Chain of Darkness
Chapter Seven--
**********
Snow was starting to fall gently in the soft light of dusk. The temperature had dropped significantly since the sun had moved beyond the tall buildings of the big city and gray storm clouds had rolled in, hanging low and ominous. Friday rush hour and old, icy, snow from the previous storm had clogged up the busy streets for hours.
The chilly weather and heavy traffic didn't appear to bother Tony Moretti as he stood to the side of a busy intersection. His gloved hand wrote quickly on his pad as he wrote out his twelfth and last ticket of the day. He stuffed the thin, pink, piece of paper under the windshield wipers of beige, double-parked Lexus, and strode back to his cruiser.
His wife Mary was at home with a hot dinner waiting, so he wasted no time driving back to the station to sign out. The day had been long and cold; a hot shower and home-cooked meal was exactly what he needed.
The locker room was full of officers, some dressing to go home and others changing to begin the night shift.
"Hey, Moretti!" His old partner Hank was standing by his locker pulling on his NYPD jacket. He and Tony had worked together for almost ten years. Hank had changed to the night shift last year because his wife had started working during the day and needed him to be home when his kids got off school.
"Hank! How's it going, man?"
"Good, good. Not looking forward to going out into that snow tonight."
Tony chuckled as he changed back into his clothes. "Yeah, it's a bit nippy out there. But I had a good day with parking tickets. Gets cold and people don't seem to care where they park."
"I hear ya. Well, I have to get to roll call. Have a good night and be careful driving home, okay?"
"Yep," he nodded, "You too. Take care."
He watched as Hank and his new partner left for roll call with the majority of the others in the locker room. Tony grabbed up his hat and scarf and walked into the next room. Finding his time card, he signed out and reported the number of tickets he'd written out. He'd do all the paperwork Friday night like he usually did. He waved goodnight to the front desk receptionist and headed out the double doors.
The night air was icy and the snow bit at his uncovered cheeks and nose. He hurriedly fished in his pocket for the keys to his truck, opened the nearly frozen lock, and climbed in.
He was so intent on getting the truck running and the heat on that he didn't notice the faint 'click' as he sank into the leather seat.
Tony smiled in content when the heat basted out of the vents, wafting warmth over his face and hands. As he pulled out of the back lot, his cell phone buzzed. Reaching for it, he flipped it open, recognizing the number as his home phone.
"Hey you."
"Hi baby, are you on your way home?"
"Yeah, I am. I just left."
"Okay, good, dinner's almost ready. Could you stop by the store for some eggs? We ran out." He spotted a convenience store up ahead and merged into the next lane.
"Sure. I'll be home in about twenty minutes, okay?"
"Okay, honey, I love you." Her voice was soft and sweet with affection.
"Love you too."
There was one parking space left outside the store towards the back. He heaved a sigh and pulled into it, wishing for a closer spot, if only to avoid a few more seconds in the bitter cold. He turned the engine off and buttoned up his heavy winter coat.
Tony grasped the door handle and opened it, grimacing at the rush of cold air as he moved to get up from his seat.
**********
The teenaged cashier at the checkout counter pushed the groceries through the scanner, a bored expression fixed on his face. Milk, crackers, lettuce, peanut butter; he barely noticed the items as he placed them into a brown paper bag.
How he'd gotten stuck with this boring, low-end, job—he had no idea. Scanning, bagging, smiling and saying 'Have a nice day' a million times a day was such a drag.
After handing an older lady her groceries and murmuring his scripted send-off, he shuffled back to the cash register. His freckled face half-smiled a greeting to the next guy in line and reached for the conveyer-belt 'on' button.
A thunderous roar and an incredibly bright flash of white light came from nowhere, and glass shattered all over the place as the front windows were blown to bits. He dove to the floor underneath the counter and tried to shield himself from the flying glass. His own cries of terror were lost amongst the loud shrieks and screams from customers as they dropped to the ground.
The few seconds that passed felt like an eternity. Finally, the roar died down and the glass stopped falling and crashing around them. The young cashier peeked his head out and cautiously stood up.
"Oh God…" he murmured hoarsely.
The store looked like something out of a sci-fi movie. Soot and glass covered the counter and the people that were still down on the floor. He become aware of the smell of burning fuel and his stinging eyes searched through the hazy smoke into the parking lot. He could see a car burning intensely at the back of the lot.
