THE GOOD GUYS. (Part 1 of 3)

 

PROLOGUE

“911, what's your emergency?”

“Help me- Oh, dear God, please, help me!”

“Sir, what exactly is your situation?”

“We need an ambulance. Denise is unconscious and there’s so much blood, and I- I don’t know what to do!”

“Okay. Sir, please try to remain calm and stay on the line. Your call is being traced and there'll be officers at your location, soon. What’s your name?”

The line crackled. “Sir, what is your name?”

“It’s Jeremy. Dr. Jeremy Brookes. Please, hurry!”

***

CHAPTER ONE.

IT was dark and really windy- as though the weather had picked up on the turmoil in his head. The man chuckled. As least, something could feel his hurt.

He heaved, as he dragged a bag through the forest, dry leaves and sticks crackling under his boots. As cold as it was, he felt hot all over.

His pulse raced, as the adrenaline rush in his veins made him feel nothing short of godlike.

Ten miles away, a woman screamed in horror and slumped.

He grinned.

***

Barr. Mason Jackson was at his favorite lounge. It had been an awfully long day and as much as he'd have loved to go home, there was still some unfinished business to be attended to.

“Here you go. A martini, shaken not stirred,” Anita, his favorite waitress said, rolling her eyes at the last part. “Honestly, Mason, you're a grown man. Shouldn't you have moved on from the James Bond franchise by now?”

Mason pouted. “You wound me, Annie. My ego is quite fragile, you know.”

Anita Laura Burnett rolled her eyes again. Although, sixty-two, and twice divorced, she still swore that Mason was the biggest charmer she had met, in all her life. Three years ago, she'd been at a really crappy place, what with being served divorce papers, out of the blues, by that spineless coward she had called a husband.

Ten years of marriage and suddenly, he was gay. That identity hadn't lasted, though, she thought wryly, as a week after the divorce proceedings were over, he had moved in with her therapist. And Anita couldn't help but notice that Dr. Dana conveniently lacked a penis.

After that whole fiasco, Annie skipped town and made a home here, in Paradise, Texas, where she set up a little, cozy lounge, courtesy of the alimony and properties she'd gotten in the divorce.

She'd met Mason and his wife, a little after a year. He was the son she would never have.

Speaking of whom. “How's Kate? I haven't seen her in a while.”

Mason shrugged, as he sipped his drink. “Can't say, I'm afraid. A spontaneous trip with her girls, maybe? You know how adventurous she can get.”

Oh, Annie knew how adventurous Kate was, alright. Everybody knew, except, it seemed, the main person who should have been aware. Shooting him a quick glance, she sighed, internally.

Poor guy. Why do the good guys always finish last?

Mason, on the other hand, seemed oblivious of her worry, as he looked at the time and sprang to his feet. “Damn it, Annie! I told you to remind me about my meeting!”

The waitress arched a brow. “That was last week, genius, and I did.”

Hours later, Mason was pulled into the driveway of his personal doctor and best friend, Jeremy Brooks. An hour ago, he'd gotten a strange call from him, asking for help. Knowing him, though, it was probably a prank.

Or maybe not.

There were police cars in front of Jerry's house. Some officers were taping round the front, while others were either scoping out the premises or talking to the neighbors.

Mason tried calling Jerry, but it didn't go through.

Switched off.

“Sir, I'm going to need you to move back, please. This is a murder crime scene.”

The officer, speaking, looked to be in his twenties and, if Mason wasn't wrong, had a glint of excitement in his eyes.  He couldn't blame him, though. This was Paradise, and it was as quaint as any town could get. The worst crime to happen in a place like this was accidental forest burning or small scale burglaries.

“Wait. Who was murdered?”

“Sir, I'm afraid that's not for me to say. Right now, there's a forensic team, out back, collecting evidence.” The officer responded, before making a move to leave.

“You don't understand,” Mason insisted, pulling him back. “This is my best friend's home. Is Jerry okay?”

The officer looked him over, trying to discern if his claim was legit or if he was another overly eager reporter, trying to get a scoop. Finally, he put a call through and whatever was being said to him, caused his mouth to tighten. “Sir, what's your name?”

“Mason. Mason Jackson.”

“Hours earlier, Dr. Jeremy put you on, as his lawyer, but I'm afraid there's nothing much you can do here, as he's already been taken to the station.”  

Mason scrunched his brows. “Why exactly was he taken into custody?”

“Sir, he's the prime suspect in the murder of a Mrs. Katherine Jackson.”

“Kate? Jerry killed Kate?!”

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Heeeeeeeyyyyy, besties! It's me, your beacon of light. I know... I know... It's been ages, but in my defense, I have absolutely no defense. 

*hehe*

Anyway... A friend recently reminded me of this particular piece and I decided, for my birthday, to upload it. Why not, right? 

It's a three-part short story...ish, and I hope you enjoy reading it, as much as I had enjoyed writing it. 

Hugs and kisses, 

Vicki. 💖💖