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Author's Chapter Notes:

 

To commerate this second birthday for JT2U, here is a Short chapter.... well, FOR ME anyway. Trust me, it's... well, ENJOY!! 

 

 

PRECINCT BLUES CHAPTER 14: SLIP AND FALL


BRANDON


As uneasy as that all had to be to hear, I’d say that Brian and Justin handled it all very well. I think it’s largely in part to whatever communication they had the night before. Lord knows it couldn’t have been easy to witness the lengths Michael was trying to go in order to have Brian where he’s always wanted him. Which brings me to the same question Justin asked: Where the hell is Brian-lite? I think if we are able to find him, and ask some very pertinent questions, all of the holes that exist in this part of the case will at last be answered.


“What are you thinking?” Carl asks, as he comes to rest by my side.


“A couple of things, especially in terms of the man known to us as Brian-lite. I mean, Brian Taylor-Kinney has some pretty unique features, so how is it that the neighbor across the street had the two so obviously confused. And furthermore, where would Michael have found someone that closely-resembling Brian to have been able to pull off such an elaborate ruse. I mean, granted, we’re pretty close to the land of actors and escorts, but…”


“Technically what you’re saying makes sense, but what if the man didn’t come from here? All this speculation is going to do is lead us to another dead end.”


Before I have a chance to respond to Carl, a sharp shout from the two most unlikely people to be involved in this investigation rents the air. “Dammit! I knew it, Stone! I knew there was something else!” Belle exclaims.


“I know,” Stone answers, amazement clear in his voice as well as a little wariness. “But where do you think it goes?”


We walk down to the kitchen where both of them are standing before an open drawer. She responds, “I don’t know exactly, but… Does anyone have the original plans for the structure of this house handy?”


“Coming, Mom,” Daris calls out, rushing past the both of us with both of his hands full of the blueprints. “I was just bringing these your way to see what you and Stone would have made of them.”


“Why?” I can’t help my curiosity. Both Judges Annabelle Linton-Masters and Harold Stone do not look like the type to know anything about housing structures or the like.


Instead of being offended, all three smile. But it’s Daris who answers me, “You will come to learn as I am, Bran, that my mother and her best friend are two of the most resourceful people you will ever meet. Being judges are only the icing on the cake for them, but they have knowledge in a great many things. It almost makes me feel like a slacker by comparison.”


Watching them now with their heads together, I can understand why Daris feels that way. The way they are picking apart the original plans for the house, while comparing it to the reconstruction and additions that Michael ordered, is nothing short of educational in the extreme. I mean, I haven’t been a cop nearly as long as Carl, but even he is standing next to them with surprise in his eyes. Stone is pointing to a particular place on the plans, and all three of them begin studying the surrounding area of the open kitchen. All I see is cabinetry, but apparently they are seeing something else entirely.


“What are they looking for?” I ask Daris, who moved to stand by me when Carl was called over.


“From bits and pieces I gathered, they think that Michael has one or two more secret rooms in here.”


“What for?” I ask in surprise. “I mean, you would think the one he had behind the bedroom to trap Brian would have been enough.”


“For an ordinary criminal, I would have said ‘yeah.’ But this is Michael, and as we’re learning, his brain doesn’t work like anything we’ve ever seen.”


“But most people aren’t textbook, so…”


“So what Daris is trying to say without saying is that between Michael and Lindsay, we need to figure out how they think, since they have managed to keep most of their psychopathic and sociopathic tendencies hidden away from everyone close to them for YEARS,” Alex says, joining the conversation. “Most of the time, a person will live a double-life while indulging those tendencies, sort of like Ted Bundy and John Wayne Gacy. They appeared harmless to most people, which made it hard for people to believe they had committed the brutal murders they had.”


Daris interjects, picking up where Alex left off, “But if you look at Michael’s and Lindsay’s histories, you can’t find one single arrow that points to them being a danger to anyone; just completely selfish, which isn’t a crime. Yet, they have both been committing crimes knowingly, even while seeming to be completely innocent and getting off watching the aftermath up close and personal.”


“So now, we need to figure out just when that became not enough in their eyes. One thing is certain: they didn’t just begin slipping, or concocting this elaborate plot, regardless that Michael was planning to leave Lindsay holding the bag for all of this. They have been planning, both together and individually, FOR YEARS,” Alex finishes driving home the point. 


“EUREKA!!” Belle yells. And while the rest of us just look at her strangely, Stone just looks proud. No way the two of them should look like they just discovered candy, but they do. She stares in our direction before ordering, “Well don’t just stand there looking dumbstruck, young bucks! Get over here and help us move the fridge!”


She then moves over to the corner of the kitchen, which leads out into the long hallway and presses the most inconspicuous button we’ve yet to find in this place, to reveal what is actually the refrigerator. God! I have always wanted one of those, which looks as if it’s just part of the wall. It fits into the plaster and other cabinetry so well, that unless you’re actually looking for the seams, they are impossible to see. It’s obvious that Michael spared no expense setting up Brian’s prison.


An hour, four crowbars, and six men later, we are finally staring at a closed metal door with a padlock that was hidden behind the fridge. I still can’t figure out how Michael would have even visited this room if he had actually succeeded in getting his way to kidnap and incapacitate Brian Taylor-Kinney, and say so. “How the hell would he have gotten behind the fucking fidge? It seems he would have had a contingency even for that. It’s not like he’s some muscle-bound gym bunny with muscles for days like his former partner. I think even Ben would have had a hard time with this one.”


Stone’s eyes light up at my observation, and he crosses over to the now-moved piece of furniture, which is what the fridge really was: a cold, carefully crafted cabinet. After studying it for a few moments, he finds a groove that would allow entry. As the doors swing open, the rest of us join him and can’t stop the gasp at what we find. Not only are there more vials and syringes full of the same clear liquid as we found in the bedroom on one side... But in the freezer… 


“Call the coroner’s office. I think we just found Brian-lite, but the question is: where is the rest of him?” He asks, rhetorically as he stands there examining the head staring back at us with a very Brian-like smirk on his face.

 

All of our eyes shift to the locked door that still stands looming and undisturbed.

 

 

Chapter End Notes:

 

Michael is capable of many things in this story, but MURDER??? Hmmm... we'll see what continues to be uncovered, now won't we?! LOL

HAPPY READING! 

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