Chapter VII
Dating, Divorcing and Dying
Sara had to grin when the text message popped up on her phone as she shut her locker, ready to head home for some much needed sleep.
'2nd date: breakfast, meet me out front'
There was no need for a signature, Sara had only had one "first date" in...well a very long time. The idea of breakfast with Sofia was oddly enticing. The fact that they were referring to these outings as dates made her smile...and, yes, there were even a couple of butterflies. Sofia Curtis was a beautiful woman and even entertaining the idea of dating her was enough to make Sara a little bit...excited.
She exited the crime lab without a look back and smiled a full and toothy grin when she saw the Detective leaning up against her car, aviator sunglasses hiding her blue eyes...and that one extra button on her blue shirt was open...oh yes, Sofia Curtis was a beautiful woman. "So where are we going?" Sofia grinned, "I thought we'd head over to this organic restaurant I like and then I'd like to go see Jim, you in?" Sara smiled and slid into the passenger seat of the car, "Second date, huh. Sounds good to me." Sofia smirked and got into the car too. They left the parking lot with a slight squeal of tires and a round of feminine laughter.
"Warrick Brown, you have a delivery at Reception, that's CSI Brown, you have a delivery at reception." Warrick tore himself away from the evidence he was examining for a simple smash and grab and went up front. When he saw the man in the Italian cut business suit, his stomach dropped. When said man handed him a thick folder, Warrick's entire world went on pause.
Tina had filed for divorce.
Horace Kent ran for all he was worth. He'd gone to college on his running ability...and he was no longer in prime condition, but he hadn't made All American in his sophomore year because he was pretty. No, Horace had worked his way through the University of Nebraska with lots of studying and by running the pigskin into the end zone. Right now, he prayed those same legs that had won so many football games didn't fail him. He'd grown up right here in Vegas, he understood the desert, he knew it's dangers. As he ran into the blinding desert day, though, he knew that the most horrible danger was behind him, perusing him like a rabid dog after it's prey.
His wife was pregnant, he had just been promoted, he was a deacon in his church, he donated money to the Negro College Fund, he volunteered his time as a foster parent. He was a good man, he didn't deserve this. Not this!
He could hear the roaring of an engine coming up behind him and he pushed himself harder, sprinting far faster then he ever had on the field. He wanted to live!
Human legs, however, give out much quicker then a truck and Horace lost the most important race of his life...the one for his life. He struggled, he threw punches and kicks, he even forgot everything his father had taught him about honor and bit, scratched and aimed at the nads. One swift hit to the temple, though, toppled the black man. He was drug back to the shed...to die.
Horace came back to and panicked. His hands were cuffed to a pipe, he couldn't do anything with them...What was worse though, was the mask on his face...the huge tank that the tube lead to wasn't labeled oxygen... Ne...Though it had been years since his last Chemistry class, he recognized that symbol...His last conscious thoughts before he started slipping into deadly unconsciousness was that his foster kid, Joel, had just taken a field trip to the Neon sign museum not two weeks before...
Horace died at noon in the blistering heat that only could be found in a metal shed in the middle of a desert in the summer. It was, when compared to the chase that had preceded it, a rather peaceful death.
Author's Note: I've been told, by the wonderful HoneyLynx86, that along with my abysmal spelling and general slaughtering of the English language, my dialogue flow is hard to understand... It's not the first time I've been told...and I'm working on it, honestly I am. So I guess it's time I swallow my pride...and put out a plea... If there is anyone willing to beta-read for me, please send me an email, smoke signal, telepathic message...anything!
Now, while I'm blabbing, I'd like to go ahead and throw out some thanks and such. To those who have reviewed thus far: HoneyLynx86, icklebitodd, and Missy Holland, you guys rock! Lovely reviews such as these are what drives me to get up in the morning...Okay, so not wanting to lose my job makes me get up in the morning, but hey, reviews make my morning happier.
And thanks go out to everyone who's read so far too...even if you haven't reviewed, the numbers say that someone out there likes the tale well enough to keep coming back for more...so this is a mid-story thanks to everyone, I guess...I'm done now...
