New Projects
My newest project is "Sins of Silas"
After being convicted of several crimes, Silas, one of the city's most notorious serial killers falls ill before he can be put to death by the prison system.
He requests a young reporter to come to his hospital room so he can give him his story, and clear up all the misconceptions of his conviction. His claim of innocence has the police baffled as similar killings begin again, as if there is a copycat killer.
Each chapter begins with a quote from the killer...or killers!
Hang on as everyone involved moves through a web of mystery and suspense.
Now available at www.publishamerica.com
My newest work is different than any novel I have written. Here is the first chapter, but please don't think you have it figured out just yet. I promise there are some twists that will surprise you.
And ever since then, when the clock strikes two,
She walks unbidden from room to room,
And the air is filled that she passes through
With a subtle, sad perfume
The delicate odor of mignonette,
The ghost of a dead and gone bouquet,
Is all that tell of her story; yet
Could she think of a sweeter way?
Poet Bret Harte, 1871
Chapter One
Alex Sikes sat on the curb gazing down at his hands. Dirt covered what should have been clean skin. He turned them over and inspected his palms. They looked rough and gritty with time; calluses replaced the once smooth lines. His hands were no longer like those of a man that once used them more for talk than work.
Everything in his life had changed. He had lost his job, his family, and his home. Now he was alone on this special day, the birth of his youngest daughter. He tried to wipe a tear from his eye, but the dirt on his hands stopped him so he tipped his head backwards, wondering if anything would ever be the same again.
Alex looked skyward as his tears slowly cleared from his eyes. He noticed the stars were now shining brightly. The clarity of the sky would make it a very cold night, one with plenty of frost. He needed to find somewhere to get warm, and get warm quickly. He stood up, and started to walk down the alley he was sitting in front of. Perhaps there would be a cardboard box along the way that he could turn into a temporary home for the night. Alex had noticed store clerks throwing things like that out all the time. The trick was to find them first, before other homeless people inhabited them for the night.
At one time, Alex was on top of the world, or at least it seemed as if he was. His business was flourishing and his family was growing. He had two lovely children and a wonderful wife. They had been married for ten years, and love was never any better than what it was between the two of them. Their children were growing, were smart and athletic. His life at home was filled with laughter, playing with his girls and just enjoying the family they had created. It was everything a man could want from life.
He was the president of a company that was created during what some called the dot com era. Computers were the wave of the future, and when they started being prevalent in everyone’s homes, he was the one telling customers how to get what they needed from them. Now things were different. Between other avenues of learning, and just plain easier computers, his business suffered until he had no choice but to close it. It was only the first step in a line of tragedies that caused the despair he was in.
He had been driving home after closing his office building for the last time. He was admittedly in the fog of his own mind, contemplating what would lay ahead in his future. His cell phone rang when he was only a couple of blocks from his house, bringing him back to the reality of his surroundings. The feelings he was going through at the time were of disgust and anger, coupled with fear and loathing for the situation he found himself and his family engrossed in. When he answered the phone, he never expected what he heard on the other end. It was someone asking him if he was indeed Alex Sikes?
“Yes, why?” he had answered.
“My name is Officer David Bernardo, sir. I am at your home at the moment, are you close by?”
It was the sentence he would never forget. It was the sentence that sent him further into a further spiral of misery and hopelessness. He was close by; as a matter of fact he was turning up his street when the man had asked him the question. All of the lights from emergency vehicles were reflecting off windows from nearby homes. There were people standing in the streets, pointing and talking amongst themselves. His neighbors turned and watched as he drove up the street, some backing away from his car as he passed. He knew from their body language that the night was going to be the worst of his life.
It wasn’t until they laid his wife and two children in the ground, each next to each other in the cemetery and in eternity, that he realized just how bad worst could be.
Alex slipped back into reality as he reached the alley.
