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Interesting Thought

For whom does a troubled mind quell, if not oneself, conductor of the very symphony of thoughts in which we find ourselves entangled? - S. E. Meyer

Legacy Of Love

Legacy Of Love


There was a time when I awoke,
Upon my partner I would stare.
Is her smile my favorite feature?
Or her glowing auburn hair?
As I lay there gazing, the sun slipped into the skies,
I knew what made life brighter,
T'was the sparkle in her eyes.

Our passion quickly grew entangled,
we cinched it to a tidy knot.
Our love grew ever stronger,
The bond and friendship that we wrought.
But when we tucked ourselves to bed,
The sun had long since set.
I knew all things would be alright,
When 'neath the sheets our feet had met.
A reassuring kiss good night or icy toes between my thighs,
Yet the safest that I ever felt,
Was when I looked into her eyes.

Blessings abound, a child at our feet,
And soon there was another.
It was a joy to watch us grow,
For my wife became a mother.
Our family did grow larger,
Diapers, bottles, late night cries.
When one night it was I who wept,
For I saw their mother in their eyes.

My cup do runneth over,
And this story does not end.
It twist and turns, hand in hand,
We take each rolling bend.
Prayers and hopes and dreams do come,
And if I may be so bold.
A hope that one day there would be,
another hand to hold.
Another chance at tickle fights,
Children's books and toys.
Happy thoughts of yesterday,
When I had little boys.

And then one day it happened,
Another life was born.
It couldn't have been more perfect,
A baby girl in early morn.
She grasped my little finger,
Now, my turn to utter cries.
For I could see her father's mother,
Looking back through emerald eyes.

Blessings, peace and love do run,
from my overflowing bowl.
But the greatest love I ever felt,
Was through the windows of her soul.

And through all the love and life we've shared,
Again, lying here I pray.
Still many blessings in disguise,
Although some hairs now turn gray.
'Neath blankets warm and cuddly,
We stir with morning sighs,
But still the greatest joy I feel,
Is when I'm looking in her eyes.

~S.E. Meyer

Copyright 2016

Prologue from 'Montana Wool'

Prologue from 'Montana Wool'

Copyright 2015 S.E. Meyer

Unauthorized use of this material is prohibited by law.


