Yesterday rising, p.1
Yesterday Rising, page 1
YESTERDAY RISING
Three Crime Novellas
Stephen Burdick
Copyright © 2023 by Stephen Burdick
All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
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The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Cover design by Margo Nauert
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Memories Forgotten
Englewood
Yesterday Rising
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Books by the Author
Preview from 27 Days by Patrick H. Moore
Preview from Quietly Into the Night by Vincent Zandri
Preview from Right Between the Eyes by Scott Loring Sanders
For Lynn,
My mentor, My friend
Memories Forgotten
Chapter 1
Joe Hampton shifted from one foot to the other and tugged at his tie. Being the focal point of the assembled group of detectives was to blame for his uneasiness, a feeling he hadn’t experienced since his days as a rookie patrolman.
He’d been to the Homicide office of the Clearwater Police Department once before and felt like he’d come home. The detectives’ desks with computers atop them were neatly arranged, each defining the personality of its owner with paperwork, files, and personal items lying about. The air smelled of various colognes and perfumes blended with strong coffee, a staple of humankind in every office. Gone was the odor of stale cigarette smoke.
Besides being difficult, today was different. Today he was joining the team.
“All right, everyone, listen up!” Detective Sergeant Carly Truffant began. “A suggestion to hire a consultant was passed along to the brass, and they have okayed it.”
“Kissing up to the captain again, Carly?” Detective Cliff Parton said.
The group laughed—all but one.
Carly gave Parton a disgusted smile. “Looking to get back into uniform, Cliff?”
“Oooh!” the group sang.
Parton chuckled.
Joe nodded to him then shifted his eyes to the female detective who found no humor in the banter.
“As I was about to say,” Carly continued, “our choice for the position is Joe Hampton, although I almost didn’t recognize him all dressed up.”
The group laughed again—except for the woman.
“Joe is a retired homicide detective from Philadelphia P.D., or Philly, as they like to say, and has assisted us in the past. I feel he will be a tremendous asset. He is with us on an as-needed basis, so let’s not work him too hard. Any questions?”
The group murmured while exchanging glances.
Joe made eye contact with each detective before settling on the humorless woman. Her expression never changed.
“Joe, would you like to add anything?”
“Well, it’s good to be here, and feel free to call on me at any time, day or night.” He turned to Carly. “That’s it.”
“All right, let’s get back to work.”
Joe focused on the woman again and watched her all the way to her desk. “Who is that?”
Carly did a quick scanning of the room. “Which one are you talking about?”
“The detective with the sandy blonde hair just sitting down.”
“Oh, that’s Danielle McMasters. We call her Dani. She’s new to the department.”
“Takes her job seriously, doesn’t she?”
“Doesn’t everyone in the beginning?”
Joe glanced at his friend and grinned. “Some still do.”
“All right, that’s enough out of you.”
“I may be wrong, but it seems like she resents me.”
“Don’t be so sensitive. You’re a charming man, but you’re not going to win over everyone right away.”
“I don’t pretend to think that I can, it’s just…”
“So how’s life at the Crimson Conch?”
“Couldn’t be better. Things are running smoothly, residents are happy for the most part, and occupancy, even the rentals, is at capacity.”
Carly twisted her mouth into a crooked smile. “Someone told me there’s a new love interest in your life.”
Joe furrowed his brow. “Who?”
“Who told me, or who’s your new friend?”
“Do you mean Leslie?”
Carly’s eyes danced skyward. “So now it’s Leslie.”
“Will you stop it! She happens to be from Pennsylvania and we…connected.”
“She’s from Philadelphia, and she has designs on you.”
“Who told you that?”
“Hoo! Hoo!” Carly mocked, and laughed. “Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies.”
Joe growled and shook his head. “Have you seen David lately?”
“Not since last week. I was planning on stopping by his apartment after I was finished here.”
“Tell him I said hello, and I’ll see him in the next couple of days.”
Joe nodded. “The mobility in his shoulder is getting better.”
“And I, for one, am glad. I’m hoping to get him back in a week or two.”
“He’s quite a young man.”
“I know. It’s not the same without him. I feel like I’m missing my right arm.”
“He’s a better man than I am.”
Carly pinched up her face. She could see the hurt lingering in his eyes. “What’re you talking about?”
“He forgave me for getting him shot. I don’t think I could have done that.”
“Of course you could, Joe. You know the risks of going out in the field every day.”
“It should never have happened. You know it and I know it. I couldn’t…”
“You couldn’t what?”
“A couple of years after I made detective I was nearly killed because of a rookie’s mistake. He was a patrolman just out of the academy. He mistook me for a killer we’d cornered. Lucky for me he was a bad shot. I was so mad they had to pull me off him. He tried to apologize a number of times. I didn’t speak to him for almost a year.”
