Disclaimer: "Sons of Thunder" and its' characters are owned by Chuck Norris, Aaron Norris, CBS and whoever else was involved with the creation of this show. Any new characters and story lines that come into play are of my own creation. No copyright infringement is intended. This is a fan fiction intended for entertainment purposes only and no money is being made off of it.
guardianM3 Note: Words in italic are thoughts.
Chapter 5: The Watch
Kendra woke up ten minutes before her alarm clock was set to go off at 8 o'clock. She turned it off so she wouldn't have to hear that annoying buzzing sound blaring into her sleep-deprived brain and got out of bed.
She had only gotten a few hours of sleep because she had been thinking about Cutler's murder. All she had was questions with no answers. Who had done it? Some vigilante? Someone who had been assaulted by him before? One of his buddies?
She took a shower, trying to get her mind to take a break from the questions. She got dressed in her bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. The bump on her head was still visible and she scowled at the yellow-purplish bruise. Her foot didn't hurt anymore and she was thankful for that.
Her bare feet slapped on the wooden floor of the little hallway that led to the living room and entered the small kitchen. She measured out the crushed coffee beans and filled the pot of water. As the coffee maker chugged and the aroma of hazelnut filled the air, she made herself a bowl of oatmeal and cut some fresh strawberries to go on top.
She got the newspaper and then sat down at her kitchen table with her food and read the news as she ate. She saw the title "The Slasher Strikes Again" and frowned as she read the article.
The Malloy family had just sat down to eat their breakfast together when a knock came to the door. Trent rose, motioning to his mother to sit back down, and answered the door.
"Morning, Trent." Carlos greeted, with a grin on his face
"You came here for some of my mom's cooking, didn't you?" Trent asked with his arms crossed over his chest, attempting to look fierce but a grin quivered on his lips.
"What!?" Carlos feigned shock and innocence. "I just came to visit the members of the Malloy household."
"Right. Come on in and get something to eat." He motioned to Carlos to enter the charming and warm house. Before they entered the dining room, a loud knock pounded on the door. Trent answered it and saw Detective Ryan with a uniformed officer next to him.
"Malloy, you need to come with us down to the station." Detective Ryan said sternly. "Stay out of this Sandoval." He said before Carlos could ask why or protest.
"Trent, who is it?" asked Trent's mother, Katie.
"It's alright, Mom." He said reassuringly. "I have to go to the police station." He followed Detective Ryan and the Officer onto the porch and down the steps while Katie watched with a worried frown.
"Carlos, will you go with Trent and make sure he's going to be okay?" asked Katie
"Of course, Mrs. Malloy." Carlos said good-bye and went out the door.
Trent sat in the same chair, in the same interrogation room from before and even Detective Ryan was standing in the same spot. "So, Malloy, why do you think you are here?" Trent remained silent, knowing that Detective Ryan was going to tell him anyway. "Did you go to visit with a Tony Flemming, yesterday?" Detective Ryan asked.
"Yes. Carlos and I spoke with him yesterday afternoon." Trent replied completely calm.
"Really. That's all you did at Flemming's? Talk?" He scoffed. "He was found murdered this morning by his sister when he didn't answer her calls. He was killed late last night."
"Carlos and I spoke with him at about 4:25 or 4:30 and left about 10 minutes later. I didn't go back there." Trent said firmly.
"Then why did we find this?" Detective Ryan asked, as he set something small and silver on the table that was in an evidence bag.
The object in the evidence bag was Trent's watch that he had gotten from his parents when he had graduated from high school. The inscription on the back was facing up and the message read, "Congrats Trenton. Love Mom and Dad." And below the message was the date he had graduated.
Before Trent could protest or reply, someone knocked on the door and entered the stifling interrogation room. A man in a gray suit with a blue tie walked into the interrogation room with a large black briefcase that he set down onto the table. "I'm Lyle Prescott, Mr. Malloy's attorney. Now, Officer, tell me what you are charging my client with?"
Detective Ryan scowled. "It's Detective Ryan." He coughed. "Your client isn't being charged. At the moment."
"His watch," Detective Ryan indicated to the table with his index finger, "was found at the crime scene. Also, he's admitted that he went to see Tony Flemming yesterday at about 4:30 and left about 10 minutes later." He explained to the gray-haired, fifty-something man with intelligent green eyes.
"Is there any other evidence besides the watch that links Mr. Malloy to the crime? Have you found the murder weapon?" asked Lyle and when Detective Ryan, said no to both questions, he picked up his briefcase. "Then you don't have a case against my client. Let's go Mr. Malloy so we won't take up anymore of the Officer's time. Have a nice day." Detective Ryan's scowl deepened as Trent followed the lawyer out the door.
"Hey, what happened?" Carlos asked when he met up with Trent and Lyle.
Trent introduced the lawyer and his friend as they shook hands and then he shook Prescott's hand. "Thank you."
Lyle smiled at Carlos' questioning look. "Butch sent me to help Mr. Malloy here."
"You owed Butch a favor?" Carlos asked the lawyer.
"No. Now, he owes me one." Replied Lyle then he said goodbye to the two younger men and left.
As Carlos drove, close to be considered erratically, Trent called home on his cell phone and let his family know that he was all right. Carlos parked his vehicle and they entered Uppercuts.
"Do you have a source in the department?" Carlos asked Butch, as he and Trent sat down at the bar.
Butch didn't reply and poured coffee into two navy blue mugs, and set them down in front of Carlos and Trent.
"Lyle Prescott said you now owe him a favor." Trent said, adding a few drops of cream to his coffee.
Butch nodded. "I mentioned to Kim that you had been taken to the station…"
Before Butch could finish, Kim burst into the bar and sat next to Trent, spitting out questions.
"I'm fine, Kim. No, I haven't been charged with anything." Trent attempted to answer all of her questions.
"Okay, Kim. Calm down, before you spontaneously combust or something." Carlos remarked.
Kim glared at Carlos and then looked back at Trent. Trent told her about his watch being found at the crime scene. "So, somehow the killer got a hold of your watch?"
"Yeah. I had it before my karate class, but I always take it off while I teach. I don't remember putting it back on after that. Carlos kept on bugging me about going to talk with Flemming and the others." Trent said.
"Hey," Carlos said as he held his hands up in defense, "I thought that we both wanted to find Cutler's killer. Now, we have to find out if the person who killed Cutler is the same one who killed Flemming and my bet is it is the same killer."
"Well, doesn't a killer usually want the last kill to be the one that is the most important?" Kim asked. "So, doesn't that mean that the killer had some type of altercation with one or both of the remaining guys? Or maybe the killer is murdering the guy's buddies to make him nervous?"
"Or the killer only wanted to kill Cutler and Flemming, so Brian Locke and Stuart Allen are safe." Even as Trent said it, he knew in his gut that all four men were targets and there were only two men left.
The killer had blended in with the crowd at Uppercuts and listened to every word that the four friends had said. The killer's eyes narrowed in thought as a dark and devious idea came to mind.
guardianM3: Yeah, I know, I love cliffhangers. Please review and let me know how I'm doing with dialogue, descriptions, characters, etc. I've decided to add Mystery to the genre list because it has become more of a mystery than I had originally planned/thought or perhaps even realized.