot of them.”
“Ah, so is that why you always stayed on the safe trail? What made you deter from your normal route through the woods today?”
“So, it’s been you all these years?”
“I suppose it has been.”
“Why have you not spoken, called out before today?”
“You didn’t need for me to call out.”
“ And I did today?”
“I think so yes. Do not worry, My Flower, you will blend quite easily when you grow up.”
“Thank you. I think. You speak connotatively.”
“You’ve mastered that quite nicely also.”

We’d met in those woods several times after that day and became best friends. Four years later we were dating and I was wondering what to do with the rest of my life. Travis was deciding if he wanted to apply at the local police department. He, like me, had whizzed through high school and the college classes he’d taken. We worked well together. He did join the local force and now ten years later he was doing me this favor. I’d explained it all to him. The man Fisher Stremely had become suspect to me when I’d been doing an online search for another name with the last name Finely. I had been on a website forum and read a sad post written by a dear friend of Margorie Finely begging all who saw her post to keep an eye out for her husband, David Finely. He was the article stated wanted in connection to Margorie’s murder. The friend had gone on to explain what a kind and giving friend and mother Margorie had been. She’d also included a recent picture of Finely. His face stood out to me and I hadn’t liked what I saw. Just as I hadn’t liked Stremely’s look when I’d first seen him. He’d looked at, Simon Fragamen, my favorite neighborhood child, in an obsidian way. I didn’t think he liked children at all, although he’d married a woman with two of her own. Simon had told me he didn’t like Fisher Stremely either, and didn’t think Faye and Cameron, Fisher’s step children, did either. Simon was very inquisitive and Fisher didn’t want to answer questions. Especially questions from a child. Simon used his inquisitiveness to help me when it came to Stremely. And today he was going to get me something with the man’s fingerprints on it, he said. I’d smiled and never doubted he’d succeed in his endeavor. I stressed to him he needed to be careful about doing it though. I’d gone on to be a personal searcher (as I liked to describe myself). I was proud of my endeavors. I’d actually found a couple missing children in the past and had sent hints to police a few times on whereabouts of known criminals. Travis had become a policeman and detective. We both stayed in the small town where we’d been born and raised. Fisher Stremely had made the mistake of settling here in Maiden, MS. a few years ago, and another mistake of settling on my street. And now we were on this street watching both Fisher and his friend, Raymond. I believed Fisher Stremely was in fact a man called David Finely from New York but I wanted more substantial proof before we contacted NYPD.

Simon’s mother, Candice, had become my best friend. I’d met her when we decided to buy a new home after my parents died. I couldn’t bring myself to live in my old family home. Travis and I both wanted a place we could call ours. Candice sold us our house next door to her but a year later she also sold Fisher Stremely and his wife Janice their home, on the other side of her own. I had been sitting with Simon at her home that day since the daycare she normally left him at was shut down for an annual professional cleaning. Candice was a top notch realtor selling high end homes and her commissions had allowed her to purchase her own home and maintain it. She’d met Fisher and Janice at the house and I was outside with Simon during his playtime when they arrived. Candice motioned me over and introduced me to the Stremelys and their two children. I offered to keep an eye on the children while they toured the home. After a few minutes of Candice assuring them I was a great person, they agreed but Fisher had demanded his children not be allowed to play in the sandbox. They would not be allowed in ‘his’ car if they looked liked ‘him’ he’d said pointing at Simon. I replied I thought the sand in Simon’s hair made him look sparkly and Janice had smiled when Simon said sparkly but Fisher had harrumphed and repeated his demand. No sandbox. I’d felt something off about Fisher that first day and admit it set my negative opinion of him. One I couldn’t, even after all this time, move past. After my original meeting with Fisher and Janice, I ran a criminal history on him and her too. Neither had one. It was then I realized he reminded me of the picture I’d seen of David Finely and pulled the photo up. I’d saved a copy to my computer. As the months passed I’d learned Janice had met Fisher at a restaurant when she’d dined with friends from work. A friend with them introduced him to the group. Janice worked at the local hospital in admittance. Fisher was in insurance and traveled often with his job. This was another reason Janice wanted to move to a safe and a respectable neighborhood was that she’d be alone a lot. Janice fell in love with the neighborhood and loved that so many women were stay-at-home mothers; that was another thing Fisher frowned on when it was mentioned. Candice had advised that at this time, I too, was a stay at home single woman but she also told them I was in a relationship with a local detective. I wasn’t on Fisher’s list of appropriate friends. But not working was something I knew would end if I continued putting so much money into my personal hobby. I got the distinct feeling Travis was another reason Fisher usually said no to invitations sent him by us for dinner or other neighborhood niceties. He was a standoff. Many in the neighborhood stop asking them over for dinner parties.

