WEEK OF MAY 19TH WINNER FEATURE
Tasha Lessey
Author of the Urban Fantasy, Smokescreen
Author of the Urban Fantasy, Smokescreen
Book synopsis:
It starts in Washington when a lone gunman enters a busy burger chain and opens fire killing twenty five people. It continues in Paris, London, Sydney and Beijing. Authorities, including FBI agent Jack Rossi find no motive or any connection between the shootings causing fear and panic in the world’s major cities.
As Jack scrambles to get answers, he stumbles upon a secret world of hybrid humans, moles and a threat he never saw coming. One that could lead to the loss of an unprecedented number of lives. Including his own.
Author Bio:
Tasha Lessey is an avid cook and tennis fan. She holds a Bachelor of
Science in Computer Science and worked as a teacher for many years. When
she is not writing, she enjoys spending time in the outdoors. She would
love to hear from you! Connect with her at www.tashalessey.blendfusion.
Excerpt One (Long)
Her penchant for French fries and
hamburgers had finally gotten her in trouble. Except it wasn’t the
cardiovascular, ‘you should take care of your heart’ kind. It was more the ‘move
and you’re dead’ kind.
Jennifer
Malloy lay on the floor of Big ‘Ole Burgers trying her hardest not to move a
muscle. Her head lay on her plump arm and there were goose bumps where her arm
made contact with the cold tiles of the floor. Moments earlier a man had
entered the restaurant and opened fire on the patrons. She had just taken a
bite of her cheeseburger when he had turned his gun towards her and shot her in
the chest. She had slid to the floor and was now playing dead.
The
shock hadn’t worn off yet and her brain was still trying to come to terms with
what had just happened. She felt like this couldn’t possibly be real; however
the sharp, throbbing pain in her chest proved otherwise. Wet blood spilled out
of her wound flowing river-like down her body. An image of the gunman’s face
flashed through her mind. The cold, dead stillness in his eyes. The determined
line his lips formed as he aimed and fired. Why was he doing this? Who was he?
And most importantly, when was he going to stop?
Her
eyes were closed and her other senses sharpened to pick up the slack. The loud
screams of people desperately trying to get away shattered in her brain
threatening to give her a headache. Equally potent was the smell of burnt
hamburgers and freshly bled blood. An unlikely eau-de-toilette.
Jennifer
struggled to remain absolutely still. She had never realized how difficult it
was—she felt her legs tremble and it took an extreme effort to stop them from
moving. The last thing she wanted was for the gunman to notice she was still alive
and try to finish the job. Stay calm, she told herself.
Her
body did not co-operate as her legs started their involuntary contractions
again and she felt her armpits grow wet. Her heart continued beating at
breakneck speed and gushed pints and pints of blood causing her T-shirt to
cling to her body. This wasn’t False Evidence Appearing Real. It was FEAR,
plain and simple.
The
gunman seemed to have developed a rhythm to his shooting. Pausing only to
reload his gun, the ‘pop-pop-pop’ came at regular intervals along with the thud
of bodies falling to the floor.
The
place grew still for a moment. Jennifer wondered what was going on. Dare she
venture a peek? The sound of quickly approaching police sirens gave Jennifer
hope. This will be all over soon, she thought. Jennifer slowly opened her eyes
just in time to see the gunman drop the gun. It clanked on the tile next to his
scuffed, brown leather boots. He raised his hands in surrender and went down on
his knees. Through the glass doors, she saw policemen leap out of their
vehicles with their guns drawn. They rushed into the restaurant, one of them
handcuffing the shooter, others heading to people’s aid.
Jennifer
let out a long, slow breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. Thank God
it’s over, she thought. The fear which had gripped her heart loosened its hold
slowing down her heart’s frantic pace. She tried to call out for help but only
a whisper came out. Her throat felt dry and raw. Clearing her throat, she made
another attempt. The darkness swam before her eyes and she lost consciousness.
***
Metropolitan
Police Headquarters, Washington
Captain
Lewis’ office at the metropolitan police headquarters was as standard issue as
a policeman’s uniform. It was painted a dull, light grey with the customary
framed commendations hanging on the wall. There was an L-shaped desk in the
center of the room with a computer on the shorter side of the ‘L’. A filing
cabinet was flush against the wall to the back of the room. On the longer part
of his desk were stacks of case files scattered about and a half full cup of
coffee.