Cold, she thought, fighting off a shiver as the north wind leaped down from the hills and into the streets below. Too cold for early September.
Battleship-gray skies swirled overhead as Montana Wool ascended the concrete steps of the apartment building, two at a time. She crawled further inside the black wool coat that hung from her strong shoulders and then hopelessly tried to brush the hair away from her young face.
Arriving at the building's entrance, she tried to fight the elements again, this time successfully prying the natural curls from her blue-gray eyes. Eyes that matched the day's forecast. Eyes that contradicted her portrayal of innocence. Eyes that would change from a sky-blue to a piercing silver, depending on her mood.
At times, they were the kind of leaden-blue that appears at first light on any given cloudless morning. That's how Billy would describe them, settling into the blankets to enjoy a few moments of pillow talk.
'My Anna, with heavenly blue eyes,' he would say.
Anna was what he called her, along with most everyone she knew. Anna remembered how he would look deep into her eyes, how he would get lost in them; a lone ship, adrift in morning sky-blue waters.
But not today...
Not since...
Anna struggled with the door, along with her thoughts of Billy. She reached out, hands trembling on the cold metal handle as the smell of autumn filled her senses. The taste of dying leaves stung the back of her throat, a bittersweet distraction, helping to exorcise Billy from her mind.
I have to stay focused.
Finally succeeding at overcoming both obstacles, Anna entered the building with a sigh.
As if in response to her relief, Mother Nature slammed the door behind her with the contempt of a spoiled child.
Anna jumped, clutching her chest.
Deep in her bones she knew that the smell of decaying foliage wasn't the only thing in the air. The autumn gusts had a companion; a dark passenger.
A sense of foreboding oozed into Anna's psyche from the ether like a bitter marmalade.
Something is coming, she thought.
It made Anna want to run away screaming to her bed and the safety of her covers. The warm folds of her blankets, calling out to her, pleading to caress her smooth skin as they often did while she dressed in the morning.
Anna took a moment. She gathered herself together, pulled her wool coat up around her neck, and then pushed the feelings aside.
Shake it off. You have a job to do.
After thoroughly dethatching a dried oak leaf from her hair with her fingers, Anna scanned her police ID at the second set of doors. She made her way through the doorway and then on to the seventh floor, via the elevator. Halfway down the hall she met a thirty-something, portly officer, standing in front of an open door. It was crisscrossed with yellow police tape that read 'Crime Scene Do Not Cross' in large black letters.
“Agent Wool,” Anna said, flashing her badge in front of the man.
The officer leaned in closer and inspected her credentials. “Go on in,” he replied. “No one else has been here since the police were called this morning. The stiff is inside. The scene should be completely untouched and the coroner is on his way with forensics,” he explained.
Anna nodded while making her way through the doorway, ducking under the yellow and black tape as the polite officer held it above her head.
“Thanks,” she responded, pausing to read the name tag on the officer's uniform, “um, Gregorsson. You can head out if it's the end of your shift.”
Gregorsson tilted his head to one side as though considering Anna's suggestion. “Believe me, I would love nothing more. My wife is in labor as we speak and about to give birth to our first baby,” he announced enthusiastically. Anna watched as his expression changed to disappointment. “But I have to stay until I'm relieved by someone on my opposite shift.”
“A new baby? That's exciting,” Anna replied with a smile and then shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Anna moved deeper into the living quarters, studying her surroundings. The lavish furniture that littered the kingly living room was flipped over and piles of debris peppered the antique rug at her feet. Anna noticed all the drawers in the house had been carried to this room and then emptied onto the floor. The barren drawers themselves were left lying in a disheveled heap in the middle of the room atop their pillaged contents.
What a mess, Anna thought. I don't know how some people manage to make enough money to live on their own like this, and have such expensive things. I work my tail off and I'm still living with a house full of people.
It was the rug that caught Anna's attention.
She pulled a pair of latex gloves from her pocket and proceeded to inspect the floor covering more closely. She put the gloves on and noticed a hand protruding from the mounds of drawer contents. A hand with only two fingers.
Anna bent over and moved a stack of magazines to reveal the man that owned the maimed appendage.
There you are.
“Minus two fingers and a thumb,” she said out loud. Anna bent down on one knee, disturbing the rug. The musty smell of the antique tapestry immediately filled her senses. She waved her hand in front of her nose to ease the smell, and to dislodge the fly that had landed there. “Let's see what else we've got here,” she said as she brushed more debris from the man's face.
There was dried blood covering the man's left cheek and his jaw was hanging open, disclosing a truant tongue. Anna turned up her nose at the sight of it.
“So who have you been talking to? Or were about to talk to?” Anna asked the corpse in a low whisper.