Picking up the phone he cleared his throat and dialed the emergency number, praying silently that everything would be okay.
**********
Ty Davis and his partner Sully sat in their parked RMP after taking care of another bar-brawl. The two very drunk men had spilled beer and vodka all over Ty's coat and shirt and he was trying to dry them off using a handful of paper napkins. The car reeked of alcohol.
Sully chuckled as he watched his young friend try to clean up the mess. The sopped napkins were disintegrating with every rub. Little white bits of paper were sticking to the dark navy of his uniform, making it look even worse then before.
"What are you laughing at?"
"What? Me?" He pretended to be hurt. "I wasn't laughing."
"Yes you were, Sul." Ty shook his head, clearly annoyed, and returned to rubbing his now navy-and-white speckled jacket. "Besides, you wouldn't be laughing if it was you that was covered in this mess."
Sully just smiled. Watching Ty with those drunks had been the funniest things he'd seen in a while.
Ty had walked into the bar and insisted that he would take care of this one. Sully, who was more than happy to oblige, consented and took a front row seat at the bar. The two guys were extremely drunk and had stopped immediately after Ty had pulled them away from each other. Then, the fat one began to sing and the other chimed in. Raising their half-full glasses in the air, they both stared to wave them around, sloshing vodka all over Ty while they continued to croon, dreadfully slurred and off key. When they had finished their 'song' and succeeded to thoroughly drench the young officer, they both grabbed a very bewildered Ty and sandwiched him into a huge, wet, drunken, bear hug.
Sully stifled another snicker and Ty shot his still-smirking partner a threatening glare.
"Central to all units. All available units, we have a report of an explosion on 57th and 12th." The voice on the radio blared.
Ty raised his brow, curious."55-Charlie to Central, we're on the way."
***********
The ringing phone had wakened Matt from a sound sleep. Working overtime, he'd slept little in the past three days since Officer Jacobsen's untimely death, and had just fallen asleep.
The deep voice on the phone had barked out names, dates, and numbers, but his foggy mind couldn't keep up. He had to ask for the information to be repeated before his brain caught up to his ears and he recognized the voice.
It was Chief again. A car bomb, he'd said, another officer from the 55th precinct was dead. No information yet, the fire was still burning, but they were sure. The plates of the blazing car had been run through the computer system and had come up positive for an officer Moretti. Matt was told to get down there ASAP. Struggling to focus, he'd penned the bits of info on a scrap of paper and gotten dressed.
A bite of bagel, two cups of coffee, and twenty-seven minutes later, he pulled up to the crime scene. Hopefully, that coffee would kick in soon and clear his fatigue.
He surveyed the damage. The parking lot looked like a war zone. Three cars and what looked like a truck were still on fire and smoking heavily. Firefighters were hosing them down, trying to get the fuel-induced flames under control. The front of the store was damaged; empty holes where there once were large, glass panes and the store's sign had fallen to hang at an odd angle. Most of the other cars in the lot had escaped with only shattered windows and large dents from falling debris.
Police cruisers and ambulances were blocking off the surrounding streets and a large fire truck had managed to pull into the crowded lot. Firefighter, cops, and paramedics swarmed the area, milling around, trying to help as much as possible. The heavy snow that was falling helped create a striking picture against the bright flames and his eyes fought to take it all in.
"Who did this?" he whispered.
**********
Faith stood on the sidewalk with Bosco and a few other officers. Arriving on the scene over a half-hour ago, they had helped lead the disoriented people out of the store and into the hands of waiting paramedics. Now, they waited to the side watching the fire blaze, mesmerized by the bright flames.
The fact that there was a car bombing in the middle of New York City was bad enough, but reality had hit hard when they realized that the victim of the horrific crime was one of their own.
Another cop had been murdered. Another cop from the 55th precinct.
Faith swallowed hard as her mind raced. Who would do this? And why? Was this the work of a serial killer? She refused to let her thoughts dwell on that possibility. She glanced over at Bosco.
Her partner was lost in his own thoughts, hands stuffed deep into his coat pockets, a hard look on his face. The lights of the dying fire danced in his blue eyes. For the first time in a long while, she saw a glimmer of fear in them.