FBI
agent Jack Rossi, along with Lauren Jeffries, sat in the two chairs facing the
captain’s desk waiting for him to come in. Jack glanced at his watch. They had
already been waiting for ten minutes and he was anxious for the meeting to get
started. They had been called in to talk about the lunchtime shooting at Big ‘Ole
Burger. Due to its violent nature and the possibility of terrorist links it
necessitated collaboration with the FBI. The door opened and Captain Lewis
rushed in. He was a solid, middle aged-man with hair that was graying and
thinning at the top. Shaking their hands quickly, he took the seat behind his
desk.
“Sorry
for the delay. It couldn’t be helped. What a way to start the week.” He reached
inside his pocket for a handkerchief and wiped his brow. “Jack, Lauren, nice to
see you both again. Though I wished it wasn’t under these circumstances.”
“Same
here. The shooting has gotten everyone shaken up. What’s this world coming to
when it is not safe to get a burger?” Jack said.
Captain
Lewis sighed. “I remember when they first had to put metal detectors in
schools. Now this. Anyway, let me summarize what we’ve got so far. Around five
after twelve the shooter entered Big ‘Ole Burgers on 600 7th Street. He shot up
the place killing twenty and wounding fifteen. The shooter has been identified
as John Cassidy, a twenty-two year old white male. His motive is unidentified
so far. He wasn’t a disgruntled employee, former or current. We are checking to
see if he had a relationship with any of the victims. We’re also waiting on the
results of some drug tests. He is scheduled for a psychiatric evaluation later
today. So far we’ve determined no history of mental breaks.” Captain Lewis took
a sip of coffee and shuddered. “Ughh. Cold. We got the weapon—a Beretta 3032
Tomcat with the serial number scratched off. We did a preliminary search of his
car and found his cell phone and not much else. Forensics is going over it now.
Am, what else? Cassidy worked at an automotive repair shop down on Ontario Rd
and rented a room a few blocks away.”
“Have
you talked to his boss yet?” Lauren asked.
“Yeah.
He was genuinely surprised when he learned what happened. He said John called
in sick today which was unusual: he hardly ever took any time off. He described
him as a good kid: respectful, always on time, hard worker. Gave us the old ‘I
can’t believe John would do this’ line. He did notice him acting a little
preoccupied lately but said he didn’t interfere in his workers’ lives.”
“Guess
planning a massacre is a little distracting,” Jack muttered.
“What
about his co-workers?” Lauren asked.
“Same
story.” Captain Lewis looked at his desk and starting rummaging through the
stack of files he had haphazardly strewn all over it. As he shifted the files,
Jack noticed coffee stains on some of them. Finally, he found what he was
looking for. He handed Jack a file with a videotape on top.
“Here is what we have so far—that’s the
surveillance video from the restaurant. You’ll be liaising with Detective Eddie
on this one.”
“Anyone
question Cassidy yet?”
“No.
You’ve got first crack.”
“We’re on it.”
Captain
Lewis nodded and opened one of the files on his desk. Jack and Lauren got up
and headed down to the second floor to the wing with the interrogation rooms.
“Hey Jack!”
Jack
turned around and saw Detective Eddie Nelson walk towards him. Eddie was tall
and well built, a testament to the many hours he logged in at the gym. He had
short, black, thick hair and tanned, brown skin. Jack gave Eddie a bear hug and
a tap on the back.
“How
was the game last night?”
“Cool.
Too bad you couldn’t make it. We cleaned them up!”
Jack
smiled and gave him a high five. “I’m going to do everything I can to make it
next Sunday.”
“You better. Captain tells me we’ll be working
the Cassidy case together.” He paused and smiled at Lauren. “Howdy Miss Lauren,”
Eddie said in the best southernly gentleman voice he could muster.
Jack
smiled. He knew Eddie enjoyed teasing her.
Lauren
rolled her eyes. “Eddie, always a pleasure to see you. Guys, I’m going to the
ladies’ room. Meet me at the interrogation room. Don’t be long.”
As
Lauren walked away, Eddie gave a low, appreciative whistle. “I don’t know how
you do it. How can you resist all that?”
Jack
watched Lauren’s ample derriere and hourglass figure disappear around the
corner. He had to admit that Lauren was a stunner. Long, black hair he was
convinced she wore in a braid to frustrate him, big beautiful blue eyes, high
cheekbones and luscious lips—she had the face of a high fashion model. And a
body straight from the pages of a Victoria’s Secret catalog. Jack couldn’t deny
that he was often tempted. But Lauren wasn’t the type of woman you had a casual
affair with. And after his messy divorce, he avoided such complications like a
kid avoided bullies. “Two words—Vanessa Davidson.”