“But you finally had a change of heart.”
“Yeah, with a little help.” Joe chuckled. “Joyce kept pushing and prodding me the way only she knew how.”
“And it all worked out.”
“Yeah. Good thing, too. Shortly before I retired that rookie became a captain.”
Carly and Joe exchanged smiles as they had done so many times before.
“Well, I’d better get out of the way.”
“Joe, let’s do dinner sometime soon.”
“Sounds good to me.”
As he turned for the door, Joe looked over his shoulder.
McMasters’s blue eyes were riveted on him, glaring in a most unpleasant manner.
David greeted Joe with a warm smile and a firm handshake at the front door of his apartment. His left arm was still in a sling, but his spirits had been lifted by being out of the hospital—that, and the sight of the old detective.
“Come in, come in. Can I get you some coffee?”
“No, I’m okay.” Joe looked around, unsure as to where he should sit. “Is there any place in particular…?”
“No, no, anywhere is fine.”
A brown, two-seater sofa shared a chocolate area rug with a gray vinyl recliner. Facing them was a forty-inch television, the only item on the four vanilla walls, except for two wood-framed, black-and-white photos mounted side-by-side on the rear wall.
I guess anywhere is here, Joe thought, and dropped down onto the sofa. “How’s your shoulder? I’d have thought you would have tossed the sling by now.”
David beamed as he took to the recliner. “I don’t need it. I only keep it on because the doctor said I should. You know, keep the department and the insurance company happy.”
“When are you planning to go back?”
“Next week, I hope. That’s what I’m pushing for.”
“Before I forget, Carly says hello, and she’ll be coming to see you soon.”
David’s elation faded. “I sure do miss being at work. I never thought I would. It’s funny how you don’t think you’ll miss something until it’s gone. Know what I mean?”
Joe stared at him a second then smiled.
“Of course you know what I mean. How could I be so stupid? You’re the new consultant, right?”
Joe fiddled with his tie. “Indoctrinated this morning. I think I’m overdressed.”
“I almost didn’t recognize you.”
“Well, take a good look because you won’t see me duded up like this very often.”
“Did you meet the gang today?”
“Yes. Not individually, though.”
“We have a good team. You’ll enjoy working with them.”
The thought of inquiring about Danielle McMasters crossed Joe’s mind
“Are you kidding? Once you get to know them and they get to know you, you’ll be glad you did.”
“What can you tell me about Detective McMasters?”
“Dani? She’s the newest member of the team. Been with us five or six months, I believe. Why?”
“She didn’t seem too thrilled with my being there. Maybe something else was bothering her.”
“Really? That’s not like her. She’s always been very friendly around me.”
“Is she having a hard time adjusting to Homicide?”
“Not that I can tell. She’s made a few mistakes. New kid stuff, but nothing major.”
“Is she married?”
“Why, Joe, I’m surprised at you. She’s young enough to be your granddaughter.”
“I can tell you’re feeling better.”
David laughed. “No, she’s not married. I don’t think there’s anyone in her life right now. She hasn’t mentioned it, anyway.”
Joe nodded.
“Maybe her day didn’t start off right. Don’t let it worry you.”
“Okay. Well, I’d better be going. Time to get back to my other job.”
“You keeping all the residents in line?”
“As best I can.
“Carly tells me you’ve got a new girlfriend.”
“Oh, she did, did she? I can see there won’t be any secrets with you two around.”
David’s bursting into laughter made him feel better.
“She just moved in. She’s from Pennsylvania. We enjoy talking about home.”
“You out-of-towners, I swear.”
“What?”
“You move to Florida, but all you talk about is home. Home is where you are, Joe, not where you were.”
“I’ll try to remember that.”
David walked Joe to the door, and they shook hands. “Don’t be a stranger,” David said.
“I won’t.”
As Joe walked to his car, he began to think about Dani McMasters. Something was definitely bothering the rookie detective. And he was sure that something had to do with him.
Chapter 2
Memorial Causeway stretched from the edge of downtown Clearwater to Clearwater Beach, flanked on both sides by water. Joe had traveled the road many times, not as many as some of the natives liked to remind him, but as much as any other transplant. Born and raised Floridians always enjoyed poking fun at the newcomers and winter visitors—snowbirds they called them—and their inability to cope with the real Florida weather that arrived in July and August.
Joe had dismissed the events of the morning except for the lingering agitation as to why Dani McMasters had given him the stink-eye. He wasn’t a threat to her job. He wasn’t taking over the department. To his way of thinking, his knowledge and expertise would seldom be called upon. When it was, she would benefit the most. What she found objectionable about his presence was a mystery to him.