It wasn’t as if he were feeling sorry for himself, he was just, well, just tired of being him for a while. Of course there was no way out of being him, or living through the problems this life had given him. He had considered suicide more than once, but his lovely wife’s face would dominate his thoughts when he did, stopping his thoughts as soon as he imagined her disappointment in him while she stood in the heavens watching him remove himself from the world.
He had reached a small dumpster and opened the top. He jumped back as soon as the top flipped over. Another homeless person had already found the space inside and had crawled inside to escape the night air. The man let out an undistinguishable yell.
“Sorry,” he said to the man lying with the trash.
“Close the lid, I just got it warm in here!” the man yelled.
Alex dropped the lid and moved up the alley once again. At the end was another dumpster for the convenience store on the corner. He had used it before over the past few weeks, looking for things that were used, but not used, as they say. Bent cans, or an errant soda that the top was loose, but not empty. Whatever it was that was available and edible, he would take and try to stay alive.
He really was trying to get his life back, but the remembrance of his wife’s face lying in a coffin, his children positioned at her side in their own resting places kept coming back to haunt him. They were images that he couldn’t get rid of, and he blamed himself for all of it. If he would have been home, or come home a little earlier, they may have been saved.
Accidents happen every day, but no one ever expects them to happen to them. The man driving the car had no idea he would have a heart attack that very moment he was driving up their street. He didn’t have control of the gas pedal as it was involuntarily pushed to the floor. The car was hoisted by speed and force onto Alex’s lawn, eventually crashing through the front window. There was no way anyone could control that his lovely wife and children were on the sofa, reading as they did every night before Alex got home, he knew that. The car slammed into the house, killing not only them, but the driver of the car as well. It was an accident, nothing more. Still, he had tremendous guilt.
He reached for the dumpster and climbed on a small wooden box that was next to it, bending over with deep pain. Alex held on to the side so he wouldn’t fall. Tears flowed down his cheeks, he was blubbering uncontrollably again. It was something he did periodically with no control. Alex wiped his face and stood back up, “Get a hold of yourself!” he said aloud as he slapped his own face. If someone would have been inadvertently watching him, they might have thought he was insane.
He opened the lid and looked inside. Nothing, he surmised it had been emptied that day. When he closed the lid he noticed the faint smell of roses.
The smell was unusual for this time of year, roses in the middle of the winter.
He ignored the fragrance, got down off the box then continued walking to the front of the store. Alex found decisions were more toward his survival now instead of thinking things out. If he could find someone, anyone, that may feel just a little sorry for him, he might be able to get a couple of bucks for something hot to drink. A hot drink at least would help with the cold outside. It never helped with the cold he felt inside. He walked slowly to the edge of the row of windows. It wasn’t good for the clerk to see him because they might come out and shoo him away, it had happened before. Alex stood quietly by the edge for a couple of seconds. Again, he smelled the roses. This time strong enough to make him look behind him. Of course there wasn’t anything there.
A man came out of the store and stopped long enough to look Alex’s way. He didn’t say anything; he just came towards Alex and stopped just a few feet from him.
“You want something hot to drink?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you very much,” Alex replied looking down at the ground.
“Please, don’t be ashamed, I’ve been in your shoes. Come inside and I’ll get you some coffee or hot chocolate, whatever you like.”
The two walked into the store and the man bought Alex a hot coffee without any more questions or conversation. Alex was appreciative and tried to shake the man’s hand as he started out of the store. The man only smiled and went to his car, giving Alex a short wave and another smile as he drove off.
He walked back out into the cold with the staring eyes of the man behind the counter. It didn’t matter how many times this happened to him, his shame always showed through. The store employees always distrusted the homeless people in the area, thinking they were only beggars; they didn’t understand or even seem to want to.
The coffee felt good on his cold hands as he wrapped them around the cup. Alex put his lips above the steaming black drink, taking in the hot steam on his face. He didn’t particularly like the taste of coffee, but the bittersweet scent sent memories through him of mornings when he would wake up to breakfast at home.
