Along Came A Spider Ch. 01

"If your kid does that again, bitch," Spaulding said to the shocked mother, "I'll shoot him just like I shot that god-damned dog." To emphasize the point, Spaulding fired another round into Skippy's lifeless body. Blood flew everywhere.

"Tell your husband," said Spaulding, "that he should consider selling the pharmacy and leaving this county. Otherwise, something bad is going to happen to all of you." With that, Spaulding went back to his car and drove off.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

At 7:30pm, the Apple Grove Fire Department got a call that a downtown building was on fire. It was the Apple Grove Pharmacy. As the fire trucks rushed to the scene, they were blocked by Sheriff Deputy cars.

"Y'all ain't goin' nowhere." one Deputy said to the Fire Engine driver. "Not until it's... safe to approach." The message was clear.

Timmy Owens's father watched as his pharmacy and the building it was in burned to the ground, nothing but ashes remaining. Tears ran down his face as he heard the explosions of alcohol bottles and medicines inside. It had been his father's pharmacy, and his great-uncle's before that. Now it was engulfed in flames.

Sheriff Spaulding came up to him. "Too fucking bad about your pharmacy, Owens." he hissed. "You're going to find that it will be found to be arson. The Insurance Company is not going to pay you a dime until it's all figured out... and that might be years. And my own report will be very... discouraging for your claim."

Spaulding continued, hurling the words at Owens: "Guess you have no reason to be in the county any more, do you? Guess you better move your pretty little wife and that fucking brat of yours out of this county, before something worse happens to you, and especially before something happens to that little shit brat."

"You son of a bitch..." hissed Owens. He saw several Deputies surrounding him, knowing they were there to kill him if he tried anything.

"Watch your language, boy. Better get home to your wife." said Spaulding. "Leaving her alone is bad... niggers might break in and rape her while you're gone."

Owens knew that several other residents were protecting his family while he'd come to see about his now-burning pharmacy. Still, he knew he had no choice but to leave, go home, and get his guns ready for the attack that was sure to come...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I received a phone call at 9:30pm at home. The phone said the number was 'Blocked', and the person on the other side of the line spoke in a low growl, and I didn't recognize the voice. The person told me that the Apple Grove Pharmacy had been burned to the ashes, and that a dog had been shot by Sheriff Spaulding in front of an eight year old child. Needless to say, Your Iron Crowbar felt the burn of anger when he heard about what happened to that child and his dog.

"Looks like we're close." I said, mostly to myself. Laura looked up at me, and I explained what was going on.

At 11:30pm, I got a text from a burner phone. It simply said "Within two days."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Okay," I said, "I'm ready." I had a bag packed with some clothes. I was dressed in civilian clothes black pants and black pullover collared golf shirt. And the Tilley Hat with Airborne wings but no Police insignia.

"What should I tell Carole when she wakes up?" Laura said as we looked upon our sleeping daughter in her bed.

"Tell her I went to meetings, like her Mommy sometimes has to do." I said. "She sort of understands that." Laura nodded. I reached down and petted Bowser, who was looking at us skeptically. He settled down as we left the room. We then went into Jim's room, where I patted his back, then gave Buddy a petting.

Back downstairs, I hugged Laura. "I love you, baby." I said. "I'll be back soon."

"Be careful, darling." Laura whispered as she held me tightly. "I might can send some intel, but I can't help you much with this."

"Thanks." I said. I kissed her, then began wheeling my bag out the front door. Cindy was waiting for me in her SUV. She transported me up to the Cabin.

As I opened the garage door to let out the Black Beauty, she came up to me. "Be careful, Don." she said. "And come back in one piece, please?" She hugged me, and I returned the hug as warmly as I could.

"I will." I said. "I know you'll keep things in order here while I'm gone. Don't tell anyone but the Chief and Teresa where I am, though." Cindy agreed. She then handed me an envelope.

"It's what you asked for." she said simply. I put the envelope into a pocket of my trenchcoat as Cindy went back to her Police SUV and headed home.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As I drove the Black Beauty, which was actually green, down North Avenue to go west, I was actually pulled over by TCPD Officers! Since the night of Steven Moschel's capture, there had been a standing alert for an old green car...

As Sergeant Irwin and Patrolman Phil Goodwright approached cautiously, I rolled down the window.

"Sir, may I see.... Commander?" said Sergeant Irwin, stunned to see his Police Commander in the car.

"Yes, Sergeant, it's me." I said. Both officers relaxed, considerably relieved.

"Heck of a car, sir." said Irwin.

