The Oceanside Chronicles: Season 6, Season Finale

All characters and places in this series are fictional.  Any resemblance they bear to actual people or places is purely coincidental.

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December 23rd, 2016, approximately 9:15 pm:

Larry Murphy didn't like drinking alone. He didn't have to worry about that. He had his brothers with him. Mostly he enjoyed their company but there were times he wished they'd leave him alone and he certainly could do without the company of all the other people in the bar. He wasn't a fan of people. He could tolerate most of them but when he had a few drinks he didn't have much problem telling people what he thought of them. Truth be told: he had a harder time NOT telling people what he thought of them. And since he was already a convict with a felony record, a lot of people weren't very social with him. He was okay with that. He preferred that. Sometimes, if his brothers were with him, people were a bit more social.  Larry guessed it was because people assumed his brothers could keep him in line; make him behave.  He smiled inwardly at that thought.  No one could make him behave. No one could keep him in line. He lived by his own rules and followed his own path. He knew that it was sometimes difficult to be his brother... but blood was blood and there was nothing his family could do about it.

On this particular evening Larry hadn't had much to drink and he was in the company of his two "cop" brothers.  The older one, Jerry, had retired as a lieutenant from OPD and most of the community who knew him considered him an honorable man who had done a good job on the force.  Larry's younger brother, Kevin, was currently an OPD officer and was making a name for himself as well.  It wasn't unheard of. The Murphy family name went way back in Oceanside and most people kind of expected that the brothers would do well. They were hard workers. They weren't known to lie or be drunkards. In fact, with the exception of Larry, the family was generally liked and respected.  Larry wondered if people would like him better if he hadn't been convicted of armed robbery or breaking and entering.  As he tipped up his third cold beer of the evening he decided people wouldn't like him anyway. Most people considered him an asshole... and he just didn't care.

There were bigger assholes in Oceanside though. That, Larry was sure of. For example, that guy Daniel Laidstone.  People called him Danny and treated him like he was okay. But everyone knew that he was one of the prime suspects in the recent spate of kidnappings, rapes and murders. That the victims were all children and male made those who knew about it look on Danny a bit differently. Larry could see Danny at the other end of the bar, laughing and joking, drinking whatever the hell that dark liquid was in a lowball glass on the rocks. It was probably some kind of fancy bourbon, thought Larry.  That would be just like that uppity asshole: drink high dollar drinks like he was high society while he had some kid chained up in his basement.

From the other end of the bar, Danny Laidstone saw Larry Murphy staring at him. On the one hand it made him uncomfortable. Larry wasn't known to be a peaceable fellow and he didn't look happy.  On the other hand, Danny knew Larry wasn't dumb enough to start something in the bar. As a convicted felon, Larry wouldn't want to do anything to attract the attention of the local police. Of course, Danny saw Larry's brothers with him. Jerry and Kevin were both connected to the PD and they'd cover for their brother, wouldn't they?  Danny lowered his eyes and went back to his drink. He didn't need any trouble with any police of any kind for any reason at the moment.

Larry finished up his beer, turning the bottom up and closing his eyes as he drained he last of the beverage down his throat.  Putting the empty can on the bar he signaled the bartender for another. "Don't you think you'd better slow down?" suggested his brother, Jerry.

"What for?" asked Larry. "No one expects good of me and I might as well enjoy the holidays, right?"  Jerry just shook his head. He was of the belief that his brother would never grow up and Larry kept proving him right.

The younger brother, Kevin, chimed in. "Maybe no one expects good of you, Larry, but everyone hopes you'll reign in on being an ass just a bit." Jerry nodded his head in agreement.  Larry took offense.

"Be careful, little brother," he warned. "You might be the police to everyone else, but to me you're still the young snot I used to babysit. I can still put you in your place."

Kevin literally laughed out loud. "There might have been a day you could, Larry..." he paused and met his brother's eyes.  "But that day is long gone and you'd be better off not trying anymore."

Larry felt the heat rise in his face. He didn't like being talked to like that. He didn't like someone challenging his abilities. He didn't like the fact that he really wasn't confident that he COULD put Kevin in his place. He was angry with himself and his brother and embarrassed that anyone nearby might have even possibly heard the back and forth between them. He couldn't stand to think of anyone seeing him be less than the alpha male in any room.  Looking down the length of the bar he saw Danny Laidstone staring at him again and he felt his anger rise even more.  "I gotta piss," he growled at his brothers, putting down another empty beer can on the bar before walking away.