Anna's phone chimed. The usual quiet message notification reverberated through the silence of the room like an artillery shell.
Anna jumped.
What is wrong with you? Stop being so jittery, she scolded.
Anna tore the glove off her right hand and then fished the phone from her pocket. She read the screen.
'Your paycheck has been deposited.'
See? Nothing to worry about, she soothed.
Anna looked at the balance. “Damn. Finally broke five-thousand.” She slipped the phone back in her pocket and stretched another glove onto her right hand. I finally have enough, she thought. Her heart leaped with excitement. After four years of saving, I'll finally be able to get my own place.
Anna's phone chimed again. She growled with frustration while pulling the glove off her hand for the second time.
'Get out of there.' she read.
Anna wrinkled her brow, not recognizing the sender's number.
The phoned chimed again.
'You need to get out of there. Now. But first you need to do something. Someone is coming. I'm going to call you.'
Anna felt a lump forming in her throat. She hit the reply button, but as she did her phone rang. She pressed the talk button. “Who is this?” she asked.
“That's not important,” replied a gruff elderly voice. The tone of which held a familiar accent that Anna couldn't place.
“Get a knife from the kitchen. You need to cut something out of his thigh.”
“What? No, I'm not doing anything with the body until the coroner and forensics get here.”
“We don't have much time,” the man yelled through the phone, then calmed himself. His husky voice took a milder tone. “Listen Anna, you need to do what I say or people are going to get hurt.”
Anna stiffened.
She stood up off the rug, waving her free hand in the air. “Are you threatening me?” she asked.
Gregorsson stepped across the threshold from outside the doorway. “Are you okay in there?” he asked. “Do you need any help?”
Anna ignored the officer, her attention now solely focused on the words slowly trickling into her ear.
“Look out the window and see for yourself,” the mysterious voice urged.
Anna pressed the phone hard against her skull. Her ear turned white from the lack of blood flow as she looked out the dining room window and scanned the view below.
Anna watched two black vehicles pull up behind her car and three men step out.
“See, I told you. They're coming. They're coming for it and they'll kill anyone who stands in their way.”
The hair on the back of Anna's neck stood up and her heart began to hammer against her chest.
Sucking in a breath through pursed lips, Anna turned away from the window. “Who are you? How do you know that? And how do you know my name?” She fired off the questions like a semi-automatic weapon as her pulse pounded in her neck.
“They'll be at your door any second Anna. Quick now, get a knife from the kitchen and cut open the dead man's right thigh. You're running out of time. It won't be hard to find what you're looking for. You should feel a slight bump under the skin where it's located.”
“Where what is located?” Anna asked in frustration.
“The wireless flash drive.”
“Um, ma'am, are you sure you're okay?” the officer asked from the entryway.
Anna waved the officer off. Her expression changed from confusion to anger. “I'm not just going to go tampering with a crime scene. Who the hell are you?” she yelled into the phone.
“It's too late, they're already there,” the stranger replied into her ear.
Three men pushed past the officer outside the door and entered the apartment. They were dressed in expensive suits that matched the opulence of the room, but the drab color of their garments blended more readily with the gray undertones of the ambiance outside.
An average looking trio, other than the quality of threads that clung to their ordinary frames. The man in the middle pulled out a gun and pointed it at Anna. He seemed to be the one in charge and spoke first. “Where is it? If you give it to me now I might change my mind and not kill you.”
Anna swallowed hard. She felt her cheeks flush from with adrenaline as her pulse throbbed in her ears.
Anna maintained eye contact with the man in front of her as she slowly regained control of her senses. “What the hell is going on?” she asked, while studying his face with her blue eyes. “What do you think you're doing barging in on my crime scene?”
Anna's nostrils flared then retracted, a subconscious effort to block out the sting of the man's overpriced cologne.
Officer Gregorsson pulled his gun and pointed it towards the men. “Hold it right there. Who are you guys?” he demanded.
Anna felt a momentary sense of relief. Glad someone has my back.
“Let's see some ID here-,” Gregorsson continued.
Without hesitation, the man with the gun turned towards the officer and fired his weapon. Gregorsson was cut off by a bullet entering just above his left eyebrow that exploded through the back of his head.
Anna's stomach cinched into a painful knot while a cresting tsunami of sudden panic crashed down onto her chest.
“Run,” the stranger's voice commanded into Anna's ear.
Anna barely heard him, in shock from watching the inside of Gregorsson's head slide down the wall behind him.
A fresh wave of adrenaline hit Anna in the chest.
“Run!” the voice in her ear repeated as the man with the gun in front of her took aim.
Anna ran to the kitchen, pulling her gun from its holster with her right hand while still pressing the phone to her ear with the other. She ducked through the open doorway as a bullet splintered the wood trim next to her cheek. Anna spun her torso. She aimed her weapon around the corner and fired three rounds through the doorway.
Anna blinked. The color of her eyes slowly changed from baby-blue, to a peircing gun-metal gray.