He reached the edge of the building, again taking in the unmistakable whiff of roses in the air. It must have been something thrown away in the dumpster that kept the aroma within the area. He took a deep breath, soaking in the smell with all the wonders of a floral arrangement. It was so strong, so beautiful that there was no way it was a left over smell.
“What cha doin?” he heard a small voice from behind him ask.
Clearly shocked, he opened his eyes and looked around behind him and then turned back to the front. Finally he looked down and to the side, and saw a small girl sitting on a cast aside chair by the alley.
She was only ten or eleven years old, and had a radiant glow about her. Her hair was short, reaching to her shoulders. She had something in her hands and wore a white coat, draped with a red scarf around her neck. There was no adult around, just her on the chair.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked her.
She looked at him with her eyes gleaming in the dark. They were so blue he could see the color even in the darkness.
“My name is Kristin, what’s yours?” she said.
Alex was unsure what to do with this little person in front of him. It was getting late, and the darkness didn’t seem to faze her whatsoever. He looked around once again, back to front and side-to-side. There was no one else around. Then he noticed the scent of roses was coming from her direction.
“Do you like your coffee?” she asked with a smile.
“How did you know it was coffee?” Alex asked as he looked into the cup.
“Oh, I just knew, all of you adults drink coffee,” she said in a matter of fact manner.
“Aren’t you cold?” he asked her.
“I’m okay,” she said, and then started walking up the alley that Alex had just come down.
“Wait, you just can’t walk away, where’s your parents?”
She kept walking and then just stopped as quickly as she started. She turned around and looked at Alex with an inquisitive stare. Her face was bright with beauty, and Alex could still see the blue in her eyes. She smiled her childlike grin, still standing still in the darkness of the alley.
“Won’t you come with me?” she asked. “I have something to show you.”
She turned and started walking slowly this time. Alex followed as instructed. He felt as if he had no choice. Something was forcing him to see what she was talking about, and then the smell of flowers hit him again. This time it was something that took him a minute to recognize, a whiff again and he realized it was lavender. The sweet smell of the purple flower filled his senses with summer and the times he used to spend with his wife and children.
He continued to follow the small shadow in front of him. She turned and went in a different direction, into a lit area ahead of them both. He quickened his pace, for some reason he knew he couldn’t lose her around the corner. His quest now was to catch up with her and find out why she wanted him to follow.
She poked her head back around the corner, “Are you coming, or not?” she said with a slight laugh.
Alex reached the edge of the street where she was standing with her back to him. She had something in her hand, but he wasn’t sure what it was. He walked up behind her, and she turned around. It was a small piece of paper placed between her fingers, holding it tightly; she tried to hand it to Alex as he stopped walking.
“This will make you happier,” she said, and placed the paper in his hand. “Take it back to the store and tell the man at the counter to check it, I think it’s a winner.”
He looked at the paper and saw it was a lottery ticket. It had only one row of numbers on it, all circled neatly. On the back of the ticket was a name in pencil, Sandra, scribbled as if a child had written it.
“Where did you get this?” he asked her as he looked at the ticket. “You’re much too young to play the lottery.”
“Someone gave it to me, and so I’m giving it to you.”
Alex didn’t play the lottery. With what little money he could scrounge he used for food, or if he had a particularly lucky day, he could buy something to wear. Sometimes he would save enough to get a room at the dump they called a motel at the end of the street. Money for the lottery was something in the past. He did watch how much it was sometimes, looking at the numbers on the sign that was perched above the street on a building advertising the millions that could be snatched by a winner. He recalled the last sign bragging the millions of dollars that could be won. He had thought lotteries only contributed to people’s dreams, not their reality.
He looked up from the ticket and noticed that Kristin had left, she was nowhere in sight. He turned and looked behind him, then down the alley, but she was nowhere to be seen, “That’s strange,” he said out loud. The fragrance had disappeared with her.
“What’s that?” a man’s voice said behind him.