The path to the men's room took him right by Danny Laidstone and Larry made it a point to walk into the man, shouldering him hard out of the way instead of stepping a half step over to avoid the impact. Larry was a larger man that Danny and the impact staggered Danny.  Larry was looking for an excuse to fight and it seemed like everyone in the bar knew it... except for Danny.  "Watch where you're going!" he shouted at Larry.

By the time Larry had taken a breath to answer him, Jerry and Kevin were already on their way down the bar. "What did you say to me?" asked Larry in a quiet voice. "Did you say something to me?" he added on.

Danny didn't realize what the reality of the situation was yet. With a raised voice he said, "Hell, yes, I'm talking to you. I said watch where you're going."  It was only then that he read Larry's body language and saw the look in his eyes.  Larry was reaching for him just as Jerry and Kevin go there to prevent it.

"No, Larry," said Jerry firmly as he grabbed his brothers outstretched right arm.

"Time to go home," added Kevin as he took hold of Larry's left arm.

Danny quickly saw his advantage and couldn't resist poking the bear.  "Yeah, little felon," he said snidely. "Let your brothers take you out of here before you get hurt."

That engraved Larry and it was suddenly a real battle for Jerry and Kevin to keep him off of Danny.  Danny realized his mistake in misjudging the situation and backed off a few steps.  Larry's eyes about bulged out of their sockets and the veins in his forehead stood out as he began to rage at Danny even as his brothers were dragging him away.  "You little shit!" he screamed.  "I'll kill you!  You won't live to see another day!"

Double checking that Larry's brothers had a good hold on him, Danny felt secure enough to go back to his taunts. "Blah, blah, blah..." he said. "Big man while your brothers are here to make sure you don't get into something you can't finish."

At that point even Jerry had had about enough of Danny.  He knew Danny was a suspect in recent crimes, as did Kevin.  Both of them must have had the same thought because Larry suddenly wasn't moving backward anymore, but was standing still, his arms reaching for Danny even as his brothers held him.  "You want we should let him go?" Jerry asked Danny.

Just to put on a good face Danny hesitated a moment before answering.  "No," he finally said. "I don't want to mess up the bar. Go ahead and get him out of here."  With that, drawing on all of his courage, he turned his back on the trio of brothers.  Jerry and Kevin finished what they were doing, not letting go of Larry until they were outside the bar and Larry was no longer straining to move back toward Danny.

"Time to go home," Jerry told him.  "Come on. I'll give you a ride."  Larry looked at him with anger still shining in his eyes.  Jerry didn't really look like he cared about Larry's anger much and Larry had that feeling he hated again. Jerry was sure he'd win the fight if Larry jumped at him.  He had before. He was confident he could again.  Larry was sure Kevin would jump in on Jerry's side. Brothers or not, cops were like that. They always backed each other.

"Okay," Larry said, acting like he was giving in. "Okay."  With that he started walking toward Jerry's car.  Jerry and Kevin said their goodbyes and when Jerry had pulled out of the lot with Larry in his car, Kevin went back inside.  He went back to the far end of the bar and asked Danny outside to talk to him for a moment.

"Why?" asked Danny. "Your brothers waiting outside to jump me?"

"Don't be a bigger asshole than you are," Kevin replied. "I just wanted to talk to you for a minute. You don't wanna talk, that's fine with me." He turned his back and walked away.  What he had wanted to do was warn Danny not to take Larry's threat lightly.  Kevin knew his brother well.  He knew Larry would ambush the man at some point. He wanted to warn Danny to watch his back... but if the man wanted to be an ass, so be it.

- - - - - - - - - -

At about that same time, across town in Max's apartment, Max and JP were snuggled up on the sofa, enjoying a relaxed evening and watching an old movie on television. Neither of them was really paying attention to the TV.  It was on more for background noise than anything else as they talked.

"I'm just asking," said JP. "If you could have picked any gift you wanted for Christmas, what would it be?"