Vanessa
was his ex-wife. They had been married for two years and he had made many
mistakes. His dedication to his job had been a major issue. He often had to
keep secrets from her and she had accused him of loving his work more than her.
He had vehemently denied it at the time but in retrospect he was ashamed to
admit she was right. It had led to ugly fights and an even uglier divorce.
“That
was a long time ago, man. Get over it and move on,” Eddie said.
Jack
shook his head and decided to ignore Eddie’s prodding.
“Anyway,
let’s go talk to this John Cassidy guy. Have you seen him?”
“Just
when they were bringing him in. His eyes man. They were so cold. So dead.”
Chapter 2
Jack gritted his teeth and stared at
the light blue wall of the interrogation room. He took a deep breath and tried
to keep his temper in check. If he could sum up John Cassidy in one word it
would be devoid. Devoid of feeling. Devoid of remorse. And devoid of speech.
John
hadn’t answered a single one of his questions. In fact he just looked at Jack
like he was looking at a blank TV-screen. His state appointed lawyer sat to the
right of him fidgeting and adjusting his glasses. He looked like he was fresh
out of law school—no top notch state defender for John. Eddie stood in the
corner of the interrogation room, his arms folded across his chest.
Lauren
was in the seat next to Jack and had let Jack do most of the talking. He knew
she preferred to observe from the sidelines. She rarely intervened unless it
was to stop Jack from doing something out-of-hand which Jack felt could be any
moment now. His frustration level was setting new world records.
“Let
me try again. Who are you working with?” Jack leaned so close into John’s face
he could see his pores.
Silence.
No answer. No change of expression.
“Dammit!”
Jack pounded his fist on the table. The glass of water which had been sitting
untouched on the table fell over and spilled its contents. Jack sat down never
taking his eyes off of John. What was this guy’s deal? He couldn’t get a feel
for him. After ten years at the FBI, he could put ‘reading people’ as one of
the skills on his resumé. Not now though.
On
the surface, John Cassidy looked like an average Joe. Five feet eight inches,
one hundred and eighty pounds with brown hair, brown eyes, he could easily
blend in a crowd of people. But as he had often learned in his line of work,
ordinary people often did out of the ordinary things.
“Listen
kid. You are looking at spending a lot of time behind bars. If you co-operate
you can make things a whole lot easier on yourself,” Eddie said.
Eddie
might as well have been talking to the concrete wall. John kept the blank
expression on his face which he had worn since the beginning of the
interrogation. Jack glanced at his watch. They had been at it for half an hour
already and they still hadn’t learned anything. Was this the beginning of some
larger plot or an isolated act? The fact that John refused to say anything and
that he had schooled his body language to reveal nothing suggested that he was
not working alone. This is what nagged at Jack the most. If it was true it
meant that there was more trouble to come.
Lauren
put her hand on Jack’s arm. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”
Jack
knew she was right. He stood up and rumpled John’s hair roughly. “This isn’t
over kid.”
He
looked over at Lauren and Eddie and signaled for them to leave. Once they were
outside the room, he let out a deep breath. “What do you guys think?”
“Either
that guy’s a stone cold pyscho or he’s not acting alone. Maybe after he spends
the night in lockup, he might loosen his lips,” Eddie said.
“I
doubt. That guy has been trained very well. Meanwhile, let’s head out to his
apartment and see if we find anything.”
“I
have some things to wrap up here. You guys go on ahead and fill me in later.”
“Ok.
We’ll call you when we’re done. You ready Jack?” Lauren said.
“Yeah.
Let’s get to the bottom of this.”
***
“This
shouldn’t take long,” Jack said as he looked around John Cassidy’s small
bachelor pad. With one glance he was able to survey the entire apartment. The
bedroom and living room were one and the same and was separated from the
kitchen by a long counter top. There was a bureau underneath a lone window with
tan blinds that were closed. The single-sized bed was jammed to the wall. There
was a door on one side and a computer desk in the corner on the other.
While
Lauren booted up the computer, Jack walked over to the window and pulled up the
blinds. The afternoon light flooded the apartment and Jack shielded his eyes
from the glare. He bent over and pulled out the top bureau drawer. The clothes
were neatly folded inside; there were the usual T-shirts and jeans. He then
opened the bottom drawer searching around the underwear and socks. Nothing. “What’s
on his computer?” he asked.
“So
far nothing of interest. He is a dedicated mechanic. Hard drive is full of
stuff on cars.”
