Chapter Eleven

The rain was again falling only, this time, it was at a slow, steady pace. Pete and Jim had just walked away from a family dispute and were again on the road. "How is Mac?" Jim, who had intended to stop by Mac's before going to work only to find himself changing a flat tire instead, asked.

"Dizzy spells have slowed way down." Pete replied as he stopped at a red light. "His eyesight is still fuzzy, but at least he can tell there's something in front of him, or beside him now. I'm sure he'll be able to see without a problem soon."

Jim, who had just returned to work after being under the weather for a couple of days, looked out the passenger window and then turned his focus back on Pete. "There was talk in the locker room when I walked in. The officers said that it's officially going on the record that Mac's vehicle accident is the sole cause of his injuries. Is that the case?"

Pete, who could hear the frustration in Jim's voice, gripped the steering wheel, but not so hard as to make it noticeable. "Captain has no choice. Except for when they were at TJ's food wagon, there is absolutely no evidence that Mac or this 'Red' were in the same area at the same time. No one has come forth to say they saw him fall either."

"But, you're still keeping your eyes and ears open." Jim, who could easily hear what his partner wasn't saying, again turned his eyes to the scenery they were passing-having decided the moment he'd heard the talk in the locker room that his eyes and ears would be open as well.

"You better believe it." Pete said just as he saw a young boy, who appeared to be around twelve, standing on the sidewalk that ran alongside the park waving him down.

"Wonder what's up," Jim said as his partner pulled to the side of the road.

"Don't know," Pete said as he came to a stop.

"You've got to help him!" The young boy ran up to the two officers who were getting out of their squad car.

"Help who?" Pete asked.

"My dad!" The boy, who was practically beside himself, turned and headed back into the park.

Pete and Jim might have stopped him only they saw a black-haired man sitting in the park rubbing the back of his head...and the boy was running straight towards the gentleman. Naturally, the two partners hurried across the grass, past a few trees and then stopped when they got to the man.

"What happened?" Jim looked at both the young boy and his father.

"I don't know." The young boy, thinking Jim was only talking to him, replied. "I was in the park's bathroom only, when I got back, dad was just lying there-and I couldn't get him to answer me."

"Are you alright, sir?" Pete looked at the man who didn't seem any worse for the wear.

"Besides the headache I have from being knocked out, I'm sure I'll be fine." The man started to stand up only to get dizzy and have to sit quickly back down."

"I think we best call for the paramedics. You need to get checked out." Pete looked at Jim.

"I'll go call for an ambulance." Jim hurried back to the squad car.

"Sir, can you tell me what happened?" Pete kept an eye on the man, hoping he really would be okay.

"The name is Boyd Thatcher, not sir." The man sighed and asked his son to go to his mother-who he could see had just pulled up to the other side of the park.

"But, Dad," The young boy started to protest only to be told again to, please, do as he was told.

"Okay, but I don't know why. We'll only be right back." The young man took off running towards his mother.

Pete, who caught on quickly as to why the man had sent his son away, again asked what had happened.

"I have been fighting a gambling problem." Mr. Thatcher sighed. "I was actually doing pretty good only, last month I slipped. I owe some money, and the man didn't want to wait for it even though I only owe him two hundred dollars. My word, it's not like I was thousands of dollars in debt to him."

"He do this to you?" Jim, who had returned and heard most of what Mr. Thatcher said, asked.

"Yeah, after he demanded that I give him my wallet. I refused, told him I only had a hundred dollars in it, and I needed to give it to my wife for groceries. I told him I'd have the two hundred for him in a couple of days. I would have had too-that's when I get paid."

"What's the man's name? What does he look like?" Pete asked.

"Don't know his real name, only the bartender at the bar I was gambling at called him Red." The gentleman, who could see the ambulance parking alongside the sidewalk, and his wife and son getting closer, begged the officers not to say anything to his wife and son. "I have joined a gambler's anonymous group. They meet once a week, and I am going to continue to attend- and I want to be the one to confess things to my wife. She deserves to hear the truth from me."

"Fine, but real quick," Pete, who was glad to hear the man was doing something about his problem, asked, "what did the man look like?" Neither he nor Jim were surprised when Mr. Thatcher's description matched that of Leon Philips. Once the ambulance had taken Mr. Thatcher away, and the man's wife and son had gone back to Mrs. Thatcher's car, Pete and Jim climbed back into their squad car.

Jim picked up the CB to put an APB out on Leon Phillips. "We'll get him, just wait and see. When we do, we'll find out what happened the morning of the accident."

"I hope so." Pete said as he started driving.