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ApartRental 

We have gotten many readers asking us when we will get to read

the next Chapter of this story well, as promised 

Chapter 2
At the other ends of town,

“What the hell happened here?” Officer Callaway asked loudly.
His Command Sergeant yelled back, “Looks to be some kind of, and stuttered a bit, mass graveyard or something amuck, maybe a damm serial killer”.
“Really you must be kidding me; in CherryPines no way can that be true, give me a smoke Jim.”
“On the job, you have to be kidding didn’t you quit, seems like our Sergeant don’t have the balls.”
“Just give me one, no need for shit.”
“Wow, this must be bad huh?”
“Yea, it is bad got to be, Officer Calloway answered himself
“Damm, I had better have one myself then.”
“Yea, you do that” his Sergeant seemed dazed.”
Neither said a thing as they both lit-up, the noonday sun had just begun, and a chill was already in the air, it was summer.

Jim Callaway was a certain man, certain about many things, just not very certain about his own things, he always new he would figure it out eventually. Yea, that is what they say.
“Jim pay attention, I need you to go pick up Charlie from the stationhouse, and bring the Police-Van we are going to need all the room we can.”
“For what Sarge, Jim looked puzzled; the ambulance is already here they can handle that, right?”
Sergeant Bernard Haley could not give an answer his mind was in a place it had not been before, dealing with this.
“I need you to redirect traffic off this street for a while, run it up Sycamore Avenue.”
“Do you have that, Jim?”
“All accept the Van part, what about that?”
“Officer Callaway, the Sergeant yelled, that is an order, bring the Van lets not wait until tomorrow, time is wasting”.

Jim wondered as he pulled up to the stationhouse; block the streets off he wondered, what the hell? In the middle of the day for just a murder gone wrong of some sort, this has to be big. Oh yea, very big.
“Charlie, The Sarge wants you to drive over the Department’s Police van, empty it out first.”
Charlie shook his head “Empty it out?” looking perplexed.
“He also needs three rolls of plastic for the crime-scene, you know, Sarge even called in the state police on this one can you believe in this small town, the state police.” Charlie shook his head and muttered.
Jim continued, dude, this one is big maybe a serial killer.”
Charlie Winkler’s eyes got big and wide, “No way?”
“Come on, first we are going to redirect some traffic off Prairie on to Sycamore. You follow?”
“I copy that.” Charlie shouted, as the van door rolled-shut.

Officer Jim Callaway just new something big was in the air, he was certain. So certain he guessed this years Super bowl winner from the start of the season, Charlie hated paying that bet. Jim Callaway has lived in CherryPines, Pennsylvania his whole life, “A Lifer” it is called in prison. He used to know everyone here but now, he is the only one left except for his drinking pal Cole Winkler and his little brother who live up the road from the parents. Most that live here now he thought were all outsiders, move-ins, and more like transplants from another city or town, perhaps another world. Charlie, get another barricade out of the van so we can get going, come on, hey? Are you here? Charlie snapped out of it. Yea, I am here; you have enough now, take that one spread them out more, and use your brain god gave you, what training you had we will never know. Eat turd, Charlie shouted back, had same training as you. Charlie Winkler was Cole Winkler’s little brother, two years younger than Jim Callaway that made him the oldest, he liked that, and may have used it to his advantage when the time happened, which was always. Where we heading now Cole said looking at the nicely arranged barricades over the street, heading to the scene? What, you want to see over there anyways, that cannot wait? Charlie knew the tone very well. I do not want any nonsense Jim; see here we are officers of the law. That is exactly what we are Charlie my good friend.

Glad you could get here so quick, what did you say on the radio, were you joking serial killer, or did I get that wrong? He grinned. No, you got that right, looks that way but, how would I know, never seen one to know. He glared at the state trooper; he held out his hand, I am Sargent Bernard Haley, of hick-town USA, glad to meet you. I am Trooper Jack West out of Central State, not a hick-town. He stuttered slightly, while looking around at so many plastic bags. What exactly is going on here? The trooper said. Wish I could tell you Mr. West, But, it appears we have a small situation here. The count already had exceeded 26, not counting half-full bags. What do you make off it Mr. West? Bernard asked, trying to mask the stench with his collar. Well, appears to be body parts, all body parts, some clean, fresh, some look to be ages old, the trooper coughed loudly as they both stumbled outside in the light. Bernard dropped to his knees and started to convulse and hurl this mornings Café Special. Bernard looked up, what you got an iron stomach. No, use that mental block therapy. Oh yea, how's that going as he wiped the remaining eggs off his mustache, spitting, he muttered a bad word under his breath. Jack looked at the Sarge, only to start heaving his gut a little himself, not very well, if I can say that, my god, what kind of person does this. Sargent Haley looked to the door of the apartment complex, outside littered with green trash bags, almost too many to count. He whispered to himself, why here in our town. My deputy should be back quick to help get this cleaned up, we do not want a first class spectacle on our hands now do we, he looked around for Trooper Jack and spotted him around the building looking. What are you looking for a clue or something? I don’t think you will find much out here, huh? Jack looked up puzzled for a bit, well that is something we should do, it is a crime scene, and very soon, it will be dark. He stood up, hands on the hips, how you people up here handle this type of crime scene? The Sarge thought a bit and said us people in his mind before speaking, the only thing he could say. Well, we would do what any police department of our size in hick town USA, we would call in the State Police that is you right? Sergeant Haley almost had enough of this slick city kid, maybe like to see him in a plastic bag or two.

Well Liza, do tell how your father would come to this end, I mean this situation, him living alone and all huh? Liza could not believe her bluntness well he needs his own space and I do too I am not a spring chicken anymore something her mother might say she guessed. They both laughed only she felt Mrs. Morris was laughing at her. They walked down the red wallpapered hallway, she continued about how it must be a shame to have to put your father away. Liza stopped, grabbed her by the arm and spun her around, with her finger pointed, told her she was not putting anyone away, this was the best thing for her family to do, and really, it was not her business after all.

(To Be Continued, Next Month)  

We hope you have enjoyed the second installment of Story Corner. Depending on the readers responce we will have the next installment next month. Please feel free to let us know what you think. Do you like it? or Don't like it? E-mail your comments or suggestions to StoryCorner@BlindFallsPublishing.com

Thanks Again, for visiting Story Corner we hope to see you again for this timely event.

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