Honestly, it can get convoluted. Some… I just don’t know. Planning Vengeance/Dig Two Graves just sort of happened. I had a plan, and it was COMPLETELY different than the story that emerged. You might think it is crazy, but the characters moved me to tell a story (which also spilled into Who, What, When, Why?) and I was along for the ride. I used to joke that I had to write fast because I wanted to know how it would turn out.

You Don’t Know Jack was a little different. I had the basis of the idea. I just had to figure out how Jack got into trouble… at the genesis of the idea, he was already in a bad place. And the end of the book… was actually in another book. But I felt it fit more with the theme of YDKJ.

Lies and Omissions was a little different. I was still “pantsing”… writing by the seat of my pants… but I had a scene that I really wanted to write. The first thing I wrote for that book was the chapter The Heather Trap. The rest of the book flowed from that chapter, although not the way I expected. I had another villain, but I just couldn’t get mad at her. The funny thing with that one, though, is that bits and pieces of a lot of the characters are people I know. They have been sliced and diced and hidden, but some friends will recognize episodes from the story.

Other stories have beginnings that are similar to that, but different. One of the ones I am working on right now, tentatively called At Arm’s Length (a title I actually like) started with someone I used to know. Everything that makes the story happen is an outlandish “what if…” but it started with that one person. Other stories have that same kernel of reality. In some cases, the kernel is smaller, others are bigger.

Most of the books, though, have a scene that resembles reality. The conversations between my father and me before he died were the basis for those between Nick Tower and his father in Lies and Omissions. They were really hard to write, even twenty-four years removed from his passing. Some of the events in volving Ed Dixon in Unknown Caller are rooted (loosely) on my grandfather and his battle with Alzheimer’s Disease and the people that were able to sooth him.

I have been lucky to know a lot of interesting and cool people, and to have vivid memories of many of them. Some of the stories, both things from novels and short stories I have on places like Vocal, are like the highlights reel from those folks… but obscured and run through a filter. Some of those highlights are embarrassing… or could be… so I try to obscure the party to whom damage might occur.

In other instances, there are allusions to things which are not real. The one that springs to mind is that a friend, upon beta reading Lies and Omissions, commented that she didn’t know I had that type of relationship with another character from the book… yes, she easily recognized a character that wasn’t her (and she REALLY recognized the part of a character that was her). I hadn’t really known the person in question all that well. But it was easy to infer I might have known her more than they thought.

So, the easy answer is that they come from memories twisted out of context, expanded until they are unrecognizable, and then filtered to remove the reality. Mostly.

The Sheriff kept his hand resting on the butt of his pistol, menacingly, as he glared at Melody.  He had close to a foot in height on her, and an easy hundred pounds.  He kept staring, a smirk on his lips. 

“Sheriff, you don’t want to mess with her.  She’ll drop you to the ground and cuff you with your own cuffs before you even think to call for backup,” Gunny said, still smiling at the baby.

The Sheriff snorted… the glare never leaving his face as he stared down the slender woman.

Melody stared right back up at him.  There was fire in her dark eyes.  Her normally pale skin was red with fury.  She was not one that would be intimidated.  Gunny, standing off to the side, continued to entertain the baby.  Off to Melody’s sides, Ric and Bobby, both in tactical gear again, were standing with their rifles less than casually slung over their shoulders.  They would back Melody if it came to that. 

“I’m gonna take that woman in and book her for attempted murder.  Now, you best get out my way before I come up with half a dozen things to charge you with.  I let you play your little game, out of respect for Wallace Boudry’s parents, but that is over now.”

The Sheriff tried to push past Melody, but she grabbed his gun hand and folded his wrist down and then twisted his arm behind his back.  In her next smooth move, she bumped the back of his knees, driving him to the ground on his stomach.  She swept his cuffs from his belt and cuffed him as he fumed and flailed. 

“Let me tell you how this is going to go, Sheriff,” Melody said, her sneer coming through her voice loud and clear, “you’re NOT going to charge Lisa Clay Boudry with anything.”

The Sheriff struggled and started to talk.

“Shut up and let me finish,” she replied.  “In fact, she is going to get on our plane and fly away to God knows where.  In the meantime, you can choose to explain what happened to Wallace’s parents.  Wallace has been beating that young woman for months.  She has been admitted to the hospital at least three times for… accidents… that you were supposed to investigate.  And a couple of days ago, Wallace came out here with his hunting rifle, to either kill or seriously injure her.”

“That’s not true,” the Sheriff said, still struggling in his cuffs, ”he was just gonna scare her.”

“So, you knew that a serial abuser was coming out here to illegally use a firearm to commit a crime and you did nothing?” 

“I…”

“In a minute, I’m going to let you out of your cuffs.  You’re going to answer your phone, then you are going to plop your happy ass in your cruiser and drive away.  We are going to collect our medic from the hospital, where I’m told Wallace is in serious but stable condition and expected to recover, and we are going to drive to the airport and fly away. 

