It’s been another crazy year so far but so far this hasn’t been as personally hard as last year. See the blog post I wrote about this. There are benefits to living in a rural community. Despite all the insanity and my kids being out of school I’ve actually been making words. I probably let the boys have too much video game time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I am in the middle of writing the sequel to Interview with a Dead Girl. At this time its called Something Wicked. April is having to solve another murder with another sidekick. It\u2019s somewhere between 1\/2 and 2\/3 done and I\u2019m super excited where it’s going. I\u2019m hoping to have the rough draft done by the end of August. I\u2019ll be wanting beta readers about October so if your interested, sign up to my mailing list on the left.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Here’s chapter 1 completely unedited although Grammarly isn’t complaining too much. I’m certain there might be some minor details that will change in the near future. I won’t know all of them until I reach the end of the story.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Tracy<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAlarm at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. 81 Kilo please respond.\u201d Janet the night dispatch said over the radio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201c81 Kilo responding,\u201d I replied, swallowing a bite of my turkey and cheese submarine sandwich. I raced up the stairs, into the brownstone and pounded on the door to Patrick\u2019s apartment. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHey Patrick. We\u2019ve got to go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My new partner Patrick Ryan had excused himself to eat dinner with his pregnant wife Heather. They were expecting their fourth child. He invited me to join them but I declined. We\u2019ve only been partners for a few weeks. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
My other senses had been tingling all day and had gotten consistently stronger. Every time someone appeared in the Met I felt it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Patrick gave his wife a quick kiss before closing the door behind him, a chicken leg in his hand and a napkin shoved into his pants pocket.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019re driving,\u201d he said. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFine. Don\u2019t sit on my sub.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt’s a hero. Where are we going?\u201d I rolled my eyes. In the three years, I lived in Nebraska when I was a child I learned the name sub sandwiches. Even though I\u2019ve lived most of my life in Manhattan where everyone calls them heroes. I can\u2019t break the habit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe Metropolitan Museum of Art.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhy? Central Park Precinct is closer.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI know. All of them are closer.\u201d Patrick and are assigned to the first precinct in the financial district at the south end of Manhattan.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBusy night?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMy guess, if you ask me, Jon sent us the call.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cJon?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSargent Jon Bell, my ex-partner. He got promoted and transferred me to first.\u201d As far away from his precinct as possible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Because I fell in love with him. When he was injured a few months back I told him the truth while he recovered in the hospital. I explained to him, while he was sleeping, that I couldn\u2019t be his partner anymore and I couldn\u2019t stand watching when the bad guys pointed guns at him. Before I got to the point where I explained that I loved him he woke up and threw me out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019ve had this call a few times. If it\u2019s like the last few, some random person appears out of thin air in front of Claude Monet\u2019s self-portrait. Usually, they look confused and ask for help.\u201d I keep too many secrets. Jon knew what I was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Patrick doesn’t know I’m a witch. He also doesn’t know why there were so many break-ins at the Met recently. Some unicorn kid created a portal and her dad kept getting the address wrong when he sent her friends back. I wondered where the portal started and ended. Who or what came through tonight? Most everyone has been a witch but there\u2019s been a kelpie, a dragon, and a gnome. Usually, I get things figured out before the detectives get involved. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
There are a few detectives that know about the portal. Hank Morrell and C.J. Corcoran were pretty helpful with the last few but Hayden Graham was difficult, as usual. In his eyes there is no such thing as magic and no magical creatures. The druids are happy with him not knowing. They preferred to keep humanity in the dark. Clint Garey, his partner, is a believer, said his mom had magic but he could only sense it and has no talent for it at all. That seemed odd if you ask me. If you can feel it then why couldn\u2019t you do something with it?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I stepped on the gas pedal a little harder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cJesus Tracy, slow down,\u201d Patrick said, blessing himself with the sign of the cross. I had no idea he was catholic until now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I slid the car around the corner, thankful for my cousin that spent time on the racing circuit and taking me around the track and letting me drive like a maniac when my parents weren\u2019t watching.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019ve got a bad feeling.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI know you think you have a psychic ability but- Wait a minute, you\u2019re not in condition yellow are you? \u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOrange and heading rapidly to red.\u201d I slammed on the brakes and slid the sedan to a stop in front of the museum.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI can\u2019t explain it. There\u2019s something wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201c81 Kilo at address [fix] \u201c Patrick barked into the radio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The museum was a large stone building with fluted columns and large arched windows. It was built between 1872 and 1874 on Fifth Avenue. I could almost feel it’s age. I looked up past the columns to the roof. A shadow moved and I raised my flashlight. The shadow was gone. Maybe it was the shadow\u2019s age that I felt because it felt centuries older than the building.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDid you see something?\u201d He asked, pointing the beam of the spotlight up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cA shadow.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHmm.\u201d He rolled his eyes and shut off the light.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We climbed the stone steps. The security guard let us in. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat happened Jeff?\u201d It wasn\u2019t Jeff\u2019s first time having to play along with the humans and the security system that automatically calls the police. Jeff wasn\u2019t magical either but he\u2019s had to adjust since the unicorn created the portal. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe building was completely empty. I\u2019ve done rounds three times since we locked the doors thirty minutes ago. Then this woman came out of the broom closet then vanished a minute later.