Author's Note: Hey everyone, thought I'd cheer myself up and update quickly…I just had my brace fitted, I can't eat or speak! Anyway I know the first chapter and this one is completely boring but there has to be a few of them with a few action chapters...right? ((gets pelted by rotten eggs and mouldy tomatoes)) I guess not.
Disclaimer: I wish I owned those boys….but I don't, so there u have it.
Eva put her baby in gear 1, and pulled up to the curb. 26 Fitchburg Avenue, Richfield, Utah...home to Bob and Sandra and their numerous kids…what was it, 3 now? Eva gazed at the normalcy of their home. The perfect green lawn, the rose bushes under the windows, okay maybe they weren't rose bushes, she didn't know….or care much either. It all seemed too stiff to her, too…robotic. She liked a little adventure in her life…a thrill! She clambered out her car, retrieved her bag of weapons, and approached the door mat. Just as they had agreed, the keys were under it. She let herself in, almost feeling as if she should call out to see if anyone's home, but decided against it, after all…no one would reply.
She stole a quick peek in some of the unpacked boxes, that littered the living area, and nosed at the unpacked family photos on the mantel. Bob held his eldest son on his shoulders, Sandra was asleep on the couch with their little girl, and finally she came to the family picture. Bob held up little Tommy, planting a huge kiss on the baby's face, whilst Sandra laughed and hugged her other children for the picture. God they look so happy. For an instant Eva remembered how happy her family once were…almost like this one. She shook her head to clear it and entered the kitchen to find the basement, figuring it would be best to start from the bottom and work her way up. She yanked on the switch at the top of the stairs; a dim light filled the room.
With each step she took a different sounding creek played around the walls, god these stairs are so old. She reached the bottom and glared at the few items that littered the concrete floor. A worn out washing machine, some old furniture, a few cardboard boxes and a rusty old trunk were all that inhabited the room. She riffled through the boxes finding old sports jackets and some sneakers. Finally she came to the trunk, she toyed with the padlock a little, eventually kicking it with her boots only to make matters worse by stubbing her toe.
"Fuck!" she cried nursing her injured foot. Rummaging through her bag, she eventually found what she was looking for. She raised her axe high above her head and sent it crashing into the padlock. It broke free and fell to the floor with a clang. She heaved the lid up and gazed at all the memorabilia.
"Well I'll be damned!" inside lay old baseball caps, shoes, jackets and even a cushioned base. But these didn't interest Eva, she gazed at the pictures.
"Bobby Wilton!" she laughed and picked up all the belonging's. She knew her dad would kill to be in her shoes right now, Bobby Wilton was his childhood baseball hero. "The greatest baseball player of the 60's." Or so he said. Eva had to admit that he was quite a looker in his day. She remembered her dad telling her how he'd died when she was a kid, but couldn't quite remember the details now.
"So why are you staying here?" she thought out loud. Deciding she was hungry, she packed up all her things and left to do more research.
Half an hour later, she tucked into her Quarter pounder with bacon and cheese and groaned slightly. She hadn't realised how hungry she was. She brought out her laptop and tapped her fingers on the diner table as she waited for it to wake up. Bringing up Wikipedia, she typed in Bobby Wilton in the search criteria and again waited for the results to show.
"Bobby Steve Wilton, (born 29th May 1939, in Dallas, Texas) was a famous American baseball player between the years of 1959 and 1965. Wilton's short baseball career was brought to an abrupt end when he was brutally murdered. Police investigations found that he had been mugged and beaten to death with a baseball bat…
Eva smirked a little at the irony of it all, then mentally slapped herself for laughing at a dead guy.
…Family members buried Wilton's body in the local grave yard, releasing a public declaration. "The people that did this…there gonna pay for what they done, one way or another." Wilton's murderers were never bought to justice.
Eva, having found what she was looking for, brought up Google, and found a map of Richfield. Once she'd located the graveyard on the map, she finished off her burger, gathered up her belongings and left the diner. She clambered into her car and flicked on the headlights, watching the light filter through the darkness. According to the map, the graveyard was about ¾ of a mile away, so she turned the radio on for some comfort.
She swung up to the curb and looked at all the gravestones of The Richfield Community Cemetery. Being a cemetery there wasn't exactly security, so Eva grabbed her spade and bag, and hopped over the stone wall, not bothering to use the gate. Now….finding Bobby Wilton's grave, that was the tough one.
45 minutes later…
Having traipsed around almost all of the cemetery, Eva came to the last row of gravestones.
"Graham Hanks… no"
"Robert Wilton… no" Hang on a sec, Bobby is slang for Robert, oh you idiot.
Eva began a long tirade of mumbling, "Ya just hate me don't ya? Couldn't have been in the first row….oh no! Cause that woulda been too friggin easy! You had to be in the last one!" She began the long job of digging the grave.