***


“Shall I bring you another, sir?” A tall, thin butler asked from the shadows as the bald man sitting before him drained his glass. The old man finished with a slurping sound from between two perfect cubes of ice. He then carelessly dropped the glass onto the serving tray next to his high backed chair.
“Indeed,” the elderly man grunted in response through one vocal cord. The other had collapsed years ago, turning his voice into a thin, hoarse whisper.
“Your guest has arrived. Shall I bring him in along with your drink sir?” The butler asked. He received an uttering through the elderly man's hollow cheeks that only years of service allowed him to translate. The servant took the tray and exited the richly decorated drawing room through a set of twelve-foot high oak doors.
The bald man slid a cigarette from its silver case with age spotted hands. Forcing a swallow, he lit the end of it with a match and inhaled deeply as a middle-aged, well dressed man entered the room, followed by the butler.
“Is it done, Damarion?” the bald man squeaked through a smoke-filled exhalation.
“Right to business then Cornelius?” Damarion replied, wringing his smooth, callous-free hands. He raised a freshly waxed eyebrow that sat perfectly above his handsome face. “My men are taking care of it as we speak.”
“Your incompetent men should have taken care of it last night.”
“I told you, they searched the apartment all night and found nothing. Even torture proved unsuccessful.”
“Good, all is according to plan then. It's not in his apartment, it's in his leg.”
Damarion jolted. “His leg? A bit of information that would have been helpful before the deed was carried out I should think,” he replied while absentmindedly flicking the manicured nails of his third finger and thumb across each other.
The butler placed a fresh glass of brandy next to Cornelius. “That's because you have no idea what's really happening here Damarion. The temptation of a wounded rabbit pinched in a snare, is enough to draw a wolf from the safety of his lair.”
“What are you talking about Cornelius? I'm not following. Is there something I should know?”
“I was not able to inform you of the change in plans over the phone, our communications have been compromised. That's why I called you here this morning. The trap is set. The Wolf will be there.”
“At the scene? How do you know he'll be there?”
“Because what's most precious to him is in danger of being lost.”
“The flash drive?” Damarion asked with hesitation.
Cornelius smiled through yellowed teeth. “He'll be there. Bring me the Wolf, Damarion, and I will see you get what you want. What you've always wanted, as promised,” Cornelius rattled. He took another deep drag from his dried tobacco leaves pinched between bony fingers.
“As I said, my men are taking care of it as we speak.”
“And as I told you on the phone, my inside man said Agent Wool has already been dispatched to the scene.”
“Yes, and you also said she was alone. Her partner wasn't with her.”
“You underestimate Anna Wool, Damarion.” Cornelius leaked through a throaty whisper. “She's not just any agent.”
“I sent five men,” Damarion replied. He paused, staring into the old man's blood-shot eyes and then displayed a charming smile that had led many women astray. “I'm pretty sure they can handle one little girl,” he finished.
Cornelius responded in a matter-of-fact tone, rolling the cigarette between his yellow thumb and index finger. “No Damarion, your men are already dead.”
A look of shock came over Damarion's face. “How do you mean?” he asked.
“If Anna Wool doesn't kill them, the blast surely will,” Cornelius explained.
“Blast?” Damarion's new expression of shock pushed his eyebrows ever closer to his hairline.
Cornelius smiled again. “Yes Damarion. You will need to send more men. Send them immediately. I want the Wolf, either alive, or in bits. I don't care which, just bring him to me.”
“And what about the flash drive?”
“As I said, the trap is set. Forget the flash drive, the explosion will incinerate any information on it. The Wolf will die and finally, any rebellion left from within the walls will die with him. He's the last one.” Cornelius leaned closer to Damarion. “You see, whoever removes that flash drive from the dead reporters leg will detonate the charges my men set in the building very early this morning.”