Jack
crouched down to look under the bed and noticed some shiny metallic dust
particles on the brown carpet. He passed his hand over it and against the cream
color of his latex gloves he could see that it was grey and granular. Pulling
an evidence bag and a spatula from his pocket, he collected as much he could
into the bag.
“Nothing
suspicious on the computer. We’ll have to take it down to the lab for a deeper
scan. Maybe he deleted something they can recover. I’ll request his internet
browsing records from his ISP when we get back to the office. I’m going to
check the bathroom,” Lauren said.
Jack
looked up as Lauren passed him. He couldn’t help but be struck again by her
beauty. It was as if she was sculpted out of a man’s fantasy. He derided himself
for letting his thoughts wander at a time like this. At any rate, as he had
reminded himself many times over the years they were working together, Lauren
was off-limits. No matter how his body reacted to hers, she was his partner so
going down that road would be messy. It was best to avoid it.
Jack
got up and went into the kitchen. He opened the cupboards and the fridge. There
was nothing out of the ordinary. He noticed a jacket hanging from a hook on the
wall to the side of the entrance door to the apartment. He went through the
pockets and found a phone number and a receipt from Big ‘Ole Burgers dated a
week ago. So he cased the place before, Jack thought. He took out his cell
phone and dialed the number. It kept ringing and no one picked up. It went to
voicemail and a male voice said, “You know what to do.” Jack rolled his eyes.
He never understood why people had those wise guy greetings on their voicemail.
When he returned to the office, he would get a trace on the number.
“Bathroom’s
all clear,” Lauren said.
“Let’s
close up here and talk to the neighbors.”
They
carried the computer down to the car and went back inside to talk to the
neighbors. The building had two floors with four rooms on each floor. Lauren
took the bottom floor. Jack went upstairs and started with the apartment
closest to the stairwell. There was no answer. No surprise there as it was the
four thirty in the afternoon and he expected most people to still be at work.
The next room was John’s so he knocked on the one adjacent to it. No answer.
He
tried the last door. A woman dressed in a long, pink ratty robe answered the
door. She had a box of tissues in her hand and a bad case of the cold.
“Sorry
to bother you ma’am. I’m Agent Rossi with the FBI. I just have a few questions
to ask you about John Cassidy,” he said as he flashed his badge.
She
looked at it and nodded. “This is about the shooting today isn’t it? It’s all
over the news. Terrible what happened.”
“May
I ask your name?”
“Felicia
Gonzales.”
“What
can you tell me about John?”
“I
don’t know much about him really. He was a quiet neighbor. Polite. I am still
shocked that he would do something like this.”
“Notice
anything ‘off’ about him lately?”
“I
don’t really see him much. I can’t say I noticed anything.”
“What
about visitors? Any friends or family that came to see him?”
“He
had a friend that used to come around on and off.”
“Do
you know his name?”
“I
think I heard John call him, ‘Greg’. I don’t know his last name. We were never
introduced. He’s about six feet, lanky, with black hair in a crew cut.”
“Anything
distinctive about him? Birthmarks, tattoos, scars?”
“I’m
not sure. I never really looked at him if you know what I mean.”
Jack
never ceased to be amazed at how little people paid attention to the things
happening around them. If it didn’t affect them directly, they didn’t care. “Do
you know if John was a member of any group?”
“What
do mean like a cult or something?”
“Any
kind of group.”
She
shook her head and sneezed into a tissue. Jack handed her his card.
“Thank
you. If you think of anything else, call me.”
Jack
turned and went downstairs. Lauren had just finished talking with one of the
neighbors and walked towards him.
“Nothing.
You?” she said.
“Zilch.
Let’s get out of here.”
***
Lauren
glanced at Jack as he drove them back to the office. The vein in Jack’s temple
was working overtime. “Slow down. The office isn’t running away. Since when are
you in such a hurry to go do some paperwork?”
Jack
ignored her and continued to speed along. Lauren knew better than to argue when
Jack was this wound up. He reached down to pick up his ringing cell phone. “Yeah,”
he barked.
Lauren
felt sorry for whoever was on the other end of the line.
“Oh,
it’s not you. Rough day … you know I can’t talk about stuff I’m working on …
Yeah, we’re still on for tonight. I’ll pick you up at around eight.” Jack hung
up the phone.
“Your
date for Georgina’s party tonight?” Lauren asked, fighting to keep the jealousy
out of her voice. She hoped she came off as light and nonchalant. The last
thing she needed was for Jack to realize the effect he had on her.
“Uh-huh,
that was Stacey. Are you still going?” he asked.
“Yes.