I stopped to pretend I was window shopping but was well-aware Fisher, a few shops down was waiting to meet his buddy but he was worried because of all the walkers on the street. Raymond has stepped out onto the street and rushed to cross over. I walked down closer to Glovers Men’s Clothing, a small family owned men’s store that had opened downtown a few months earlier. Fisher went inside just as I reached the doors to the store, and Raymond, in his hurried state carried me along with himself and both of us were inside the store. Raymond walked toward a rack of men’s shirts but I’d been able to maintain my balance and turn to the men’s suits. I notice a second later that Travis came through the doors also. A smile escaped. And I motioned for Carter to come over and assist me. Carter was the brother of Amelia Glover Thomas, the lady who owned and operated a fashionable woman’s evening dress shop next door.
“Are you looking for a new suit for your friend, Miss Powers?”
“She is always trying to get me into more fashionable suits, Carter,” Travis said as he came over where we were.
“I think he needs a nice suit, don’t you?”
“Of course, all men need at least one,” Carter replied. But he noticed Fisher was moving to the counter to pay for a shirt he hadn’t bothered to really look at but had just grabbed, nodded to his acquaintance and walked up to the counter. Carter motioned for a lady to move to the counter and handle the purchase. They could hear the conversation at the checkout counter as Fisher paid and said he needed nothing more and walked out into the afternoon and down the street. Behind him Raymond paid and did the same but deliberately crossed over the street again. Calle convinced Travis to purchase a suit, Carter suggested he try on and they left. A few minutes later I was sitting with Travis in a small shop that specialized in ice cream when Simon and his mother, Candice Fragamen come in and took a booth. Simon ran over and beamed up at me. After a few minutes his mom advised him she needed to go by her office before going home. Simon begged to stay with Calle and after a convincing ‘I really don’t mind his staying with me’ his mother agreed and left. I stayed in the shop over an hour with Simon and decided that one day I’d have a son just like him. Simon had excitedly opened his backpack and shown me a drawing he’d done. But it wasn’t the drawing he wanted to interest me with . . . it was that Fisher Stremely’s whole hand print was on the paper. Simon went on to explain that he’d asked Stremely to hand him the drawing when he’d said it was time he went home. And Stremely had obliged by placing his hand on the picture and sliding it across the table to him. Simon assured me that he’d only touched the corners even as he drew he hadn’t laid his hand on the paper, just the pencil crayons. I smiled down at the child and gave him a hug then slipped the paper into a folder I’d retrieved from my rather large purse and handed it over to Travis. After assuring Simon that Travis would treat it with special care, he was satisfied and nodded his approval. Travis left us then. I took Simon home with me and waited for Travis to call with the results. Later, Simon had left to walk across my lawn to his house and I sat at my kitchen bar with my laptop opened to the site where I’d learned about Marjorie Finley’s death. Marjorie was a 30-year-old mother of two when she died eight years ago. Her children were now under the care of their maternal grandmother. Marjorie’s husband, the children’s stepfather, was missing and wanted as a person of interest in her death. The police made a big deal stressing they just wanted to talk to him but media and public opinion felt he was suspect. Finley held the same opinion as the media and refused to go back to NY to talk to cops. He disappeared soon after Margorie was laid to rest. Since the initial investigation and DNA and other evidence had been analyzed the police had decided Finely was a suspect and had issued a warrant for his arrest. I still had the site opened when Simon came running through my door with his ashen face expressing terror. I immediately took him in my arms and held him as he tried to tell me what he’d found when he went home. His mother was laid out on the kitchen floor in a pool of blood. She had not answered when he called out to her. I held Simon still as I called Travis and explained exactly what Simon had told me. No way I was going to go over to his house alone or allow Simon to see his mother like that. Once was enough . . . too much for him to witness. Travis assured me he’d send a unit to check on it immediately. And he did. Ten minutes later I heard the sirens and tires squealing as they pulled into Simon’s driveway. Travis was behind him running silent in his unmarked unit.