"Yeah, a relative of mine reconditions them." I said. "I'm going to take it for a spin on the bypass while there's not much traffic... unless you're going to arrest me, of course."

Both officers laughed. "No sir." said Irwin. "We'd prefer not to tangle with the Police Boxing Matches Champion." I grinned, we all said goodnight, and I was on my way...

Part 8 - Going Home Again

"Life is a mystery,

everyone must stand alone.

I hear you call my name,

and it feels like... home..."

------Madonna, 'Like A Prayer'

"Wow, look at this!" said a teenaged boy as I pulled into a strip mall in Rome, fifteen miles from Apple Grove at 9:00am, Friday, June 10th. "Nineteen-sixty-five Chrysler Imperial Crown! You ride in style, Mister!" Several teen boys, all wearing white t-shirts and blue jeans, gathered around to look. They were suitably awed.

"Thanks." I said, grinning. "Just don't try to steal it. It'll blow up if you do." I let the boys decide if I was telling the truth or lying about that. I went into the shop in front of me, the local ASPCA...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"That was aggressive, Spaulding, very aggressive." said Mitt Baker as he and the Sheriff talked in the Sheriff's office. "We're coming up on it. We don't need any distractions like that." He was referring to the shooting of the dog and the burning of the pharmacy.

"Don't worry, Mittens." said Spaulding derisively. "It's all going as planned. In fact, that pharmacy incident has allowed us to sneak more people in unnoticed while they're looking at the downtown mess.

"I'll take your word for it." said Baker. "Okay, I've got to run. I've got some big meetings in Rome today. You won't see me in person again... until this is all over."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Eight-year-old Timmy Owens sat on his front porch, moping, trying not to cry at the loss of his beloved dog Skippy. The day was clear and sunny, and would be warm later, but there was a pall in the air, and one could still smell the smoke of the pharmacy fire. Timmy had heard his parents whispering in the night, heard his mother crying. His dad had told him they had to be strong, but he didn't feel strong right now... he felt helpless, completely without hope.

He looked up to see a very tall man with a full-brim hat, a matching beige trenchcoat, and black pants and shirt coming up the walk. He looked warily at the man, whose hair was a lighter red than the Sheriff that had murdered his dog the day before. The man had a package of some kind under his trenchcoat, the boy observed.

"Hi, Timmy." I said. "My name is Don, and I grew up in this town. Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"I guess so." the kid said. I could sense the presence of his parents inside the house, looking out the screen door.

"I heard about your dog, Timmy." I said. I reached into my trenchcoat, into one of the spacious inner pockets. Love those inner pockets, I thought to myself. "I've brought you something."

I took out a puppy, only a few months old. "He's had his shots, and he needs a good home. How about here?"

Timmy smiled, then frowned. "He... he's not Skippy."

"Well," I said, handing him the dog and watching him pet the cute creature, who was a handsome looking beagle puppy, "when I was growing up here, I had a dog. His name was Tag. I called him Tag because he tagged along with me wherever I went. And Tag and I went everywhere, exploring all over Apple Grove and the county. Then Tag got old, and he died." I declined to mention Tag's fatal illness.

Timmy nodded as I continued: "So a little while later, another puppy came along, and followed me home. Well, that's what I told my mom. But I always believed that my dog Tag was somewhere in Heaven watching over me, and he sent me that new dog to keep me company. And I think Skippy is watching over you, and wants this dog to keep you company."

"What was your new dog's name?" asked Timmy.

"Patches. Had a couple of brown patches on his white back. Darn good dog, too." I said.

The puppy was wagging his tail as he sniffed around Timmy, who was warming up to it, and I knew a new bond was being formed. "Just do me one favor, Timmy... keep him inside for now. I don't want the Sheriff or his Deputies to see him until it's safe."

"When will that be?" asked Timmy.

"Soon." I said. "You'll know when it is. Oh, and would you give this to your mom and dad?" I took an envelope from another trenchcoat pocket and handed it to Timmy.

"Sure." he said.

"So," I said, standing up, "what are you going to name your new family member?"

"Don't know yet." Timmy said. "He'll let us know some way, pretty soon." I smiled. Astute boy, this was.

"Okay, see you later." I said.

"Sir?" he said. "What should I tell my mom and dad about this?"

I smiled and took my red crowbar out of its pocket inside the trenchcoat, displaying it. The boy's eyes grew wide as saucers; he now knew who I was, and the reputation of an old Apple Grove homeboy.

I stood erect and tall. "Tell them," I said in my most authoritative voice, "that the Iron Crowbar has returned to Apple Grove."

To be continued.