“If you choose to charge her, an army of blood sucking ghouls, our lawyers, will descend on this town.  By the time they leave, you… the former Sheriff… will be able to drive by the Lisa Clay Law Enforcement and Public Safety facility in the town square.  Now, Sheriff, do YOU understand how it’s going to work?” Melody finished. 

She looked over to Bobby, he nodded back, tightening his grip on his rifle.  Melody unsnapped the cuffs from the Sheriff’s wrists, still pinning him down on the ground.  As she held him there, his phone rang. 

Melody let go of him and stood up.  The Sheriff dusted himself off and reached into his pocket for his phone.  He answered it and held it up to his ear.  After saying his name, he just looked around as the voice at the other end talked. 

The Sheriff straightened his uniform and Melody handed him back his cuffs and his key.  He walked back toward his car. 

“You haven’t heard the last of me, Melody Grafton,” he said, as ominously as he could manage.

“Yeah… I have.  You don’t want to take me on.  You aren’t man enough,” Melody shot back. 

She turned and walked over to Lisa. 

“Lisa, you need to come with us.  We’re going to drop you off with a friend.  She’ll get you and your daughter on a new path, ok?”

“I can’t pay you…”

“Dropping that blowhard was enough for me,” Melody replied, smiling. 

“What if he comes after me?”

“You’ll be in a new place with a new name and a new life before long.  He won’t find you unless you go looking for him.  Don’t do that,” Melody said, giving her a hug. 

Gunny, Melody, Lisa and her baby loaded up in one of the Suburbans, while Bobby and Ric loaded into the other.  They headed into town, to the hospital to pick up Patrick, then out to the regional airport to drop off the rentals and fly out.

Three hours later, Lisa and her baby were in a shelter in Atlanta, Melody sitting next to them, Gunny standing nearby.  Instead of tactical gear, he wore a simple pair of jeans and a polo shirt. 

“Hi, Lisa.  Welcome to Maria’s House.  My name is Anna Weber.  You’re safe here.”  She turned to Gunny and Melody, “I’m so glad to see you again,” she said, hugging each of them. 

Melody hugged Lisa, then the baby.  The baby reached for Gunny, wanting him to hold her again.  He took the baby and made a few funny sounds before handing her back to her smiling mother. 

“He’s kind of like a Grizzly Teddy Bear,” Melody said to Lisa with a laugh.  “I trust Anna and you should too.  And if you ask her to call me, day or night, she will.  Ok?”

“Melody, I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Have a wonderful life.  Raise that baby.  If you get yourself in a position to help someone else, do it. “

Melody leaned over and hugged her again.  The baby giggled and waved at Gunny as he backed toward the door, laughing and making faces back at the baby.  

As she got within a couple yards of the front steps, she stopped.  She could see the blinds move a little.  She held her arms out to her sides and slowly turned all the way around.  Her snug fitting jeans and tucked in black t-shirt making her disarmament obvious. 

“I’m not armed, Lisa,” she said loudly enough for the woman inside to hear.  “I’d like to come in and talk with you.”

“Go away!” came the shout from inside. 

“I can’t do that Lisa.  I want to help you… and to do that, I need to talk with you.  Better me than the police”

“Why’zat?” the woman shouted. 

“They are looking to find crimes, Lisa.  I’m looking to prevent them.  Why don’t you let me in.  I’m not here to hurt you.”

The front door cracked open.  Seeing the dark sliver of the inside, Melody slowly walked up the steps and through the front door, holding her hands a little above her waist, keeping them in sight of the woman waiting behind the door.  It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.  As she waited, the situation slowly came into focus. 

“Hi Lisa.  My name is Melody.  I want to help you.  Will you let me do that?” she said, finally able to see the other woman. 

“How exactly can you help me?”

“I don’t know yet.  That’s why I wanted to talk with you.  How would you like me to help you?” Melody asked. 

As she looked around, she could see the woman standing in the kitchen doorway with a hunting rifle.  Deeper in the kitchen was a toddler in a highchair scribbling in an activity book for a child that was much older.  To Melody’s right, in the living room, a beaten and bloodied man was tied to a kitchen chair. 

“I just want everyone to go away,” Lisa said, anguish in her voice. 

“I wish I could, Lisa, but I can’t do that.  Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

Lisa was leaning against the doorway, her fatigue evident.  She kept taking her hand off the rifle to wipe her eyes. 

“He was beatin’ me and beatin’ my baby, so I left him.  The bastard came back ta get my baby, and I told him ta go ta hell,” Lisa said.  “I didn’t mean for all this.  I just don’t want him beatin’ my baby.”

“I understand.  But Lisa… it looks like Wallace is hurt pretty bad.  Can we let a medic look at him?”