Travis sent an officer over to sit with Simon so I could go outside. He knew if Janice Stremely came outside I’d want to talk to her. Simon was nervous but agreed to stay with the officer and explain what he’d seen when he went home earlier. As soon as I arrived in Candice Fragamen’s driveway, I saw Janice and Fisher standing in their drive starring over. I walked toward them and Fisher turned his eyes away. He was scared. I smiled up at Janice and introduced myself. “Did you notice anyone around the Fragamen’s home today?”
“I only arrived home a few minutes ago and saw all the activity, she said. Is Candice okay?”
“I’m afraid not, Janice, she is dead.”
Simon, what about Simon?”
“He is safe. What about you Mr. Stremely? Did you see anyone hanging around the Fragamen’s house?”
He shook his head. “No. But there is a man that’s been over there a few times. They argued.”
“When was this?”
“Yesterday, they were standing out back near her pool and I could tell they were having a heated argument?”
“Could you hear them?”
“No, but she shook her finger in his face and he slapped it away.”
“Thank you. You should tell the police when they question you. Oh, one more question. Did you attempt to interfere with the argument?”
Fisher looked at me strangely. “Why should I have? Candice didn’t suffer fools easily and could manage a disagreement with hired help.”
I noticed Janice hid an amusing smile behind her nod of agreement but she slid her hand into Fisher’s and looked up at him like he was God himself. I smiled at them both, told them I was sure Travis would want to speak with them soon and said my goodnights. Fisher nodded, slid his arm around Janice’s waist and led her with him into their house.

Candice had sold me my home after I’d recovered from the death of my parents just as she had handled the sale of the house where the Stremely’s were residing. She’d confided in me that she regretted that sale a few months after they’d moved into the neighborhood. We’d had a long conversation about the Stremelys. ‘He is an arrogant ass,’ she’d said. I remember asking why and she’d explained that although the day she’d taken them on a tour of the home she’d hoped the kids would make good companions for Simon and she’d rather liked Fisher, later, she’d come to despise him. He was selfish and not a good dad for those kids. When she’d shown them the home, she had taken them through the carport into the mud room and down to the laundry room first, explaining as she did that it was her favorite love of the home. The laundry room was large with folding tables and an island in the center and several racks for hanging clothing. But off the laundry room was a large room that she’d explained to them she felt would make a great play room for the children. Something she thought Janice would appreciate. Janice had but Fisher had spoken up that it’d also make him a good sitting area or a great weight room. Janice loved her workouts and had nodded agreement but Candice knew she liked the playroom idea best. Mainly I can’t stand the man because, Candice had paused giving me time to inhale what she was saying, as you know the room was a playroom now but Fisher’s reasoning of it being so was what made her stomach churn, he said it’d keep noise down when he was at home and they’d be occupied and not bother him. Fisher Stremely didn’t allow the children to search him out for companionship. He searched for them when he wanted to interact with them. That was an unspoken rule in the home, Candice had said. Something Calle was aware of too, and one reason she was irked by Fisher. And it was one Simon had noticed in his young years and had questioned his mom about it. Calle thought Fisher must have gone home after he’d left the men’s shop and waited for Candice and Simon. She felt a renewed fear for Simon’s life. Was Fisher suspicious of the child’s intent and friendship with her? Had he sensed the child’s dislike and mistrust? As Calle sat at her breakfast bar, she thought back over her relationship with the Stremely family. They’d met soon after moving into the home. Calle was outside unloading her car of books and other items, including a new computer she’d purchased during a shopping spree when Simon had noticed her and came running over with Cameron and Faye on his heels. Fisher had come outside moments later and called for the children to come back. He’d walked over acting apologetic and it was then he’d given Simon a look of pure dislike and had caused the hairs on Calle’s neck to tingle with disgust of their own. The children were all excitedly taking packages from her and heading into her house. Fisher stared at her and apologized for the intrusion. She’d smiled politely and said no matter, she appreciated the help the children were giving. As if her comment was a reminder that he was an adult male he’d taken the heaviest package from her and walked with her into her dining room. He deposited the package on the dining room table and called for the children to go back home. Calle sat her own load on the table and again thanked the children for their help, then offered refreshments. Fisher looked over at her with a frustrated sigh told her that no, they had a mess to pick up before they could have any afternoon refreshment. The children hadn’t gathered up their toys before going outside to play and that was a no-no. Cameron and Faye both pouted but he’d put his hand between Cameron’s shoulders and gave him a shove. Cameron had walked out apologetically with his head down and Faye in tow. I truly appreciate your help dear child, come back any time, I had said. And I had meant it. Fisher knew it. After that he’d had little to do with me socially.

Travis popped his head into the dining room and asked if I was okay. Simon heard him and came running. “Mr. Travis, Mr. Travis is my mom okay, can I go home now?” The police woman walked up behind Simon and looked hopeful that Travis could calm the boy. She’d stayed with him even after I’d come back from next door.