***


“Now what?” Anna asked the man on the other end of the phone. “If you're trying to help me, what do I do now?”
“I told you. You need to get the flash drive from the dead man's leg.”
Anna shook her head. “What's so important about the flash drive?” she asked.
“Because Anna, it was your mother's. If you want to find out the truth behind her death and live long enough to find her murderer, you need to do exactly as I say.”
Anna's head began to swim. My mother's? she thought.
One of the men appeared in the second entryway to the kitchen. Anna aimed and fired two shots into the man's chest. Distracted, the two men behind Anna went unnoticed. The first man grabbed her from behind. She dropped the phone as she drove her elbow into the man's face. Instinct took over as she turned, jumped and kicked the man in front of her hard in the chest, pushing him backwards into the man with the gun. As Anna fell back to the floor, she dropped to a crouching position. Leaning, she fired three more rounds. The bullets ripped through both men and they fell to the floor.
Anna ignored the pain in her chest while wrestling with the adrenaline induced tremors in her hands. She held her position for several seconds, breathing hard, as she watched the men die.
Anna pulled in a long breath through her nose and slowly exhaled to calm herself. She scanned her surrounding and snapped the phone up off the floor. As she did, she noticed the kitchen cutlery block of knives sitting sideways on the floor, directly behind the dead men.
Could this really be a chance to find mom's killer? she thought. Anna hesitated, knowing what tampering with a crime scene could do to her career.
But...why?
It wasn't her mother's death that haunted her as much as why she was killed. Those three letters. The question that burned in the back of her mind. An endless void echoing through her daily thoughts and her beating, but empty, heart. A chasm that only one answer could fill.
'Let it go, Anna.'
That's what everyone kept telling her. Friends. Family. Co-workers. A repeated mantra from people who think they know what's best for another human being, confident their advice will heal the soul.
But who knows best what will heal an open wound than the wounded? For whom does a troubled mind quell, but oneself; conductor of the very toxic symphony of thoughts in which we find ourselves entangled?
They were wrong. Letting go proved impossible. The need for answers. Meaning. Purpose. The truth. They might as well be asking me to stop breathing.
Anna made her decision. In one fluid motion she jumped to the other side of the men, grabbed a long paring knife with a serrated blade from the block of knives and ran back into the living room.
“Okay, now what?” she breathed as she removed the pile of debris from the dead man's legs and began to feel his right thigh for a lump.
“You're alive, that's excellent,” the stranger's voice trickled in her ear. “I'm not surprised. Like mother, like daughter.”
“You knew her? My mother?”
“No time for that now, upper right thigh, cut his pants and cut out the flash drive.”
Anna did as instructed. She cut the man's pants away from his thigh and found a small lump. She drove the knife deep into the lifeless leg and cut out a chunk of flesh, peeling back the skin to reveal a small shiny tube. Anna held it up to the light, inspecting it closely. The unknown metal alloy shell reflected a pink hue through the thin coat of blood that surrounded it.
“Okay, got it,” she said into the phone. “Now what?”
“Run, Anna. Run like the very hounds of hell were at your heels, and don't stop until you get back to the police station.”
Anna stood still, her gaze still fixed on the shiny metallic tube. “Now Anna, go! You're still in danger, you have to get out of there right now, I can only delay it for so long.” The voice demanded.
Anna stood up and made it to the hallway in three long strides, jumping over Gregorsson's lifeless body in the doorway. “Who are you, and how did you know my mother?” she asked as she ran down the stairwell to the ground floor. “And what do you mean delay it. Delay what?”
“It ...done...down...then..okay?”
“What?” Anna asked.
The signal was fading, weakened by the concrete stairwell.
