Sweat (Blogophilia 30.7)

Sweat poured down Jeremy’s face as he waited for the light. That was too close. This was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance trip to make sure the complex would work. Not in his wildest dreams did he think he was going to run into that bastard. And damned if it wasn’t the exact scenario he was thinking of, a body next to a car with the Fuzz all around. The only thing missing was the bomb.  

The light changed and he gingerly made the left hand turn, looking in the rear view to see if any cops had followed him out of the complex.  Satisfied they hadn’t, he picked up speed down the entrance ramp. A tractor trailer truck blew at him for drifting into his lane.  

He picked up an old tissue of the console and wiped his receding hairline. It really was to close. Murray really hadn’t changed much, a little heavier and more lines on his snout. But the beady little eyes were still there, the ones that locked into him for that brief second.  Did he recognize him? He couldn’t be sure. It did look like some kind of light went on, though. Just like with Sarah, there always was something keeping him from his goal. His face began to warm with rage. 

Focus. He needed to come back to focus.  He kept to the right hand lane and exited on to I-285 toward 3 Sheets and cold scotch. And if Murray actually remembered, the bar was two counties away.  Benny will give him his drink and leave him alone to sort this new wrinkle.

Jeremy knew that every caterpillar had to struggle to change in to a butterfly. So, he’ll struggle and change the plan a bit. 

Jeremy didn’t get a good look at the victim; he had just gotten there when the first patrol cars pulled in. All he could see was the lump on the sidewalk, just beyond the old Buick. Watching the proceedings from inside the car, he noticed one officer was talking to a small Asian man making animated gestures. Jeremy guessed he had found the body.  He was one that talked with his hands. Up, down, right and left the small brown hands went.  A lit cigarette was dangling out of his mouth.  He reminded him of an old street thug from a black and white movie.  “It wasn’t me, Officer.” Yeah, right. 

Jeremy began taking notes.

The other uniformed guy started rolling out the scene tape, just like they do on T.V.  Stepping out a few paces he secured one end on a No Parking sign, and the traced around until he had an area about forty feet across inside the perimeter.  After that was finished, he came up to his partner and was then directed to another group of people gathered near the front of Jeremy’s car.  One by one, the crowd indicated they didn’t know anything about the body. A few of them walked away without speaking at all.  

More patrol cars arrived. A Sergeant with a large sleeve tattoo began to supervise the proceedings. He took over the interview with the Asian and sent the patrol officer to look around the car. The stage was being set. More information than Jeremy could have ever hoped for.  

And then he looked up and saw Murray and his stomach turned to knots. He was on the other side of the Sergeant chatting when his eyes caught the car. He wished the car had shades pulled down low. How long had it been, really? Ten years? It didn’t matter, he left hoping they were too busy to notice.  

So where was Jackson?  He didn’t see him there.  That doesn’t matter, though. Even if they aren’t working together, getting Murray will be enough.  

Pulling off the Roswell Rd exit, he began to smile. The pain’s coming and everything will be alright.  








Topic-Joleene Naylor

Pic-Nina Nixon

Pic Guesses: Dog and Butterfly, Former ugly ducklings, Fly away, Metamorphosis, Swan Song,