Night walker part 6

Night walker part 6

Detective Earnest Toucahn has been a cop for 8 years, all of them in Harrisburg.  He is good at his job; he likes it too.  Detective Toucahn stood about 6'3 and weighed in at 240 pounds give or take a burger or two.  He worked out regularly in the police gym.  He always enjoyed working out, even as a youngster.  He was sure to stay fit once he became a cop.  He didn't want to fall into the stereo type of the doughnut eating overweight cop portrayed so aptly on TV and in the movies.  He ate doughnuts alright but you would never know it to look at him.  He was a good looking man of 30; the big 3_0.   He was tall, not dark, but oh so handsome.  They say opposites attract, his thick wavy dark brown hair and molten brown eyes were quite the opposite of his fair white skin, that combination certainly did attract the ladies.  With a nickname like Big Bird one might not think him to be handsome.  He got the nickname in high school when he had a growth spurt; his height shot up past most the other kids.  The growth spurt coupled with his last name Toucahn and viola you have Big Bird.  Only his friends called him Big Bird, those with nerve to do so.  To everyone else he was known as Earnie or Detective Toucahn.

Detective Toucahn was sitting at his desk looking at a photo of a missing woman that came off the wire service 30 minutes earlier.  He took another sip of his coffee.  He savored the taste and aroma of the hot coffee.  The squad room was abuzz with activity which was not out of the ordinary.  A call came in for a missing person this morning at 7:33.  Missing person reports were nothing new to the station.  Detective Toucahn took that call at 7:33 and was now looking at the face of his missing person.  She was a beautiful woman, at least in this picture.  The caller told him they were sending over a recent picture, taken at the missing women's company Christmas party last year.  Last Christmas being only a month and a half ago one can deduce the woman would look the same.  Her name was Catherine Ballentine, age 22, red hair, hazel eyes, Caucasion, petite.  In the photo she is wearing a fitted black dress, her hair pulled back and up, modest pearl necklace.  She looked appropriately dressed for a company Christmas party.  Det. Toucahn smiled, thinking she must be a tiny bit spirited to have finished off her appropriate outfit with a leopard pump, the strap circling her small ankle.


by Lu'
02/27/13

Night walker part 5

Night walker part 5

Bertie woke at 10:30 in the morning.  This was pretty much her usual time to wake following a night walking her "beat".  If only she were a cop and not a make believe hooker.  Huh she may not be a prostitute by profession but she was no make believe hooker;  she had the work wounds to prove it.   With this latest charade even Bertie was starting to question her methods.  "Anything for your craft" isn't that what they say?  But would they, any of them, go as far as Bertie has gone this time.  Bertie lay in bed having a discussion with herself.  She liked to lay in the quiet, aside from the constant talking in her head, safety of her bedroom.  The sunlight peeking through the slightly parted drapes she found most soothing.  She enjoyed the quiet of her apartment as it was in such contrast to the noise of the streets. 

Ending this particular conversation with herself, she decides it is time to get up.  Standing in front of the bathroom mirror looking into her eyes Bertie begins once again to question herself and this research assignment she has taken on of her own accord.  Her eyes reflect the horror she has seen on the streets.  The ugliness she has subjected her body to is reflected in those eyes as well.  Look she says to herself, there is no use in crying over what has happened.  I started this and I am going to finish it, end of story or should I say, beginning.   So buck up Missy she says with a curt nod of her head. 

After she finished washing up Bertie heads for the kitchen.  Readying the maker she turns it on waiting for her morning coffee. With anticipation, thinking of her first of cup of coffee she salivates slightly.  Bertie noticed the opened letter from her sister she left unread on the couch from the night before.  Plucking a vanilla yogurt from the fridge she heads to the couch where certain judgment has waited while she slept.   Danielle begins this letter as she does all her letters to Bertie.  Her older sister Danielle, by 2 years, is and always has been predictable. 

There is nothing wrong with predictability unless you were Bertha  Louise Thompson.  Yes, that is B.L.T. you know like the sandwich.  When younger Bertie heard more time than she cared to remember boys offering to supply her with their mayonnaise for her B.L.T.  Boys can be so cruel and many grow up to be equally, if not more so, cruel men.  She was finding this out first hand.  As if growing up with a name like Bertha weren't enough burden in a school filled with Brittanys, Jessicas, kaylas and Tiffanys her initials invited crude sexually based taunts.    

The letter from her sister went on to say Danielle was fine, her husband George was fine.  The kids Paul and Sally were a challenge but they too were fine.  They recently rescued a small dog from the humane society in town.  They named it Scruffy.  The new addition makes them now a perfect little family of 5.  Now on to the judgment, do you think it is really necessary to go off like this?  How long will you be gone this time?  What about Mom?  She worries about you so;  we all do.  I bet you aren't taking care of yourself like you should...

Bertie folds the letter when she has finished reading it.  Nothing earth shattering reported in the letter, no one in trouble, hurt or ill; just the usual judgmental questioning.  Her sister keeps asking the question even though Bertie has never been forthcoming with answers.  Taking the letter to her desk she retrieves stationary from the top drawer of the desk.   She chose pale green with lillies and matching envelope.  Bertie has always taken pride in her stationary.  She laments at the lost art of letter writing.  Now the world is text messages and emails.  Bertie replies to correspondence without fail in fear they might come looking for her if a response was not received; she couldn't have that.  No she could not have people looking for her, especially on this outing, at this juncture, doing these THINGS.

Dear Danielle,
Nice to hear from you but I'd prefer you stopped writing.  Glad to hear all is fine with you and yours why wouldn't it be fine it is always fine.  I wonder if it really is, always fine.  I'm sure Mom is doing well with church and her clubs even though you never fail to deal the Mom card to try and guilt me into coming home.  No doubt she misses me but she understands my methods but would she understand or sanction what I was doing this time, no absolutely not.  Tell her for me if you would that everything is FINE I am walking the streets dressed like a hooker and sleeping with men for money and questioning my own sanity but it's all good.

Love Bertie ♥


by Lu'
2-12-13