“I didn't get that, you're cutting out,” Anna said as she exited the building. “Shit, damn it,” she yelled out as she looked down at the phone in her hand. 'Call lost, signal faded' was displayed across the screen. She ran to her car and got in, throwing her gun on the seat. Starting the car with one hand she stuffed the metal tube into her pocket with the other before pushing the button that read 'Manual Operation'. The car's audible warning system emanated from its dashboard speakers. 'Manual operation is not recommended.'
Her tires squealed as she hit the gas pedal. “Call Jack,” Anna instructed. The car's on-board computer dialed her captain's number on the phone. “No answer, shit,” she said out loud as a steady beeping sound began to emanate from her pocket. Anna had only made it half a block when an oncoming car suddenly sped up and crossed into her lane, crashing into her in a head-on collision.
Stunned, she shook her head in confusion as bits of glass from the windshield dropped out of her brown locks and into her lap. Her car door opened and a man grabbed her by the arm, pulling her from her seat.
“What's going on?” Anna asked, confused and bleeding from her forehead.
“Give it to me,” the man yelled. “Give it to me now.” he lay Anna on the ground in the middle of the street and began to rummage through her pockets.
Instinctively, Anna drove her palm into the man's nose, feeling the cartilage give way. The man rolled over onto his back and went into a fit of convulsions.
Anna slowly got up, trying to keep her wits about her. She squinted through the blood stinging her eyes and stumbled back towards her car. She leaned into the vehicle and grabbed her gun and phone. She then ran towards the middle of the nearest intersection, bumping into an elderly man along the way. Anna lost her balance, falling to the concrete.
“Excuse me miss,” the man said and extended his hand to help her up off the ground. He was wearing a long, dark trench coat and a scarf wrapped around his face, hiding everything but his green eyes.
She took the man's hand and rose to her feet, steadying herself for a moment. Anna apologized through a wince and holstered her weapon as the elderly man shuffled off to the other side of the street.
She continued to the middle of the intersection and began to wave down the first driver she saw, a younger man driving a sports car. He stopped the vehicle and rolled down the window apprehensively.
“Are you okay? You're bleeding.” he asked.
Anna leaned into the car and turned off the auto-drive feature. “I'm a detective with the police and I need your car, don't worry it will be returned to you in perfect condition.”
Just as Anna spoke, several rounds ripped through the car's rear quarter panel. “Okay, well, almost perfect condition,” she added. “Get out.”
“There's no way I'm loaning my brand new, double hydrogen boost MaClaren to some scrawny little girl.”
A man grabbed Anna from behind. She spun around, moving behind her attacker and with her own weight, smashed the man's face into the roof of the MaClaren. She turned again, placing the man's arm up over her shoulder and pulled it down hard, backwards, breaking it below the elbow.
The driver of the MClaren watched in disbelief as Anna's assailant fell onto the hood of his car and then drop to the concrete, a piece of jagged ulna protruding wickedly from his forearm.
Anna turned back to the driver. “I said get out,” she repeated.
“Okay, okay, I'm going,” the driver replied. He clamored out of the vehicle with a bewildered look on his face and fear in his eyes.
Anna climbed into the red speed machine and took a long breath. Just as she closed the car door, the apartment building she had exited a few moments before, exploded in a deafening roar.
The shock-wave of the blast hit her squarely in the chest and the loud ringing in her ears sent her into a bout of confusion as fragments of glass and concrete began to rain down onto the street in front of her. She stared in awe for a moment before coming to her senses and once again grabbed her phone. She noticed a new text message.
It was from the same number that sent her a text when she first arrived at the murder scene. 'For God sake, get the hell out of there already.'
'Who are you?' Anna typed back. She engaged the manual drive feature on the dashboard then slammed her foot down onto the accelerator. The tires squawked and smoke rolled out from under the car as she sped off towards the police station. There was an immediate reply and Anna glanced down at the screen.
'A Lonewolf'

The Crossing

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