One Month Ago …
Joshua hummed along with the music piped into the electronics store as he set up a display of 3.5 inch floppy discs. He'd had a great week at work and in his criminal justice classes at the junior college.
"Hey, Josh, come on buddy, go home, study. The way my juvenile delinquent son is going, I'm gonna need someone on my side someday." Mr. Taylor wiped his pale, balding head with one beefy hand as he walked onto the sales floor from the stock room.
"Okay, let me finish this display." The part-time college student leaned out from behind the plastic display.
"Nah, go on home. It'll be there tomorrow." Mr. Taylor waved the younger man off.
"I don't mind." Joshua offered.
"Go on, get outta here, you're trespassing already." They both chuckled.
"See you tomorrow." Joshua said as he headed eagerly toward the stock room to retrieve his leather jacket. He slid his lanky frame into the soft, battered leather easily and pulled his keys out of his jeans' pocket. Mr. Taylor waved from the front door as Joshua drove his battered Chevy Chevette down the dimly lit street.
Three blocks later, Joshua pulled up to a red light and took advantage of the long pause to tune in his favorite oldies station. He smiled when "Woolly Bully" came on. His friends teased him about his oldies music and his oldies car. Still, it was paid for and got him back and forth to work and school.
As the traffic light seem to doze on red, Josh looked around at the businesses surrounding downtown. It wasn't a very big town, or very exciting. A few buildings rose three stories above Main Street but most were one story store fronts. He hoped to come back to his hometown with a college degree and do some good for his community.
Joshua watched as a new, red Cadillac cruised by on the yellow light and plowed into an elderly woman waiting at the corner bus stop, a buzzing, yellow street light glinting off her plastic rain bonnet. The old lady's groceries flew through the air as she fell backward into the grass between the sidewalk and the parking lot beyond.
"Oh, my God," Joshua breathed as he watched in horror as the Cadillac backed up and changed course, rolling smoothly along the opposite side of the street toward him. Time slowed as he stared at the driver, a man in his early fifties with dark beady eyes and a pasty complexion. They locked gazes for a brief moment before the Cadillac disappeared into the night. #1 Mayr graced the front plate of the expensive car's dinged bumper.
After taking a second to process, Joshua pulled his car over to the bus stop and checked on the elderly woman lying on her left side beneath the bus stop shelter. Leaving the motor running, Josh leapt out. The woman lay eerily still, her glasses askew on her face and blood on her forehead. Joshua checked for a pulse at her right wrist but felt nothing. He then checked at her throat with the same result.
"He killed her." Bile rose in the young man's throat as realization sank in.
"He saw me, he saw my car." A million things ran through the young man's mind. Barely containing his stomach, he raced to a pay phone and dialed 9-1-1. He gave a hasty account of what happened and where the woman lay. When the sound of sirens hit his ears, Josh hung up on the dispatcher and jumped into his car. He took every back street he knew to get home.

Chicago …
One Month Later …
Ray drank his fifth or sixth cup of coffee as he walked through the bull pen to his desk. Elaine greeted him but the detective could only grunt.
"Well, well, I didn't know there were zombies in Chicago." Detective Jack Huey snickered as he leaned on his desk, watching Ray walk in.
"Hardy har har, A zombie would go hungry trying to eat your brains." Ray shot back, sneering in return.
"Ray, someone on line two for you, says his name is Rocco." Elaine's voice cut through before Huey or Gardino could muster a comeback.
"Thanks, Elaine." Ray picked up the phone and punched the button for line two.
"Detective Vecchio here," He listened as one of his shadier informants gave him the rundown on the hit-and-run driver. He didn't say where, or how, he'd gotten the information but Rocco had always come through.
"Thanks, Rocco, I owe you one." Ray hung up quickly and got ready to go out again.

No-Tell Motel …
"Listen, Mom, I can't come home right now, I told you, Mayor Beady saw me when he hit that old lady." Joshua tried to explain – again – as he paced outside his second story hotel room in a socially sagging section of Chicago. If it weren't for Western Union the young man would have starved in the month since he'd arrived. Thankfully, his Mom had a soft spot for her only son.
A staggering man and a giggling blonde in leopard print wobbled their way up the stairs to the second story rooms. She patted the past his prime footballer on the chest as she tried not to wince at his beer stank breath.
"Mom, you know I can't come home, Chief Dixon and Mayor Beady go hand-in-glove, always have, since high school. You said so yourself." Joshua warily eyed the parking lot below as he listened to his mother plead once more for him to come home or go to the police.
"I know, Mom, I love you too." Joshua hung up, truly considering reaching out to the Chicago cops, turning himself in for the hit-and-run. He hung up feeling guilty.

The Grocery ….
Ben tried to keep from growling in anger as he let the bag boy wheel his cart out to the parking lot. It had taken two-thirds longer to buy the few things on Meg's list than it should have. Normally, Ben would have found the things, purchased them and held the door open for at least three, little old ladies by the time he wheeled himself through the check-out line.
"Thank you kindly, son." Fraser found himself saying to the bag boy as he closed the trunk on the taxi.
"No prob." the teen shrugged, pocketing the two dollars Fraser handed him for a tip.

Meg came in, dropped her briefcase by the front door and slid out of her sensible shoes. How two inch block heels were sensible was beyond her. The aroma of baking bread and cooking meat greeted the Inspector. Following her nose, Meg stepped into the kitchen.
"Oh, hello, Meg." Ben smiled up at her from the kitchen table where he sat with his leg elevated on a throw pillow.
"Hello. This smells wonderful. I hope you haven't been on your feet." She turned to him after checking the oven.
"Not more than five minutes." Ben answered honestly.
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK
"Open up, it's the cops!" Ray's voice carried through the front door.
Grumbling, Meg opened the door to the detective.
"Come in, Detective Vecchio, we were just about to sit down to dinner." Meg put her hands on her hips, a universal sign of irritation.
"You can eat later, right now I have news about the hit-and-run driver." Ray pulled out his notepad.
"I'll set another place." Meg said with an irritable grunt.
Ray filled Meg and Ben in on Rocco's tip as they ate beef pot roast, roasted vegetables and a loaf of home made bread with iced tea.
"We should go to the hotel and question the young man." Fraser suggested as he stood up to gather the dirty dishes.
"Yeah, and how you gonna catch him, Benny, your wheelchair or crutches?" Ray asked sarcastically.
"Nettlesome as it is, Detective Vecchio has a point, Fraser." Meg shot said detective a baleful glare.
"I got this, Fraser, no problem." Ray shrugged, confident he could collar one guy by himself. It had been a while since he'd done leg work solo.
"I'll assist, this is a joint investigation between the Chicago Police Department and the Canadian Government." Meg piped up.
"How do you figure that, Inspector?" Ray leaned forward in his seat, staring her down.
"My Constable was a victim, Detective, that's how I figure it." Meg also leaned forward, staring him down coldly.
Ben looked down at Diefenbaker who seemed to roll his eyes and continue with his own bowl of kibble. All the Mountie could do was shake his head. No matter how hard he tried Inspector Thatcher and Ray just would not get along.
"Alright, but I'm drivin'. I've ridden with Fraser, no way in hell I'm ridin' with another Canadian." Ray thumped the kitchen table with his open palm.
"I'm sure your vehicle is less conspicuous in the seedier side of town anyway." Meg shot back. That sent Ray into a tizzy, defending his precious Buick Riviera. Ben let them bicker for a change.
****