Travis knelt meeting Simon face to face and gently told him no, his mother had died and he couldn’t go home. I wanted to rush over to Simon and hold him but Travis was already holding the boy, understanding the rush of sobs that racked the child’s shoulders. It was heart wrenching to watch. Travis looked over at me when Simon finally pulled back, took the officer’s offer of her hand and walked back into my living room and plopped down on the sofa to watch his program. “We’ll contact Candice’s brother.”
“I’ll take care of that. I think it’ll be better than having some strange policeman call with a cold attitude for his feelings.” Travis agreed and I picked up my cell from the breakfast bar and searched for William’s number. What time would it be in England now?” Travis asked.
I shrugged. Nighttime I’m sure, I said. It’s like a 6-hour difference. 6 P.M. here so around midnight there, I guess.”
The phone was ringing as Travis said, “You could wait till its morning there, we’ll have more answers for him by then, I hope.”
“No. He’ll be up, a night owl like me.” Then I heard William’s hello at the other end of the line.
“William, it’s Calle. I’m sorry to call you at such an ungodly hour your time.”
“Calle, your voice is shaking. What’s wrong? Is Candice okay, Simon not sick or anything is he?”
William, I’m calling with sad news for sure. Earlier tonight, Candice’s body was discovered in her home. She’s gone, William. I’m so incredibly sorry.”
“OH MY GOD! What happened?” He screamed into my ear.
“She was murdered, William. Simon found her.”
“Who the hell killed her?!”

“The police have no clues as to who killed her William, not yet. They will find him or her.”
Travis was reaching out his hand for the phone and I reluctantly handed it to him.” He spoke with William assuring him they’d not stop before finding the person responsible and advising he needed to come to the US as soon as possible. Simon needed care. Social services would have control until then. My eyes had widened with that statement and I nodded my head furiously. No! We’d have him. I didn’t trust strangers where Simon was concerned with a killer nearby. Travis disconnected the call and told her William would catch a flight out as soon as he could. He was dealing with a contentious divorce himself and that and the fact he lived overseas may create a problem with social services. He’d begged Candice to move to London with him but she’d refused wanting Simon raised here in US. I was to discover that and much more the next day when her will was found. Simon tossed and turned that night. He’d been allowed to sleep with her. Travis had been at the precinct all night, dragging home around five the next morning to grab a bite of breakfast and shower before heading back to the department. Social services had agreed to allow Simon to stay with her since her brother was flying in and would come immediately to her house. But William had to contact them immediately. Simon’s biological paternal grandparents weren’t in his life, nor was his father. Timothy Deavors was a genius and had gone on to divorce Candice before Simon was born, the marriage lasted 3 months, just as his parents had wanted him to do. She become pregnant when she was 17 and he, 18 while they had been in HS and he’d run off with her and married. Much to his parents despair. He, to them, was ruining his great genius future, the future they had all planned out for him. The Deavors were the city rich snobs who owned much of the city including the deep pocket of the mayor’s office among other politicians. Patrick Deavors was the citys’s success story. Although he’d inherited it from Patrick Sr. Who’d gotten the kid out many troubled waters when he was growing up. He settled in with the money quite easily and now Patrick Jrs son, Patrick Timothy Deavors III was headed down the same path. The family had not wanted a nondescript child of an equal nondescript mother to carry their name but Candice hadn’t either and had given him her name. The family had agreed to pay her child support. Money she needed she felt to move on with her education and realtor license.