I wouldn’t miss it. Georgina’s been planning this anniversary bash for months.
You know how your sister gets. Besides, it took me forever to find the perfect
gift for her and Tim.”
“I
never thought I would say this, especially after the fiasco with the
prescription drug abuse, but he has really been good for Georgie. She has never
been happier. I respect the way he manned up and changed his ways—not that I
would ever take my eye off of him.” Jack paused for a few moments. “Are you
bringing anybody?”
She
could have sworn she saw him hold his breath. “No.” Lauren closed her eyes and
leaned back against the headrest. She was not looking forward to tonight.
Despite all the time she spent hanging around Georgina, she had not picked up
any of her social skills. She sucked at small talk and hated to feign interest
in people’s lives. Her stomach churned as she thought about how she was going
to have to watch Jack and Stacey together all night.
Jack
pulled into the parking lot. They got out and went inside to the office. Lauren
hurried to the break room to heat up the leftover tuna casserole she brought
from the dinner she had with Mrs. De Luca last night. She hadn’t eaten all day
and was starving. Wolfing down the meal, she thought about all the people who
had their last meal at Big ‘Ole Burger today. It was so tragic. And unnecessary.
She
went over to the audio-visual room where Jack was waiting to watch this morning’s
surveillance video. There was a large television screen to the front of the
room and about ten desk-chairs, the kind with a small writing surface attached
to the chair. She sat down and Jack pressed play.
The
security footage started off with a typical scene at a fast food restaurant.
The place was crowded—there were mothers trying to get their children to stay
still and stop playing with their food, businessmen reading the paper while
chowing down on their burgers, and long lines at the cashier. Then according to
the time stamp at the bottom right hand corner of the screen, at 12.05 p.m John
Cassidy walked in. He looked like an ordinary customer in his well-worn blue
jeans and green T-shirt. His body language gave no indication of the carnage he
was going to cause. He walked up to the security guard who stood a few feet
away from the front door. He pulled out a gun from the waistband of his pants
and shot him in between the eyes.
The
whole place exploded into chaos. People were screaming and rushing to run out
of the restaurant. A young boy got trampled over as patrons pushed and jostled
with each other in a mad dash to get away. Cassidy spun on his heels and started
firing. One by one, he picked out his victims and shot to kill. His face held
no emotion—it was if he were merely pointing out items in a showroom. I’ll take that and that and that and that.
On the floor, the bodies of his victims lay bleeding forming red pools on the
white tile. In the background, underneath the cries of terror and the sharp
gunshots, a popular dance tune was playing softly. Lauren guessed it was a tune
from the radio which fast food restaurants often had playing in the background.
John
paused to reload his gun. A man peeked out from a cubicle behind him. A few
seconds later, he sped off and rammed into John using the full force of his
bodyweight. John stumbled and the man tried to wrestle the gun away from him.
John gave him a head butt and the man released John’s hand briefly. John
stepped back and wasted no time. He shot the man in the shoulder. When he fell
back exposing his chest, John took aim for his heart. Lauren cringed as she saw
the blood geyser out. John took one last look at the man and resumed his
shooting spree.
The shrill sound of sirens could now be heard
in the background. John quickly fired the rest of his bullets. When he had
emptied his clip, he dropped the gun to the ground, put his hands behind his
head and dropped to his knees. Police officers rushed in from the front and
side doors. John put up no resistance as he was handcuffed and escorted out of
the restaurant. The timestamp on the bottom of the screen read 12.19 p.m.
The
captain’s words echoed in Lauren’s brain. Twenty dead and fifteen injured - all
in a space of fourteen minutes. She took a deep breath and massaged her temple.
“Sick
bastard,” Jack said. His mouth had formed into a thin line and he was shaking
his head angrily.
Lauren
was horrified by what she had just seen. Her heart ached for the victims on the
tape, especially the brave soul who had tried to put an end to it. Why did John
massacre all those people? He must have had a compelling reason even if it only
made sense to him. A horrible thought flashed through her mind. Could it be—?
Is it possible that—? Was it time? They had said that when they made their move
it would be something big and unexpected. This certainly fit the bill. If they
were really responsible, what happened today would be just the beginning. A
cold chill rocketed up Lauren’s body. She ran her hands over her arms which had
gotten goose bumps.
“Are
you okay?” Jack asked.
“Yes, I’m fine. Seeing what happened
just got to me, that’s all. “ Lauren got up and walked out the room. She
refused to explore the possibility that the time had come. She just wasn’t
ready to face it; she didn’t know if she would ever be.
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