Status Update – Deadman

I thought I’d take a quick chance to tell you how it’s going.

I’m still on track for a December release. The rough draft is almost finished. And now comes the part where it becomes a novel worth reading.

I don’t know how a lot of writers work, but I get the rough draft done first. I have to. If I don’t, I spend eternity getting the “perfect” first chapter and never finish the novel. I get it down, clean it up (translation, fix the grammar mistakes and misspellings, and then move forward).

Deadman is becoming exactly what I wanted. It’s a love story framed by a murder mystery. And unlike a lot of murders that’s solved in a matter of days, this one take place over years. While you don’t have to have a body to prove murder, it sure helps. Up to the point Howard Brightman’s remains are found, we believe he simply went off in the storm and died.

Not so. Now it’s trying to sort out what happened.

Now, if you read my third novel, Broken People, you know Pam Harmon had a horrible breakdown. One that put her on the edge of a bridge, contemplating suicide. We tracked her redemptive arc through that novel and through the fourth, Event Horizon, where it ends with her being Undersheriff when Will becomes the Sheriff.

And we know she and RJ went out to Napa in what turns out to be a wasted trip to find out the truth of what occurred up in the mountains. We never saw it from her and RJ’s POV.

And that’s the story I really wanted to tell. Yes, the case is important. But it’s their relationship that is the story. In both cases, it’s about learning to trust again.

It’s also about doing your job.

One of the hardest things I ever had to do was my job.

I was a rookie officer in Alamosa, Colorado. My friend Andy Henderson and I almost always worked the same shift, and we worked in the bar district. We almsot always worked the “Bar” shift, the niht time hours from 6PM to 2 AM. This gave us coverage over the bar area which was always a looming threat for vuiolence.

But after our shift, we almost always got the campus police to let us into the gym at Adams State. The students were all in bed. The place locked up. And we had it out ourselves. There, we lifted weights and occasionally went swimming.

On this one night, we were there working out, and the Campus Officer was still there talking with us. They used the same radio frequency the city (we dispatched for them), and so we could hear what’s going on.

We’re lifting and we hear of a disturbance at one of the local trailer parks. It gave the location, and I remember Andy saying, “Isn’t that where your weird cousin lives?”

I shook my head. “Maybe. I’m not sure.” I knew it was close.

We kept on lifting and listening. It sounds like World War III had erupted down there. It seems it was members of my family.

The background here is that it was a blended family. My uncle had married this lady with a couple of grown children. It most certainly wasn’t the Brady Bunch. More like the Borgias. The home was a powder keg.

Well, that night, the fuse had been lit, and it exploded

The neighbors had called it in.

We’re still lifting when the patrol supervisor calls, saying to get me down there, that maybe I could talk them out. It appears the situation had gone totally crazy now.

Andy and I always carried our off-duty weapons when we visited the gym, and we started rushing for the door. The campus cop yelled that he’d give us a ride down there. So, we drove down, lights and siren, and I’m talking to the patrol supervisor over the radio.

Apparently, it started as drinking, became a domestic dispute, and there’s supposed to be guns involved now and a hostage situation.

When we arrived, the streets were locked down. Nearby homes had been evacuated. The flashing overheads of patrol cars and the ambulance cast a nightmarish disco like quality over the darkened trailer park.

A single glance told me the tactical situation was bad, and I was the only hope to resolve this quickly and peacefully.

No pressure here.

I was about to get on the loudspeaker and try to talk them out when the situation changed again.

Before I could do anything, someone yelled, “They’re fighting inside again!

It was the perfect time to hit the door. The Patrol Supervisor yelled, “Let’s go in.”

Andy, the campus cop, and I crouched down behind one of the patrol cars. Our job would be to provide cover fire if we had to.

So, here I am, dressed in PTs and wearing tennis shoes. I’m holding a snub nose 38 in my hand. I’m pointing it over the hood of a police car at my uncle’s house, and the thought goes through my mind, “Can you really shoot this man you’ve known all your life?”

I knew I could and would.

The thought later startled me. I was officially a cop and not the kid I’d been 6 months before. I’d do my duty.

The other officers rushed up the steps, threw themselves against the door, which exploded open, and rushed in. I heard a shout from inside the trailer, “We don’t need this!” More shouts of “On the ground. Let’s see your hands. On the ground.”

I left cover and when I dashed in.

My uncle and the boys were face down on the floor. Classic felony bust.

By now, I’d holstered my weapon, taken out my handcuffs and cuffed my uncle. I helped him to his feet, and he’s asking the patrol sup what the charge is.

“Uncle____, just off the cuff, I’d say domestic disturbances, assault, and assault with a weapon. There will probably be more.”

He turned and looked at me wide-eyed.

“Where did you come from?” he asked.

The only thing that made me look official was the pistol in the shoulder rig. But I was functioning as a police officer.

“Through the front door with everyone else,” was all I could say.

I took him out and got him into one of the patrol cars, which took him to jail.

Months later, I’d have to testify concerning it.

Blood might be thicker than water, but that night caused me to realize there are some things even thicker than blood.

And it wasn’t until I sat down and started this blog entry that I realized I hadn’t thought of the events of that night in almost forty years.

So, Pam faces the same dilemma.

Can she really arrest someone she thinks of as a brother?