Calle walked out to the car with Travis.The morning was a brisk cool one and she shivered in her thin bed clothing. Travis held her and suggested she go back inside. What shall we do about the fingerprinting now, Calle? I didn’t have time to get Mavis to check it last evening he said as he got into his car. Should we let it be for now, I will be busy with this murder investigation.”
No. Get Mavis to print it and check the database. I simply don’t trust that man, she whispered. I just don’t.”
Travis nodded agreement and reached for the key to start the car motor. I”ll call you if we get a hit. I just don’t want you disappointed if we come back with nothing.”
“He was involved, Travis. I feel it. He came home yesterday and waited for Candice and Simon to come home.”
“My Flower, you don’t know that! You are stuck on this man and determined to pin something on him.”
“Perhaps I am but he is dirty and you know it. You feel it too.”
“Yes I do but I can’t go after him for Candice’s murder without evidence.”
“He I smart, he’d wear gloves,” I said. I bent over and kissed Travis bye then turned to go inside. Travis called for me. Just as I turned, I saw Fisher come out then bend to pick up his morning paper. He waved over at me. I hesitantly waved back and this caused Travis to look over at Fisher. “Stay away from him today, Calle. He said when I reached his car window.
“I will,” I said. “Don’t forget his friend Raymond.”
The crime scene tape still blocked off Candice’s house but Fisher walked around it on his way over to question me and Travis. “Good morning neighbors, Janice and the children are still resting. They all had a restless night. Fear for their safety filled them.”
“I understand that fear, Fisher,” I said. A killer bounded down on us in our safe neighborhood so that’s a common emotion. I’m sure all the neighbors have the same feeling.”
Fisher nodded agreement. “I tried reassuring them as best I could. But, I still think the man she argued with was involved in her death. We’re just so thankful Simon wasn’t home and was unharmed.”
“Yes. Me too,” I replied.”
“Did you guys talk with the worker?” he asked Travis.
“Not yet, but we will talk with him.”
“Yes of course. I’m sorry. I guess I’m grasping for something good to tell Janice. She doesn’t want me to leave the house today. He turned to me. Do you need someone to watch over Simon today? I’m assuming he is still with you. One of the officers said he was with a neighbor last night. We’ll be glad to have him as Janice said last night.”
“No. No, He’ll be fine with me. His uncle will be here later anyway.” I looked up into Fisher’s eyes. Searching. But found nothing.”
Travis turned and left me standing there. I took a deep breath of the fresh morning air and walked back into my house. The site was open on my computer and I refreshed the video then looked into the eyes of Margorie Finely. She’d grabbed my heart and caused it to break with her glow as she playfully played with her two young children. Margorie had long brunette hair and a face that looked like a model. Janice Stremely could be a smaller, younger double. Her hair was shorter but she had the same dark eyes and oval face. And she beamed when playing with her children. I closed my laptop and worried. Come on Calle remember ratiocination. Use it! She kept telling herself that for the next 30 minutes then the phone rang.
“Calle, I just got a call from a lawyer named Gates, we are to meet him in his office at 3 this afternoon.”
“What about Travis?”
“I know nothing yet. Mavis has the drawing. I’ll whip by and pick you up and bring an officer to sit with Simon.”
“No. We will not leave him here alone without one of us with him. He goes with us, the officer can watch him in the office while we meet the lawyer.”
“Under the circumstances, I agree. He goes with us.”
My computer was my haven and until time to dress for the meeting. I pounded the keys. Once again I searched to discover everything I could about Janice Stremely. Facebook is a massive site of personal information. Three years ago Janice had met the most darling of fantastic men, three weeks later she was in a relationship with the man of her dreams then engaged and within 3 months of meeting that darling they were married. Numerous photos of her and Fisher were on her page. None of them showed him even pretending to enjoy his time with the children. He always looked aloof to me. Or was I being prejudiced. Simon interrupted my thoughts and it dawned on me he needed a snack. We both did so I once again shut down my computer and prepared us something to eat. Simon was talkative. He questioned me about his drawing and asked questions about what had happened to his mother. I was very careful how I answered his questions. I didn’t want to put things in his mind, I wanted him to see only what he saw and not what I suggested. I explained that Travis was having his drawing checked for prints but they hadn’t verified anything with it yet, he had to be patient with the police. Travis came in just as we were finishing off our snack and announced we needed to hurry if we wanted to be on time for our appointment. I cleaned Simons face and grabbed my purse. Automatically my eyes looked toward his house and over to the Stremely’s house when we went outside. But all was quiet, and no one was in sight. We made good time through the traffic with time to spare. Mr. Adder, of Adder, Lawson and Quigley was an elderly man. He shook our hands and explained he’d heard of Candice Fragamen’s death on the news and thought he should immediately contact Travis and myself. Candice had wanted me to handle the sale of her home, clean her personal possessions out and take Simon as my own. Adder went on to say that she knew her brother would take him and raise him right but Simon adored me and she knew Travis and I would be great parents. Adder looked up and ask us if we agreed to her terms/ At the same time Travis and I said yes without hesitation. He went on to explain that she wanted Simon’s biological father nor his family to have anything to do with Simon’s future. I silently agreed with her on that point also. Surprisingly as we were leaving the office we met Timothy Deavors and his family. Claudette Deavers recognized my face from the short interview a news station had done the night before. She never bothered speaking directly to Simon. They had been to talk with their lawyer and he’d advised they file paperwork immediately to take custody of the child. Simon’s only living relative otherwise was overseas and they had a promising chance of taking him. I nodded disagreement, advised them I had custody of the child and he would remain with me if William agreed and walked past them following Travis and Simon. I would fight them in court if that is what they wanted. Just as we were turning back onto the interstate, I noticed the Deavors’ driver pull out of the attorney’s parking lot. My cell rang.

William was calling me from the plane. He’d arrive, he said apologetically, around 10 P.M.. I assured him that would be an okay time to come to the house. I offered him to stay at the house and after a few minutes of I can grab a motel room - no you are welcome to stay with us- it’s no bother insistence- he agreed and said he’d see us tonight. When Travis drove into the drive of our house and after the officer had taken Simon inside, I glanced over at Camille’s house and asked if he would walk me over, I needed to get Simon more clothes and some other stuff he’d asked for us to bring him. Travis agreed. The scent of blood and death infiltrated my sinus as soon as we walked through the doorway. I wanted out but slowly followed Travis through the home and up the stairs. Simon had told me where to find his ipod, games and toys he most wanted so I went for them. Travis searched his closet shelves. We took less than 30 minutes searching and gathering everything we needed including a search of Candice’s room where I felt an intruder. Travis was expert at searching her drawers. No one would have known they’d been opened and certainly not rifled through unless we told them so. He had found a packet of pictures and stuffed them into his jacket pocket after sliding them out for a quick glance.