Max chuckled. "I just can't believe you've waited this long to start your Christmas shopping" he said. "Isn't that a guy thing? Waiting until the last minute?"

JP punched him in the shoulder. "I already have my shopping done and IF I got you a gift, I'm just curious as to how close I was to getting you what you want."

"Ohhhhh..." said Max sarcastically. "Right!"

"Come on, Max," said JP sounding exasperated.  "It's a simple question."

Realizing that she was being serious and deciding she'd probably had enough of him being a smart ass Max thought for a minute.  "Well" he finally said, "you can never go wrong getting me three things."  JP kept her eyes on him, waiting to find out what the three things were.  He listed them out. "A watch, a gun or almost anything for my Jeep."

"Okay," she said. "Enlighten me. What kind of watch?"  Max thought for a minute before answering.

"Almost any model from MTM Spec Ops," he said.  "Except for the Falcon, Patriot or Predator models," he added.  "I already have one of each of those."

"Don't you already have about ten watches?" JP asked with a smile.  Max nodded.  She just shook her head and laughed before going on. "Okay... what kind of gun?"

At that Max did laugh. "You want the list?" he finally asked.

JP shook her head. "No, it's a serious question.  You already have your duty handgun, your usual off-duty gun, your rifle and your shotgun. What the heck else do you want?"

Max didn't hesitate in his response.  "I don't have a decent bolt gun. Three oh eight or three thirty eight Lapua would do."  JP let that register and then nodded her head in acceptance.

"Fair enough," she said. "And what do you need for your Jeep?"

That one Max answered quickly. "I don't NEED anything for my Jeep, but there are plenty of accessories and safety items that would be nice to have."

"Such as?" JP asked.

Fire extinguisher, lift kit, bigger tires, auxiliary lights..." he ticked them off on his fingers. "There's always something to be added to a Jeep."  JP nodded her understanding and then it was Max's turn to ask her the same question in return. "So, if you could have anything you wanted under your Christmas tree, what would it be?"

JP thought for a second, smiled and then replied, "You wearing nothing but a red ribbon."  Max laughed at that thought.  This year, much to their mutual disappointment, they wouldn't be together for Christmas. JP was going to visit her mom and Max was going to visit his sister. They'd get together Christmas evening and enjoy the morning after together.

- - - - - - - - - -

December 24th, 2016, approximately 8:20 pm:

“Nine one one, what’s your emergency?” asked the dispatcher after connecting the line.

“My name is Daniel Laidstone and I’m being stalked,” came the reply.  The dispatcher looked at her computer screen to check the location of the caller.  He wasn’t calling from a cell phone. He was calling from a pay phone at a bar according to the info she had. His voice didn’t sound as if he were in distress.  Was this really an emergency? Or was this something the caller could deal with during the day on a non-emergency line.

“Are you in immediate danger, Daniel?” asked the dispatcher.

“Not immediate danger, no,” said Daniel, the exasperation obvious in his voice. He continued before the dispatcher could get a word in. “But I’ve been followed all day by a guy… Lawrence Murphy… a convicted felon who threatened to kill me. And now he’s following me everywhere!”

“Has he approached you or gotten close enough to do you harm today?” asked the dispatcher.

“No,” said Daniel, sounding aggravated before quickly adding, “Well, yes… if he has a gun.”

“Do you have reason to believe that he has a gun?” asked the dispatcher. “Has he displayed a weapon?”

“No,” Daniel replied in a sulky voice. The dispatcher could hear voices in the background and had the information about the bar.

“Are you out alone or with someone you know?” asked the dispatcher.

“I’m out with friends,” replied Daniel. “He’s stalking all of us,” he said with emphasis.

The dispatcher looked at a different computer screen; one that showed a list of the police units working and how many were in service versus how many were on calls. While on the one hand it was a Saturday night, on the other hand it was Christmas Eve and the stupid level was lower than usual for a weekend.  There were two or three units in service and one of them was close enough to send.

“Sir,” she advised, “I’ll put the call for service in so a unit will come check the area. You need to keep an eye out for the police car and approach them with both your hands in plain view when they arrive. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Daniel. “Thank you.”

When the call was disconnected the dispatcher typed the requisite information into the system.  Another emergency communications worker would get it and assign a cruiser to the call. Given the time delays and dependent on the location of the nearest cruiser, the dispatcher thought, Daniel could see a police car in as little as five minutes or as much as twenty. He’d be fine, she was sure.