**********
TBC...Please review :)
Chapter Seven--
**********
Snow was starting to fall gently in the soft light of dusk. The temperature had dropped significantly since the sun had moved beyond the tall buildings of the big city and gray storm clouds had rolled in, hanging low and ominous. Friday rush hour and old, icy, snow from the previous storm had clogged up the busy streets for hours.
The chilly weather and heavy traffic didn't appear to bother Tony Moretti as he stood to the side of a busy intersection. His gloved hand wrote quickly on his pad as he wrote out his twelfth and last ticket of the day. He stuffed the thin, pink, piece of paper under the windshield wipers of beige, double-parked Lexus, and strode back to his cruiser.
His wife Mary was at home with a hot dinner waiting, so he wasted no time driving back to the station to sign out. The day had been long and cold; a hot shower and home-cooked meal was exactly what he needed.
The locker room was full of officers, some dressing to go home and others changing to begin the night shift.
"Hey, Moretti!" His old partner Hank was standing by his locker pulling on his NYPD jacket. He and Tony had worked together for almost ten years. Hank had changed to the night shift last year because his wife had started working during the day and needed him to be home when his kids got off school.
"Hank! How's it going, man?"
"Good, good. Not looking forward to going out into that snow tonight."
Tony chuckled as he changed back into his clothes. "Yeah, it's a bit nippy out there. But I had a good day with parking tickets. Gets cold and people don't seem to care where they park."
"I hear ya. Well, I have to get to roll call. Have a good night and be careful driving home, okay?"
"Yep," he nodded, "You too. Take care."
He watched as Hank and his new partner left for roll call with the majority of the others in the locker room. Tony grabbed up his hat and scarf and walked into the next room. Finding his time card, he signed out and reported the number of tickets he'd written out. He'd do all the paperwork Friday night like he usually did. He waved goodnight to the front desk receptionist and headed out the double doors.
The night air was icy and the snow bit at his uncovered cheeks and nose. He hurriedly fished in his pocket for the keys to his truck, opened the nearly frozen lock, and climbed in.
He was so intent on getting the truck running and the heat on that he didn't notice the faint 'click' as he sank into the leather seat.
Tony smiled in content when the heat basted out of the vents, wafting warmth over his face and hands. As he pulled out of the back lot, his cell phone buzzed. Reaching for it, he flipped it open, recognizing the number as his home phone.
"Hey you."
"Hi baby, are you on your way home?"
"Yeah, I am. I just left."
"Okay, good, dinner's almost ready. Could you stop by the store for some eggs? We ran out." He spotted a convenience store up ahead and merged into the next lane.
"Sure. I'll be home in about twenty minutes, okay?"
"Okay, honey, I love you." Her voice was soft and sweet with affection.
"Love you too."
There was one parking space left outside the store towards the back. He heaved a sigh and pulled into it, wishing for a closer spot, if only to avoid a few more seconds in the bitter cold. He turned the engine off and buttoned up his heavy winter coat.
Tony grasped the door handle and opened it, grimacing at the rush of cold air as he moved to get up from his seat.
**********
The teenaged cashier at the checkout counter pushed the groceries through the scanner, a bored expression fixed on his face. Milk, crackers, lettuce, peanut butter; he barely noticed the items as he placed them into a brown paper bag.
How he'd gotten stuck with this boring, low-end, job—he had no idea. Scanning, bagging, smiling and saying 'Have a nice day' a million times a day was such a drag.
After handing an older lady her groceries and murmuring his scripted send-off, he shuffled back to the cash register. His freckled face half-smiled a greeting to the next guy in line and reached for the conveyer-belt 'on' button.
A thunderous roar and an incredibly bright flash of white light came from nowhere, and glass shattered all over the place as the front windows were blown to bits. He dove to the floor underneath the counter and tried to shield himself from the flying glass. His own cries of terror were lost amongst the loud shrieks and screams from customers as they dropped to the ground.
The few seconds that passed felt like an eternity. Finally, the roar died down and the glass stopped falling and crashing around them. The young cashier peeked his head out and cautiously stood up.
"Oh God…" he murmured hoarsely.
The store looked like something out of a sci-fi movie. Soot and glass covered the counter and the people that were still down on the floor. He become aware of the smell of burning fuel and his stinging eyes searched through the hazy smoke into the parking lot. He could see a car burning intensely at the back of the lot.