I gave Simon his satchel of toys and ipod and he ran off to the living room to listen to music and play his downloaded games. I knew Candice had been particular with what games she’d allowed to be on the ipod so I wasn’t concerned that he’d see anything he shouldn’t see. I was beginning to feel the effects of all that had happened - exhausted. Travis told me that Mavis had lifted the hand print from the drawing but the print I’d copied online was smudged and she couldn’t say with certainty it was the same person. He told me the officer was staying to watch over Simon and I needed to rest. I agree about the latter but nerves and exploding thoughts was keeping me awake. I needed to think more randomly. Yes I was disappointed about the prints but I wasn’t giving up - not yet. I gave Travis a url link for the prints from NYPD online and a few minutes later he left us to return to the department. I was busy checking out the pictures he’d taken from Candice dresser. Mostly they were of Simon but some showed Faye and Cameron also. A couple was with Fisher and the children. Those are the ones I studied. Perhaps I was as I wondered before, prejudiced against him but although his lips were curled into a smile, his eyes had no compassion in them. They were dry, unemotional- dead. One picture was of Candice and her eyes showed fear. I wondered who had put it there and who had taken the picture. Simon perhaps since the picture wasn’t the best of the package, off center and part of her hair was falling off the top end of the paper-missing. I slipped all the photos back into the package and put them in a drawer I kept odd and end stuff then joined Simon. He decided calling for take out pizza delivery was perfect. I ordered being sure to include one pizza for the officer with her favorite toppings. She’d grabbed her bag and dug out monies to pay for it when the doorbell rang but I motioned and handed the delivery boy a check then a five dollar bill for his tip. He was use to accepting my checks. The afternoon was quiet and I had curled up on the sofa and rested. But when I’d woke it hit me that I had another way to find out all I could about Fisher Stremely. A family roots search. I knew his supposed date of birth was July 28 1980 so I found genealogy site and spent the rest of afternoon doing a search of his alleged history. I was still digging when Travis arrived home that night. I showed him all I’d dug up and he was very interested. Seems the real Fisher Stremely was a 50 year old man born in North Carolina and had died in July 1998 one week before his birthday of cancer. I pulled up the North Carolina newspapers and ran a search for ‘wanted persons’- then came across a person named Mark Evert listed as suspect in a cold case naming the 18-year-old man wanted for aggravated assault during a robbery of a convenience store. Seems Mr. Evert disappeared off the face of the earth since no tips had been given on his whereabouts. The black and white picture was somewhat grainy but Tarvis agreed with me that the resemblance was uncanny. Had Mark Evert become David Finely of NY then Fisher Stremely? My hands shook and was still shaky when William arrived. He was tired with jet lag and stress so we’d only stayed up discussing the case and arrangements he intended to make for the funeral the next day an hour. I fell into a light sleep within minutes of my head hitting the pillow. I’d put William in a room downstairs, the one I had intended Simon take but Simon was once again sleeping between Travis and me. Around 2 AM a noise woke me. I recognized the squeak and raised up on my elbow, reached over Simon and shook Travis’s shoulder. He too, raised up and I whispered I heard a noise downstairs. A few seconds later we both heard another noise like a thump. Travis sit on the side the bed reached down for his slippers then beneath the bed for the small pistol. I kept hidden in a compartment. His service revolver was locked in the trunk of his car. He motioned me quiet with a finger to his lips and left me still raised on my elbow with my head on my hand. One thing about our house that I kept saying I need to have checked and repaired was that two of the stairs had a creak in them. I didn’t hear the creaks as Travis went downstairs he’d remembered and deliberately missed both steps. Then I heard another noise and I left the bed, kicking my feet from under the cover and grabbing my robe. I was down the stairs and headed to William’s room in a flash. Travis stood legs parted and his gun pointed at an unknown masked intruder. William was spread out across the bed unconscious, like he was asleep. A syringe was near his hand, needle intact and the intruder had a small lighthouse statue in his hand. It was mine. I’d bought the statue and kept on the bedside table as a reminder of a trip to Maine and light house tours I’d been on. I’d even promised Simon I’d take him to Maine to see the light houses one day. Travis starred down the intruder and handed me the gun then told the man that if he didn’t want a hole dead -center between his eyes he’d better not twitch. Travis went to call for backup and an ambulance for William.
The intruder never spoke a word, not to us nor the police. His fingerprints came back to a man named Lynn Rivers with no local record. I thought perhaps he had been hired by the Deavors to kidnap Simon. They were the type to believe possession is 9/10ths the law. And that is what Simon would be, a possession bought and paid for. The fight for Simon’s happiness and rights was going to be a long one. I decided that day I was going to take him to Maine to see the light houses the day the documentation of our adoption was signed; we were going on a vacation. William approved of our adoption and had signed over all rights he had to Simon to us. He knew he said as he’d told me on the phone it was what Candice had wanted. She wanted Simon in the US with us and not in England with him. He and I talked about his divorce between memorials, the funeral and candle light vigils. Two weeks after he landed was hospitalized told he’d been given a med that put him to sleep but wouldn’t have killed him he left for the airport and plane trip back home. Mavis had checked the prints from the NY online site I’d given Travis and agreed many of the twirls on the print was same as the ones on the drawing but she couldn’t say with certainty it