- - - - - - - - - -

Patrolman Kevin Murphy wasn’t delighted about working on Christmas Eve but he wasn’t fuming about it either. It was part of the job. Most of his brothers had worn a uniform of one kind or another and being a police officer sometimes meant working holidays. It’s just how it is. When the call came through for a reported stalking, Kevin’s first thought was as stereotypical as most probably were; he assumed a woman had called complaining about some guy, whose attention she didn’t want, who was following her, calling her, sending her unwanted gifts, etc. When the “victim” of the stalking was named as Daniel Laidstone and the suspect Lawrence Murphy, Kevin knew immediately what was going on.  He didn’t doubt for a second that his brother was harassing Laidstone.  As angry as Lawrence had been at the bar the night before, Kevin wouldn’t put it past him (Lawrence) to be following Laidstone around. Kevin was surprised the dispatcher assigned him the call. She must not have known that Lawrence (Larry) was his brother. Should he say anything?  No, he decided. This was better handled brother to brother.  God, what a pain in the ass Lawrence was.

As he pulled up to the location given – a bar that was situated on a street corner – he saw his brother among some other people standing outside the bar on the side. The front of the bar was around the corner. As Kevin’s patrol car pulled up, the people with Lawrence saw it and all turned to walk away very quickly; one of them even openly running. When Lawrence looked around to see why his friends were scattering, he saw the police car, saw it was his brother Kevin driving and dropped his head and shoulders as if in frustration.

Kevin called out, parked and got out and walked over to his brother.  “What’re you doing, Larry?” he asked. He didn’t sound accusatory but he didn’t sound pleased either.

“I was just hanging out with my friends,” replied Larry. “But now that you’ve shown up,” he paused and looked around for affect, “they’ve decided I’m no longer worthy of their company. One of the small prices I pay for having brothers on the police.”

“Maybe if your friends don’t like the police,” said Kevin, “you need better friends.” Larry just laughed at that.

“So, what brings you out here, little brother? Were we being too loud?” asked Larry.

“No,” said Kevin sounding aggravated. “We got a call for you stalking Laidstone. He called from inside the bar.”

“This bar?” asked Larry, feigning an innocent look. “I didn’t even know that slimy piece of crap was in there. I should go in and say hi.”

“What you should do,” said Kevin forcefully, “is stay far away from him. After threatening his life last night in front of a ton of witnesses, you should be going the opposite direction from him.”

Larry laughed. “You worry like a little girl,” he said to Kevin. “Laidstone ain’t squat. Never has been. Never will be. If I find him I’m going to wring his neck,” he said. Then he added, “But I haven’t been looking for him and I haven’t been following him. I’ve been hanging out with my friends all day, enjoying the holiday,” he said.  Then he looked around in an exaggerated manner.  “That is until YOU should up and ran them off.”

Kevin shook his head, dismissing his brother’s antics. “Just go home, Larry. Go home and stay out of trouble.”  Larry realized he was being sent away. He didn’t like it but he didn’t want to fight his brother over it. He had been following Laidstone around all day. He didn’t plan to do the little toad any harm but he was pleased to think Laidstone had been scared enough to call the police.  Good.  Maybe he’d learn who he needed to respect. He gave his brother a lazy and half-hearted salute and turned to walk away.

Kevin had been waiting for Laidstone to come out of the bar, but the man hadn’t. Maybe it was because Larry was still there and now that Larry was walking away, perhaps Laidstone would come out? Kevin walked to the front of the bar, calling into dispatch as he did so, reporting the suspects sent on their way. At the front door of the bar Kevin stopped and debated going in. On the one hand he needed to contact the complainant – Laidstone. On the other hand, he didn’t really want to go into a bar full of holiday revelers, while in full uniform, and still potentially not find Laidstone in the crowd. As a compromise, he entered and went to the hostess stand and made small talk for a few minutes with the cute young lady working there. After five minutes of social talk, he excused himself, told her to have a good night and a Merry Christmas… and turned to walk back outside.

Climbing back into his cruiser he called in that the complainant couldn’t be found on scene and that the suspect had been sent on way. The call could be cleared with no report necessary and dispatch could show him back in service.