Picking up the phone he cleared his throat and dialed the emergency number, praying silently that everything would be okay.
**********
Ty Davis and his partner Sully sat in their parked RMP after taking care of another bar-brawl. The two very drunk men had spilled beer and vodka all over Ty's coat and shirt and he was trying to dry them off using a handful of paper napkins. The car reeked of alcohol.
Sully chuckled as he watched his young friend try to clean up the mess. The sopped napkins were disintegrating with every rub. Little white bits of paper were sticking to the dark navy of his uniform, making it look even worse then before.
"What are you laughing at?"
"What? Me?" He pretended to be hurt. "I wasn't laughing."
"Yes you were, Sul." Ty shook his head, clearly annoyed, and returned to rubbing his now navy-and-white speckled jacket. "Besides, you wouldn't be laughing if it was you that was covered in this mess."
Sully just smiled. Watching Ty with those drunks had been the funniest things he'd seen in a while.
Ty had walked into the bar and insisted that he would take care of this one. Sully, who was more than happy to oblige, consented and took a front row seat at the bar. The two guys were extremely drunk and had stopped immediately after Ty had pulled them away from each other. Then, the fat one began to sing and the other chimed in. Raising their half-full glasses in the air, they both stared to wave them around, sloshing vodka all over Ty while they continued to croon, dreadfully slurred and off key. When they had finished their 'song' and succeeded to thoroughly drench the young officer, they both grabbed a very bewildered Ty and sandwiched him into a huge, wet, drunken, bear hug.
Sully stifled another snicker and Ty shot his still-smirking partner a threatening glare.
"Central to all units. All available units, we have a report of an explosion on 57th and 12th." The voice on the radio blared.
Ty raised his brow, curious."55-Charlie to Central, we're on the way."
***********
The ringing phone had wakened Matt from a sound sleep. Working overtime, he'd slept little in the past three days since Officer Jacobsen's untimely death, and had just fallen asleep.
The deep voice on the phone had barked out names, dates, and numbers, but his foggy mind couldn't keep up. He had to ask for the information to be repeated before his brain caught up to his ears and he recognized the voice.
It was Chief again. A car bomb, he'd said, another officer from the 55th precinct was dead. No information yet, the fire was still burning, but they were sure. The plates of the blazing car had been run through the computer system and had come up positive for an officer Moretti. Matt was told to get down there ASAP. Struggling to focus, he'd penned the bits of info on a scrap of paper and gotten dressed.
A bite of bagel, two cups of coffee, and twenty-seven minutes later, he pulled up to the crime scene. Hopefully, that coffee would kick in soon and clear his fatigue.
He surveyed the damage. The parking lot looked like a war zone. Three cars and what looked like a truck were still on fire and smoking heavily. Firefighters were hosing them down, trying to get the fuel-induced flames under control. The front of the store was damaged; empty holes where there once were large, glass panes and the store's sign had fallen to hang at an odd angle. Most of the other cars in the lot had escaped with only shattered windows and large dents from falling debris.
Police cruisers and ambulances were blocking off the surrounding streets and a large fire truck had managed to pull into the crowded lot. Firefighter, cops, and paramedics swarmed the area, milling around, trying to help as much as possible. The heavy snow that was falling helped create a striking picture against the bright flames and his eyes fought to take it all in.
"Who did this?" he whispered.
**********
Faith stood on the sidewalk with Bosco and a few other officers. Arriving on the scene over a half-hour ago, they had helped lead the disoriented people out of the store and into the hands of waiting paramedics. Now, they waited to the side watching the fire blaze, mesmerized by the bright flames.
The fact that there was a car bombing in the middle of New York City was bad enough, but reality had hit hard when they realized that the victim of the horrific crime was one of their own.
Another cop had been murdered. Another cop from the 55th precinct.
Faith swallowed hard as her mind raced. Who would do this? And why? Was this the work of a serial killer? She refused to let her thoughts dwell on that possibility. She glanced over at Bosco.
Her partner was lost in his own thoughts, hands stuffed deep into his coat pockets, a hard look on his face. The lights of the dying fire danced in his blue eyes. For the first time in a long while, she saw a glimmer of fear in them.
**********
TBC...Please review :)