Page 2 of Rest In Pink
Then he pulled me back to the alcove behind the glass brick wall that was completely filled with his queen-sized bed and a white bed-to-ceiling bookcase as a headboard.
“This is my happy place,” I said as I scooted back up to the pillows and the books.
“You’re about to get happier,” he said, crawling up to join me, and I decided that Thacker was just being an asshat, that nothing would come of his idiocy, and that I could safely forget about him and just be happy with Vince in our lurid present.
I was wrong, of course.
MONDAY
Posted on BurneyCommunityNews on Facebook, Monday 9 AM:
A horrible person has broken into our Community News moderator feed. We have taken down his libelous post and have reported him to the police and to Facebook, so we’re certain he’ll be in jail soon. Until then, please ignore those terrible posts and do not go to ThomasThacker.online!
Thank you, Faye Blue, Page Administrator Pro Tem
Posted on BurneyCommunityNews on Facebook, Monday 9:15 AM
Have You Heard About The Blues Brothers?
That would be Cleveland Blue, the patriarch of the Blue clan, the guy who moved his cardboard factory to Mexico and put a lot of Burney-ites out of work before he died mysteriously. And there’s his younger brother Dayton Blue, the spare heir, keeping his wife and his mistress in houses three doors down from each other, a daughter with each, including the notorious Liz Danger-Blue, current girlfriend of dour policeman Vince Cooper, ex-girlfriend of town Golden Boy Cash Porter, and employee of shady Anemone Patterson. The real mystery here? Where did all that Blue money that Cleve accumulated come from? And what does Cash Porter know about it? And where does Liz Danger-Blue fit into all of this?
Stay tuned for the shocking answers and more thought-provoking questions. Go to BurneySecrets&Lies at ThomasThacker.online and pre-order the forthcoming tell-all e-book on Burney and all its dark secrets. You will not be disappointed.
Chapter Two
Late afternoon on an early May Monday, after an enjoyable Sunday night, storm clouds on the horizon, I was in the cruiser alongside Route 52, the main two-lane highway that goes through Burney, when the seventh speeder of the day blew by me.
I hate traffic stops, but George was under pressure by the mayor to get the revenue from the tickets up. George had a rough stretch as police chief the past month, and the speeder was a white male in a red Porsche, which is practically begging to get a ticket, so I pulled out for the first stop of the day. I was a little surprised to see the Porsche already turning down into the half of Burney that’s on the river before I flicked on the lights. Burney isn’t a Porsche kind of town. I didn’t hit the siren because the noise gives me a headache, but the lights were enough. The driver pulled to the shoulder pretty close to the spot where I’d stopped Liz Danger five weeks ago. Okay, not that close, but for some reason, every time I pull someone over, I think back to that moment. If there were an equivalent term for ‘ear worm’ for traffic stops, it would be Liz Danger.
Speaking of ear worms, I could hear music thumping away,Thunder Road, by the Boss, which inclined me to be a bit lenient. I fell hard the other way toward ‘fuck you’ when I read the license plate: THACKR.
I didn’t bother to call in to check the plate since the driver had already announced himself.
The music went down, along with the driver’s window, as I reached it.
“Officer Cooper,” Thomas Thacker said, smiling up at me, revealing a fine set of white teeth underneath a thick black mustache. He looked like a hungover Magnum PI. Whoever that actor was in the original version who now pitches reverse mortgages.
I felt like saying, “Nice porn ‘stache,” but what I actually said was, “License and registration, please.”
I was annoyed because we’d never met and he knew me by sight. We don’t do name tags in Burney PD because we know most people and they know us. As far as strangers, if they want to know who we are that badly, there are badge numbers. Or we tell them if they ask because we actually do work for the people.
I wasn’t crazy about being called ‘dour,’ either, although Liz thought it was funny as hell.
As he rummaged through the glove compartment, he chatted. “Fortuitous that you are the first one I meet in Burney. After all, you’re the one who solved the Lavender Blue homicide. Not that it seems to be coming to trial.” He passed me the documents. “I’d love to interview you.”
“I’d love not to.” I took his docs back to the cruiser. People wonder what we do when we sit there, the lights of shame flashing on them from behind. Normally, we check the driver’s license on the laptop bolted to the dash, look for outstanding warrants, and sometimes floss. Instead, I put my cell phone on my thigh and punched Favorites 1, putting it on speaker phone.
Liz answered on the second ring. “Hey, you.”
“Thomas Thacker’s in town.”
“What?Why?”
“I’ve got him pulled over for speeding.”
“Can you get him to go away?”
“What’s it worth to you?”