- - - - - - - - - -

“Could the day go any slower?” Max asked JP through the phone.

“Well, it COULD,” she answered with a giggle. “If you weren’t such a horndog you wouldn’t be complaining.”

“What?” Max asked defensively. “It’s my fault I have a hot fiancé that I don’t get to see until tomorrow night?”

“It’s no one’s fault about the timing,” replied JP with a bit of exasperation in her tone. “As to me being hot… no, that’s not your fault. I get the blame for that one. I work at it… hard.”

“That you do,” replied Max, his smile evident even through the phone connection. “And I greatly appreciate it.”

“You can show me how much tomorrow night,” said JP teasingly.

“Oh, I will!” replied Max with enthusiasm and a chuckle. “How’s your shift going?”

“Probably about the same as yours,” she replied.  “Slow and the Q word…” (Neither of them would say ‘quiet’ because that was just asking for the gods to rain hellfire down on them.) “I just wish I wasn’t stuck in the substation,” she added.

“Yea, me too,” said Max. “If we’re both on the patrol, even when you’re on the beach or boardwalk, at least we can see each other for a meal or quick stop. With you at the substation and me stuck in a patrol beat across town, I won’t get to see you until tomorrow night when we’re both done with the family thing.”

“I promise you it will be worth the wait,” said JP.

“I know it will,” replied Max.  “Love you, beautiful,” he added before hanging up.

“Love you too,” said JP. Each of them pushed the appropriate button on their cell phone, sad that they probably wouldn’t talk again until sometime the next morning, but confident in how great Christmas day would end since they’d be together.

- - - - - - - - - -

December 25^th, 2016: Christmas Day, approximately 7:30 pm:

Max was glad to be home. As much as he loved his sister and her family, and he certainly enjoyed all of the happiness that they shared during the holidays, it was exhausting. He missed JP and he missed the quiet of his own place.  The night before, when he’d gotten off shift, he’d driven straight to his sister’s house. He and JP had spoken just long enough to say good night and offer up thoughts for ‘sweet dreams,’ and then he’d been immersed in family.  His sister’s children… his niece and nephew… had woken up well before sunrise and Christmas had begun.

Like most folks at Christmas, Max spent too much time eating and sitting around after all the gifts had been exchanged and opened.  There weren’t many days in a year when he wouldn’t force himself to exercise, but Christmas was one of those days. He hadn’t complained about getting up early. Lord knows he’d gotten up earlier and under ugly conditions when he’d been in the Navy.  But it was Christmas and he’d gotten up early without complaint for several reasons, not the least of which was that he was looking forward to a nap later in the day.

He’d never gotten the chance though and by the time he’d said his goodbyes after eating more pie than he should have, he was happy to drive home and think about relaxing onto his sofa. He knew JP wasn’t planning on leaving her parents’ house until a bit later in the evening but no matter what time she arrived, he’d be happy to see her. Christmas would end right if they could fall asleep holding each other.

Once he got into his place, he emptied his pockets, took off his gun, kicked off his shoes and got comfortable on the sofa. He turned on the television but turned the volume all the way down and relaxed.  When his eyes felt heavy he let them close, sure he’d wake up at the sound of JP’s key in the door when she arrived.

- - - - - - - - - -

December 26^th, 2016, approximately 4:15 am:

The phone ringing woke Max up. He moved to reach for it and groaned. His neck and back were both stiff from the position he’d been sleeping in on the sofa. He saw that it was dark outside, even as he reached for the phone. He wouldn’t have been able to see it if it didn’t light up when it rang.  “Hello?” he said, now worried about the time, JP’s absence and the phone call.

“Max, it’s Matt Porter,” said the voice on the other end. Matt was JP’s father.

“What’s wrong?” asked Max, instantly awake and concerned. “Is JP okay?” He heard Matt take a deep breath on the other end before he answered, and that small action caused Max’s heart to sink.

“JP was in an accident after leaving here,” her father said. “The doctors say she’ll be okay but she’s banged up pretty good. She’s going to be in the hospital for a day or two at least.”

“Accident? What happened?” Max asked.