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShow me the video,\u201d I said following Jeff to the security booth. He backed up the high-quality digital video. A tall thin woman with long straight red hair stepped through the door. The lights started flashing and she disappeared. She looked like a younger version of my mother.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThey usually just look confused and ask for help,\u201d Jeff said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShe looks familiar,\u201d Patrick said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A pounding on the door echoed down the halls. \u201cI got this,\u201d Patrick said. \u201cIt\u2019s probably the detective.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Please be C.J., Hank or Clint I thought to myself. I might be able to tolerate Jon being the detective. Hayden Graham was another story. Patrick refuses to believe that magic exists but laughs it off as superstition. Hayden is adamant that there is no possible way magic could be real.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A moment later Hayden Graham ducked under the doorway. Rumor has it that he had basketball recruiters in junior high but he didn\u2019t have any talent with the ball. I think he didn\u2019t have any desire to play basketball. He doesn\u2019t seem like a team player if you ask me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFill me in,\u201d he said to Patrick and Jeff, deliberately avoiding eye contact with me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe only just got here ourselves,\u201d I said. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSo far we\u2019ve reviewed the video,\u201d Patrick said. \u201cCan you get us a decent picture of the woman or a copy of the video?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019ll check for signs of forced entry,\u201d I said ducking out of the room. Thanks to having been on prior calls with the same situation I knew exactly where all the doors were, that there would be no signs of forced entry, and no useful fingerprints on the door. I would be amiss if I didn\u2019t do my due diligence in trying to figure out who came through the door and where she went. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019ll come with you,\u201d Patrick said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We started at the self-portrait of Claude Monet where the camera got several seconds of video. Patrick looked at the door and tried to open it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt’s locked from the inside. The only way through that door from this side is if you have a key or a lock pick,\u201d he said after trying the knob. Her clothes were on the floor. I picked them up and looked through the wallet from her pants pocket. Her name was April Matthews and she lived in Astoria. She had a hundred or so in cash, one credit card, a debit card, and a library card from a small town up north called Belmont. She had no insurance cards. I placed the clothes in a small trash can liner from the maintenance closet. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Where did you get the garbage bag?” he asked. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
“In there.” I pointed to the storage room. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHow did you do that?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMagic.\u201d I grinned, wiggling my fingers followed by the a-day stance that stage magicians assistance do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He rolled his eyes. I produced the key Jeff kept under the chunk of granite from Mount Rushmore beside the door. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDon\u2019t tell anyone. I don\u2019t want him to lose his job. He\u2019s got enough flack having this happen every few weeks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat is it with this place? Why do people keep coming through this door and how do they get in there to begin with?\u201d Patrick rubbed his chin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou won\u2019t believe me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTry me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cA magic portal created by a unicorn.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m serious Tracy. There are no such things as unicorns.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSo am I. And unicorns are real.\u201d When I was a kid, my uncle Nate took me on a coach ride at Central Park for my birthday every year. The two white horses were actually unicorns. What were their names? They said they had a daughter and asked if I wanted to babysit sometime. I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms and told her there was no way I could tolerate watching snot nosed brats even if someone paid me to do it. She seemed to laugh at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIf you say so,\u201d he sighed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI do.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cLoading dock next?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSure.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ten minutes later we were back at the security office. \u201cFind anything?\u201d Hayden asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes sir,\u201d I said, holding up the clothes we\u2019d found by the door. I dropped them on the other chair and removed my gloves.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou?\u201d Hayden asked Patrick as if my years of experience and training didn\u2019t matter. I ground my teeth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOnly the clothes sir,\u201d Patrick said..<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFine. Return to the precinct and write up the report.\u201d Hayden said shoving a jump drive into his pocket. \u201cHave forensics check out the clothes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Patrick shrugged his shoulders and walked out the door. I reached for the clothes and found they were gone. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat the-\u201d I said. Hayden scowled at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I followed Patrick. \u201cDid you grab the bag?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo, but you want to know what\u2019s crazy? A big black dog came running through here with that bag of clothes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAre you certain it was a dog and not a wolf?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He nodded once. \u201cWhy a wolf?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWerewolves are real.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cProve it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI actually haven\u2019t met one.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWell, we can\u2019t tell Hayden that a black dog came in, stole a bag of clothes and ran back out again while we were standing in the same room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat direction did the dog go?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSouth.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m going to follow it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I glared at him from three steps down. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFine. Try and keep up,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I hope you enjoyed the new adventure so far and remember to sign up to my email list!<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Stay well my friends!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It’s been another crazy year so far but so far this hasn’t been as personally hard as last year. See the blog post I wrote…<\/p>\n