was him. I felt it was time I talked with Detective Richard Goings from the NY police department and flew into NY the same day William left for his trip home. Travis stayed in Maiden but made sure Goings had his cell phone number and been assured Simon and I would be watched carefully. He even volunteered to pick us up at the airport. Simon was legally ours now and after the NY trip he and I were headed to Maine. A judge had fully agreed to grant Candice wishes and denied the Deavors access to him. He’d felt sure he’d made the right decision and gone against his long time friends’ petition for custody. He had agreed to revisit the case in a year if the Deavors still wanted to visit with the child. The Deavors didn’t give up; they immediately filed appeals and more motions. The airport in NY was huge and I was glad Detective Goings agreed to pick us up when me, Simon and Officer Steely, the female officer who’d stayed with Simon on several occasions and had agreed to fly out with us, exited the plane. Goings had made an announcement over the intercom for the party from MS to meet him in at baggage pick-up. We did. I’d brought a very thick folder with me and after a quick stop off at the hotel and leaving Simon and Officer Glenda Steely I took the folder from my laptop briefcase and met Goings in the lobby. We went back to his office. I laid everything out for him, explaining in detail when and why I thought Fisher was the one and same as David Finely and likely also the real Mark Evert. I gave him the investigators name, Danny Summons in NC that I’d spoken with concerning Evert and he called him. After agreeing to fly to Maiden and meet with Travis, Summons hung up and Goings and I spent the afternoon talking. By time he carried me back to the hotel he basically knew my life history. I’d explained that after graduating high school I’d taken some classes in criminology but majored in sociology in college. I told him of the runaway children I’d located and a couple other cases where I’d located wanted felons. I did this I said because I believed in justice for victims. He was impressed. And I was proud. Over the course of the next few days Detective Goings had the same thought as Travis and I had. Fisher Stremely was in fact David Finely. He and I had spent a lot of hours talking and going through old files and my own files. He called Summons in NC and advised him how he was thinking and Summons agreed to fly in to NY. That visit kept me and Officer Steely and Simon in NY an extra few days. Simon loved it, he got to see the sites and was in awe of how big and different NY was compared to our small city. I felt I’d left copies of my files in the best hands possible when we three loaded our suitcases and drove to Maine for the promised trip around Cape Elizabeth and touring some lighthouses in cities within reasonable driving distance. I opted out of stressing that some light houses were said to be haunted. I think Officer Steely enjoyed herself as much as Simon and I did. We stayed in bed and breakfast often and after the Cape Elizabeth’s tour took an outdoor trip with many other sightseers, river rafting. Simon had a blast and talked nonstop about all we’d seen during the plane trip back home and told Travis all about the sights he’d seen as we drove to the house. Travis drove Officer Steely home and advised her to be back at our house the next morning. He said he’d explain later but as soon as we made it to the house I knew why. Someone had burglared the house while we were away. And Travis had a new door installed, the same back door Rivers had used to come inside. He explained that Summons and he had a long talk and Summons had actually had a casual ‘accidental’ meeting with Fisher Stremely at a local business when he and Travis were having lunch. Goings was coming to MS soon and at that time he’d meet with Stremely officially. Travis hoped they’d get a confession in Candice murder at that time also. So did I. It felt great to have the case in someone else’s capable hands. I felt sad for Janice and the children but when I saw Fisher I felt an inner smile because I knew soon he’d be back in NY and hopefully in jail. And that is what happen two months to the day after I returned to Maiden from the Maine vacation. Detective Goings came with a warrant and a local officer and knocked on the Stremely’s door. He handcuffed Fisher as soon as the door was answered and advised he was wanted for questioning related to the death of Margorie Finely. Goings read him his rights and the officer escorted Fisher to the patrol unit. Travis and I watched as they led him away then Travis left to go to the department. I took Simon’s hand and walked to where Janice was standing in total shock. The children, she stuttered were in the playroom. Simon went to be with them. He later told me that Faye and Cameron both told him they hoped Fisher didn’t come back. I ask Janice several questions about Fisher and their relationship, his with the children and how she felt about Candice death. She froze and paled. I think she suspected Fisher. And I was right, she finally admitted he’d changed over the last few months and she was scared of but at the same time for him. At the department Goings was finally breaking Fisher Stremely a.k.a. David Finely a.k.a. Mark Evert and he was talking. He’d been in the house in Candice came home that day but he’d gone there not to kill but to get the crayon drawing Simon had made. He realized his hand print was all over it and with the direct questions Simon was asking he’d gotten worried. Candice had caught him and in the struggle she’d been stabbed. She had the knife he said and he’d taken it from her. Mark Evert was giving Travis a hard look, one that could kill and filled with pure hate. “He got that drawing with the prints on it for that woman you live with didn’t he?” That b***h was after him, he’d said. Travis fists balled but he kept a controlled calm. Fisher swore he had not killed Margorie and that Raymond had done it. I didn’t believe it. Neither, I discovered, did the police. But Fisher stuck to his story. He knew he’d go down for two murders if he admitted the murder, and would never get out prison. Little did he know he’d be charged with murder, at the least accessory, if Raymond admitted to killing Margorie and pinned Fisher as hiring him. Both charges would carry the same sentence.