“A truck driver apparently fell asleep at the wheel… nodded off… something. He ran a red light and hit JP,” Matt replied. “Thank God it wasn’t directly in her driver’s door. She might not have survived.”

Max let that sink in for a minute, visualizing the scene in his head. It hurt him just to think of it, but JP was alive. He needed to focus on that. “Okay,” said Max as he absorbed what was said. He reached for a pen and notepad. “Can you give me the hospital and her room number?”

“She hasn’t been moved to a room yet,” replied Matt.  “She’s still in the emergency room. As soon as I get the room number I’ll text it to you.”

“Thanks,” said Max. “What hospital? I’ll get a shower and head that way.”

“Get some more sleep,” said Matt in reply. “Visiting hours don’t start until ten and she may not even be in a room yet then. I’ll be sure to let you know.”

On the one hand Max laughed inside about the idea of visiting hours. Most hospitals ignored such protocols for police officers, knowing full well that their work hours precluded such structured visits. On the other hand, JP’s dad was a smart man and offered good words of advice.

“Okay,” said Max. “Text me the information as soon as you have it and I’ll get there pretty quick.”  He thought about his work schedule and was thankful that he was scheduled off that day, not that it would have mattered.  If he’d called Eddie needing the day off, under the circumstances…  Then he realized he needed to call Eddie anyway. He deserved to know. The whole squad would want to know.

“Will do,” said Matt.  “Don’t worry. She’s strong and the docs say she’ll be fine. Sorry to have to call you with this.”

“Don’t be sorry,” said Max. “I appreciate you calling. I’ll look forward to getting the info from you.” The two men hung up and Max immediately headed for the shower, stripping as he went and dumping the wadded up clothes in his hamper.  He planned to shower and get dressed and be ready to go whenever the info came into his phone.

- - - - - - - - - -

December 26^th, 2016, approximately 8:15 am:

Detective Lieutenant Dick Coleman stood to greet his contemporaries, Detective Lieutenant Andrea “Andi” DeSalis and Detective Sergeant Jacob “Mac” MacGregor. Andi and Mac saw Coleman getting up from where he’d been crouched down, looking at a body.  He walked toward them and met them at the edge of the cordoned crime scene area.  Extending his hand first to Andi (out of respect for her rank), he shook hers and said, “Good morning, Andi. Sorry to call you out so early.”  Then he shook with Mac simply saying, “Good morning.” Mac didn’t let it bother him. Coleman was an old school detective and outranked him. Coleman didn’t mean any insult by how he treated those of lesser ranks, but he tended to only do it with other detectives.

“Why did you call us out?” asked Andi. “We’re not due in until this afternoon.”

“I thought you might want to know about this,” replied Coleman simply. He lifted the barricade tape and nodded at them to come inside the cordoned area. All three worked homicide and Coleman was the on duty detective. He should have had a partner, Andi realized, but he was somewhat infamous on the agency for always working alone. Andi and Mac followed him over to the body he’d been looking at when they arrived. It was covered with a yellow plastic sheet, the sheet itself becoming evidence for whatever material it might pick up after coming in contact with the victim.

Coleman once again crouched down and pulled back the sheet to reveal the victim’s face. It was hardly recognizable due to the damage that had been done to it. Coleman looked up at Andi to see if she’d recognize the victim but saw no light in her eyes. “What you’d be feeling is shock right now,” said Coleman, “if you could recognize this victim as one of your primary suspects in the kidnap and murder cases you’ve been working. Meet Daniel Laidstone.”

“Holy shit,” said Mac. “That’s Laidstone?”

“Yeah,” said Coleman.  “M.E. says preliminary cause of death is repeated blunt trauma. Autopsy to verify, but someone beat all holy hell out of him. We identified him from the I.D. in his wallet and cell phone info.”

Andi still hadn’t said a word and Coleman noticed. “Problem, Andi?”

“Not really,” she replied finally. “He was a piece of crap and few, if anyone, will miss him. I was just wondering… if he was our perpetrator for the kidnap murder cases, will we ever get true closure on it? With our primary suspect dead, will we ever have real proof that he was the one?”

“Well,” replied Coleman, “I might be able to help you out with that. From what I understand, he lived alone. As part of the investigation of his murder I need to go search his house. You’re welcome to come along. You never know what we might find.”