Alex turned and saw a man standing there. His name was Kurt, and Alex knew him from around the streets. He was the only one that Alex felt he could talk to. Alex supposed they had become friends, at least as friendly as you became out here.
Kurt was bundled up in just about every ounce of clothing he owned. Two scarves were wrapped around his neck and Alex could see he had at least three coats on. His arms stuck out at his sides like an overstuffed doll. His straggly hair hung out of a stocking cap under a baseball cap. He could see his eyes above the scarf, but that was about all
“There was a little girl,” he said, and then turned around once again to make sure he didn’t miss where she was standing. “She was just here, she gave me this,” and he showed the ticket to Kurt.
“Didn’t see nobody there when I walked up, you got any money?”
Alex dug into his pocket and retrieved two dollars he had promised himself earlier to give to Kurt. They shared sometimes, never much, but if one had something, then the other one could get a little of it.
“Thanks,” he said as he started down the alley. “I can get some coffee now, you coming?” Kurt scurried down the alley, waddling with his arms stretched out on each side, the dollar bills poking out of his hand as if they were trying to escape.
A small smile came onto Alex’s lips; it was something that hadn’t happened for a while. The sight of Kurt trying to walk with all the clothes on was a site that could bring a chuckle of laughter to even the worst of days. He followed his friend to the store to see if he could muster up another coffee from someone exiting the store. He had just given his last two dollars to Kurt after all. He might check the numbers for the ticket as well while he was there.
Kurt had already disappeared into the store when Alex reached the corner of the building. He had gone quickly in to get the warmth of not only a cup of java, but the warmth of the store as well, at least for a few minutes. Alex followed to the front door. When he opened it, he smelled the roses once again. He turned and looked both right and left with no results, there was no little girl. He opened the door and went inside.
He walked to the back of the store where Kurt was and stood next to him while he poured his coffee into a Styrofoam cup. Quietly, he pulled the ticket from his pocket and held it close to his chest. The butterflies were fluttering nervously in his stomach as he touched Kurt on the shoulder. Surely, the little girl was just kidding about the ticket being a winner. The odds were too great to be true.
“I should see whether these numbers are any good, shouldn’t I?”
Kurt looked at him with anticipation, “Where’d you get that?”
“I told you, the little girl gave it to me.”
“What little girl?” Kurt asked looking up into Alex’s eyes. Alex saw the skepticism on his face.
Alex didn’t respond, he just turned and started to the counter to get the numbers from the last Power Ball drawn the night before. As he walked through the store, the smell of the roses returned, now stronger than before. He stopped again and looked around. His anticipation was stronger now than it had ever been.
He stood in front of the counter looking at the clerk, “Do you have the last winning numbers for the lottery?” he asked, still not making eye contact.
Without saying anything the clerk reached over to his right and snatched a small piece of paper with the winning numbers on it.
“Where would you ever get a lottery ticket?” he said laughing slightly.
Alex took the paper, then nervously turned and walked back to where Kurt was standing, finishing an illegal cup of coffee.
“You gonna pay for that?” the clerk yelled from the front of the store.
Kurt started to walk past Alex, when he put his hand out, placing it on Kurt’s shoulder. Kurt stopped in his tracks and looked at Alex’s face. Alex was as white as a sheet, with his eyes open as wide as they would open. His mouth was agape with his tongue going back and forth across his lips. Kurt noticed Alex’s hands were shaking tremendously with the lottery ticket in one and the piece of paper the clerk had handed him in the other.
Kurt started to speak, but Alex put his finger on his lips to indicate quiet, “Don’t say a word, Kurt,” he said in a whisper.
Alex turned around and slowly walked up to the counter and looked at the clerk. He stared directly into his eyes and smiled a wide smile.
“You might want to be nicer to him, after tonight he could buy this store if I let him.”
It was that moment that changed his life. An accidental ticket would deliver him into the arms of an amazing desire to help others, and take him to new and exciting adventures, this he was sure of.