“I guess I remind her of someone she doesn’t like,” he muttered to himself. “Hope it’s not a relative…or her father.”
He steered his car onto Island Way and negotiated his way through the parking lot of the Crimson Conch Condominiums a short distance later. Easing to a halt in his designated parking space, he removed his tie, picked up his coat from the passenger seat, and got out.
The mid-morning sun was close to a full burn and baking the asphalt, releasing an all-too-familiar odor as he strolled past the long line of cars. A bead of sweat streamed down the left side of his face, dropping onto his white dress shirt when he mounted the sidewalk under the concrete overhang. Summer was just around the corner and he could feel it already.
The glass doors to the lobby slid open and a blast of cold air rushed out to greet him. A drastic change in temperature that always took some getting used to—the hotter the day, the stronger the shock.
Joe headed straight for the building manager’s office. He draped his coat over the back of the padded office chair and sat down, then wheeled himself up to the desk. A flashing light on the telephone indicated that someone had left a message. He punched the button and waited.
“Joe, this is Tessie Birnbaum, number five-fifty-one. The kitchen sink is drooling. Would you, please, arrange for a plumber to come by? Thank you.”
Smiling, he picked up the receiver, checked the caller I.D., and rang the woman.
“Oh, Joe, thank goodness. I was getting worried.”
“What seems to be the problem, Tessie?”
“The sink is drooling…I mean, water is drooling into the sink from the spout.”
“The water won’t shut off?”
“The water is shut off. It’s running into the sink from where the spout goes into the base.”
“Sounds like a bad seal. Is the water coming out fast?”
“No, it’s just…drooling.”
“Okay, I’ll get a plumber out here right away.”
“It won’t burst, will it, Joe? The seal I mean?”
“Don’t worry, Tessie. It’ll be fine.”
Joe let go a sharp exhale through his nose as he hung up the receiver. “At least I hope it’ll be fine.” He picked up the receiver, pressed the button for the Contacts List then punched the Speed Dial button for Stop-Leak Plumbing.
A soft knocking pulled his eyes to the door. The door slowly opened, and a small, stocky woman stepped into the room. Her smile was as bright as her brown eyes, and the silver streaks in her wavy black hair perfectly framed her soft, round face. The years had forgotten her age, one of the first things he’d noticed when she’d come to inquire about a vacancy. He held up one finger.
“This is Joe Hampton at the Crimson Conch Condominiums. I have a situation that needs attention.”
He provided the woman who answered with the information, stressing the concern of the resident, and was assured the problem would be addressed as soon as possible.
Joe replaced the receiver and smiled at the five-foot-three woman standing beside the desk. “And how may I help you, Mrs. Symington?”
The woman’s smile disappeared, her brow furrowed, and she pressed her lips together in thought.
“I’m looking for someone. He wasn’t home, so I left a note on his door, but he hasn’t come back yet.”
“Have you tried calling him?”
“I did. He didn’t answer. I think he forgot his phone.”
“What does he look like?”
“He’s about your height, has gray hair like yours, and is about the same weight, but he’s much better looking.”
“Hey!”
The woman laughed—an enjoyable sound that lifted his spirits higher.
Joe laughed with her.
“I’m sorry, Joe. I couldn’t resist.”
“You’re in a good mood today, Leslie.”
“So good that I’m thinking of going out for lunch. Care to join me?”
“I’d be delighted.”
“Is one o’clock okay? The lunch crowd should start thinning out by then.”
“Sure.”
“And you’ll wear something that won’t make you look like an old stuffed shirt?”
“If you insist. Do you have some place special in mind?”
“I’ve been dying to try Wally’s Weiner Wonderland on Pier 60.”
“Wally’s Weiner Wonderland?”
“They have a wide variety of hot dogs and Bratwurst. You don’t care for hot dogs?”
“Well, frankly speaking, my dear, we could throw some dogs on the grill out back and woof them down by the pool.”
Leslie laughed again. “Oh, Joe, you are so funny.”
“Wally’s will be fine.”
“I was just joking. I’d really like to go to Frenchy’s Rockaway Grill.”
Joe’s elation vanished.
Leslie noticed the change in him. “Would you rather go somewhere else?” Her voice was soft with concern.
“No, uh, Frenchy’s is fine. The food is good.”
“What is it, Joe?”
“I’ll tell you about it sometime.”
He did his best to smile, hoping to chase away the vision of Rusty Goodfellow. Rusty’s wife, Nancy, had moved to Boca Raton, unable to remain at the Crimson Conch after Rusty was murdered.