Travis and I married that summer with half the department in attendance, Officer Steely was my Maiden of Honor and Simon was Travis’s best man. Janice and the children moved away to live with her parents. I sold Candice home and put the monies in Simon’s educational fund. The needle carrying burglar had been hired by Raymond and he too was sitting in jail awaiting a trial date. The Deavors are still keeping me in court trying to back step everything I did with or for Simon, including the Maine vacation. They felt I’d put him in danger when we’d gone rafting. I am working now, at the local bank. I feel it’s a great place to meet all types of strange people.

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Join date : 2013-05-06
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PostSubject: Re: Calle and The Killer Next Door   Mon May 06, 2013 4:14 pm

WOW!! Very interesting! Your story my friend, captured my attention all the way through. Are you going to continue with a mini series of the different people that are met from working in the bank? I think, it would make for a fascinating series or chapters to a book.
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PostSubject: Re: Calle and The Killer Next Door   Mon May 06, 2013 5:48 pm

Passion wrote:
WOW!! Very interesting! Your story my friend, captured my attention all the way through. Are you going to continue with a mini series of the different people that are met from working in the bank? I think, it would make for a fascinating series or chapters to a book.

I did start another Calle story but haven't finished it. Crying or Very sad
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Age : 72
Location : Texas

PostSubject: your story   Tue May 21, 2013 9:48 am

Read and enjoyed. Hope for another soon. Keep up the good work. Hope it have something of my own soon. Keep hoping anyway. Thanks for sharing this.
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PostSubject: Re: Calle and The Killer Next Door   Wed May 22, 2013 5:50 pm

DeathAngel wrote:
Read and enjoyed. Hope for another soon. Keep up the good work. Hope it have something of my own soon. Keep hoping anyway. Thanks for sharing this.

Hi Jess, I did start another Calle story but got that ol' where is this going stumble. Haven't straighten up yet. lol I began another story but it too is at a standstill for now. It'll get that one day. Smile
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PostSubject: Re: Calle and The Killer Next Door   Sat Jan 25, 2014 12:31 pm

Loved the characters!! Such a great short story, well done!!  Like a Star @ heaven 
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PostSubject: Re: Calle and The Killer Next Door   Fri Jan 31, 2014 4:44 pm

sarianna wrote:
Loved the characters!! Such a great short story, well done!!  Like a Star @ heaven 

Now I feel guilty for not finishing more short stories I've started and sit waiting to be completed.
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Boli Shagnasty

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Age : 68

PostSubject: Re: Calle and The Killer Next Door   Mon Feb 03, 2014 11:11 pm

Dear Ann,

Good story with interesting characters. Have we met those two main characters before? I also think you could carry these stories and characters into many further adventures.
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PostSubject: Re: Calle and The Killer Next Door   Wed Feb 05, 2014 10:03 am

Boli Shagnasty wrote:
Dear Ann,

Good story with interesting characters. Have we met those two main characters before? I also think you could carry these stories and characters into many further adventures.

Boli, Thanks for the read and comment. As I told Passion, I do have a new Calli story started but it's unfinished. As is other stories with different characters. Sad
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PostSubject: Re: Calle and The Killer Next Door   Sat Feb 08, 2014 6:24 pm

Alright Ms. Ann- when do we get to see the continuation? *chuckle*
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