Andi nodded as she replied. “Yeah… thanks. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Coleman put the sheet back and in place and stood up.  “I should have the paperwork done by this afternoon and assuming a judge won’t slow us down, we should be in his house before dinner.  That work for you?”

Andi nodded again as they all walked away from the body. “Yeah, sure. We’re on duty at fifteen hundred anyway. Just give me a call and we’ll meet you there.” Coleman nodded; they all shook hands and while he went back to working the scene, Andi and Mac drove away. She dropped him at home and went back to her place, wondering if she’d be able to get back to sleep and deciding instead that she’d head to the gym. Her brain worked just as well while she was sweating.

- - - - - - - - - -

December 26^th, 2016, approximately 9:40 am:

JP woke up to see Max on one side of the bed staring down at her, and her parents on the other. She smiled weakly and then groaned. None of those around her knew what caused it, but it was safe to assume that she’d experience quite a bit of pain as she recovered.  With a broken left femur, several broken rips, a dislocated shoulder, broken clavicle and a severe concussion, her body had been banged up pretty good.

“I won’t ask how you’re feeling,” said Max with a small smile. “But I’ll tell you I’m glad you’re going to be okay.”  JP smiled in return and, with her right hand, reached out to hold his.

“Yeah, kiddo,” her father said. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

“Thanks, dad,” JP replied. Her voice sounded raspy and her throat felt dry. “Water?” she asked to no one in particular. Her mother reached for the cup, held it and bent the straw so JP could sip. They didn’t want to move her bed to sit her up until the nurse and doctor had been in to check on her. The concussion had been pretty bad, as the big bump on the side of her head attested to. She needed to be still for as much of the next 24 hours as she could.

Laying still, JP took inventory of how she felt and what she was feeling.  She registered the soft cast that encased her left arm from elbow to neck; the tight wrap around her ribs with a bandage on the left side; the hard cast that seemed to wrap her left leg from calf to hip and…

“Is that a catheter?” she asked sounding VERY displeased.

“Yes,” replied her mother. “You have to stay in bed for at least the next 24 hours. The doctor said that if you don’t have any ugly side effects from the concussion, you can move after that. So… yeah. That’s a catheter.”

JP moaned. Lay still in bed for 24 hours? She wondered if she’d go nuts. She wasn’t a “hold still and do nothing” kind of person. Still, she thought… Max would likely stay with her, as would her parents – in shifts if need be. She was alive and remembered the moments before the truck ran into her. In those small moments she wondered if she would live to see another day. She had. She’d see many. Her parents and her man were with her. The catheter and immobility were temporary. She’d get through it.

- - - - - - - - - -

December 26^th, 2016, approximately 5:20 pm:

Coleman was waiting for them on the porch as Andi and Mac walked up the front walk of Laidstone’s house. It was a small bungalow, three bedrooms, two bathrooms and (probably, Andi thought) an ugly unfinished basement. It had been built in the 1940s and looked like it hadn’t been painted since the day of its construction. On the other hand, the grass was green in spite of the winter months and it looked like it needed to be cut… “harvested” might be a better word. It was over a foot tall and leaned across the narrow front walk. They had to walk single file just to avoid kicking into it.

At the front door, Coleman knocked hard and long – just in case. Expecting no answer, he had Laidstone’s keys, taken from his body, in hand. After a few minutes he tried key after key until he found the one that worked and unlocked the door.  Coleman pushed the door open, standing to one side out of habit and yelled, “Oceanside Police Department! Anyone here?” The house was silent.

Pocketing the keys, he pulled his handgun – the newer Glock Model 43 chambering a 9mm round – and stepped around the door jam, quickly to one side of the door and finding himself in the small living room.  “Oceanside Police Department!” he yelled again. “Anyone here?”  He heard and, from the corner of his eye, saw Andi and Mac come in the door and move to the other side. Mac had another Glock 43 in his hand but Andi was holding a bigger weapon: the Glock Model 36 chambered in .45ACP. Coleman enjoyed a quick moment of internal humor as he considered the fact that both the G43 and the G36 held the same number of rounds, but the G36 was in a much larger, more potent caliber. What was Andi compensating for he wondered?

As a team they quickly and quietly moved through the house, making sure it was indeed empty. The upstairs bedrooms, closets and bathroom were empty. The ground floor bedroom, kitchen, dining room, living room and bathroom were all empty. The basement was as ugly and unfinished as Andi had expected, but there they found a surprise – and not a happy one.

At one end of the basement… what would have been the back of the house… they found a small padlocked door. It looked to be about three feet tall by two feet wide and constructed of plywood. The hardware holding it shut was heavy duty and there was a padlock on it. Coleman checked the keyring he had from Laidstone but didn’t see a key for the padlock. The three of them looked around the basement and Mac finally found the key stuck to a magnet on the inside surface of an upright supporting a set of metal shelves.

As Andi and Mac stood back, guns still in hand, Coleman crouched and unlocked the padlock, swinging open the door and shining a flashlight inside. What he saw gave him chills.  There was a small room, no more than four feet high, and about eight six feet square. Along the back wall was a thin mattress; the kind usually used for an RV bed or on a fold out sofa. The room stank but Coleman couldn’t tell if it was from the damp coolness of the essentially dirt room, or if there were other odors contributing. Other than the mattress, the “room” was empty.

At that point, Coleman pulled out his department issued digital camera and began taking pictures. Before the evening was through, he expected to take several hundred of them. He’d take pictures of the dirt room, the basement, every room on the ground floor from different angles and every room on the top floor from several angles. Anything he found of interest he’d take additional pictures of. Andi and Mac stayed out of his way as he worked, only holding a flashlight for him if he needed better illumination on a given item he was photographing.

It took several hours and they didn’t really find anything of interest until they got to what Laidstone obviously used as his master bedroom on the top floor. On the floor in the closet was a small throw rug. Under the throw rug were a few loose boards. Under the loose boards they found a suitcase that just barely fit between the floor joists. Inside the suitcase they found several sets of children’s clothing. By the time they’d cataloged all of it, they’d found six full sets of clothing that would fit kids between the ages of six and ten (they were guessing).

Although everything was being cataloged under Coleman’s homicide investigation which held Laidstone as the victim, Andi and Mac considered the children’s clothing evidence against Laidstone in their serial kidnap/murder investigation.

When they were done in the house, Coleman locked it back up and they all gathered around the trunk of his cruiser.  “There’s one thing we have left to do,” said Coleman after he closed his trunk lid.  He went to the front passenger seat of his car and pulled out a folder which he handed to Andi. While she looked at the contents, Coleman dialed his phone.  When whoever he called answered he said, “Patrolman, it’s time. Where do you want me to meet you?”  He listened, said, “Okay,” and hung up.

What Andi read were witness statements taken from people who had been in a bar on December 23rd. Every statement said (effectively) that Lawrence “Larry” Murphy had threatened to beat to death Daniel Laidstone. There were other documents connecting Murphy to the murder of Laidstone, each of them noted with the date and time the information was secured; all of them from some time that day – December 26^th. The final piece of paper in the folder was the arrest warrant for Larry Murphy.

Looking up at Coleman and handing the folder to Mac, Andi asked, “We going to get him?”

“Yes,” replied Coleman. “His brother is meeting us to pick him up. He’s at home at another brother’s house where he lives.”

“Merry Christmas to him, huh?” said Mac, the implication being that arresting a guy wasn’t such a great thing during the holiday season. He was right, but if you did the crime you didn’t get to wait until after any holiday to be arrested.

“Merry Christmas to Laidstone,” said Coleman, his reply implication being that he had no sympathy for Larry Murphy given that he’d probably beaten to death Daniel Laidstone.

“Merry Christmas to the dead children,” said Andi. Both men knew exactly what she meant. No matter what had gone on between Larry Murphy and Daniel Laidstone, Laidstone had been their primary suspect and, if he was indeed the perpetrator of the serial kidnap/murder crimes, no one was going to shed a tear over the street justice he’d received.  In fact, Larry Murphy might get a lighter sentence if he was found guilty of killing Laidstone.

“There’s that,” said Coleman.  They all loaded up and met Patrolman Kevin Murphy. Together the four of them went and picked up Larry Murphy.  He didn’t resist. He knew they were coming. It was only a matter of time. He felt no remorse for having killed Laidstone. In fact, he felt like he’d done the community a favor and that such would come out in court.