“I don’t think I can do that, Melody,” Lisa said, sniffling. 

“Lisa, I really want to help you.  And I will.  But if Wallace dies, your little baby won’t have any parents.  He’ll be dead, and you’ll be in jail.  I can try to protect you and see if there is a way to work this out… but if he’s dead, my hands will be tied.  You understand?”

Lisa stared at her for a minute. 

“Why are you here, Melody?”

“I told you… to help you.”

“Who hired you… you said you weren’t a cop.”

“Nobody is paying me, Lisa,” Melody said calmly.  “Wallace’s parents called a friend of mine yesterday when he didn’t come home.  They were worried.  I came to get him… but now that I know about your baby, keeping her safe is the most important thing for me.  More important than Wallace or you, do you understand me, Lisa?”

“Why… why is my baby important?”

“I help people… people that are in trouble.  Especially kids.  Please let me help you and your baby.  Let me get a medic to help Wallace.”

She reluctantly nodded.  Melody slowly backed to the door.  She turned and opened it.  She motioned for Patrick to come to the door.  He already knew from listening to Melody’s comm unit, so he’d stripped off his body armor and weapons. 

With just a small medic kit he walked over to the steps and came up to the door. 

“Hi Lisa.  My name is Patrick and I’m here to help Wallace, ok?  Can I come it to look at him?”

“You have a gun?” Lisa asked. 

“No, but I have a pocketknife in case I have to cut his clothes, see?” he said, holding it in his hand. 

She nodded and Patrick walked inside.  He moved toward Wallace as his eyes adjusted, then gently cut the bonds holding the man to the chair.  He pulled him from the chair and laid him on the dirty floor of the trailer.  He cut away his shirt to look at the gunshot wound in Wallace’s chest. 

“One, his pulse is weak and thready.  He’s lost a lot of blood.  I can slow it down, but he’s gonna need emergency transport and IV fluids,” Patrick said into his radio. 

“Lisa,” Melody said, “it doesn’t look good for Wallace.  We need to get him in an ambulance and to a hospital.  Patrick is talking to our people outside.  Can we take him out there so that we can get him to a hospital?  I’ll stay with you as a hostage if you want.”

Lisa was looking around… at her baby, at her husband, at Melody, then back again. 

“I didn’t want ta kill anyone,” she said after a few minutes.  “Don’t let him die.”

Lisa collapsed to the floor, sobbing into her hands, the rifle clattering to the kitchen floor. 

“Gunny, get a stretcher up here to help Patrick get Wallace out.  No guns,” Melody said into her comms. 

Ric and Bobby came around the shed a moment later, their tactical gear stripped off.  Ric was carrying the stretcher and was first to the door.  He ignored Lisa and the gun and turned toward Patrick and the man he was on the floor with.  Bobby slid around near the unconscious man’s head, while Ric was at his feet.  They slid him over onto the stretcher and gently carried him outside. 

As Melody held Lisa, who was crying uncontrollably, an ambulance pulled up without its siren on.  A moment later, again with no siren, it quickly pulled away. 

“Lisa, why don’t you tell me what happened?” Melody said as she walked over to where the other woman was leaned against the wall. 

She slid the gun away from her and sat down next to her.  Lisa started pouring out everything that had happened to get her to where she was.  They spent a few minutes talking back and forth, Melody asking questions, Lisa answering. 

“Is Wallace gonna die?  Did I kill him?” Lisa said through her tears.

“Lisa, Patrick is the best.  He’s with Wallace and I’ll know everything that happens, ok?  Can we go outside now?” Melody said calmly. 

“Are you gonna arrest me now?” Lisa asked. 

“I told you, I’m not the police.  Do you want to carry your baby out, or me?”

“I’ll carry her,” Lisa said, sniffling again. 

The woman walked over and gently picked her baby girl up from the highchair.  She hugged her tight as she carried her outside, walking behind Melody.  Lisa looked around when she got outside, wondering where the police cars were.  When she didn’t see any, she gave Melody a confused look. 

“Lisa,” Melody said softly as she approached the woman again, “I need to get a look at you… to confirm what you said inside.  Can my husband hold your baby?” She pointed to the big man with the bushy red beard. 

“I… I guess,” Lisa replied, unease in her voice.

“Lisa, we’re not going to take your little girl away.  His name is Will, but everyone calls him Gunny.  He’ll keep your baby safe.  Trust me.”

Lisa handed her baby over to Gunny.  He started bouncing the little girl and had her laughing and squealing before Lisa and Melody could walk away.  Melody led Lisa around to the side of the shed, away from the guys on the team and asked her to lift her shirt.  Lisa complied, showing her to scrapes, scars and bruises she had all over. 

As they came back around the Sheriff’s car came rolling up to the fence around the mobile home’s yard.  The Sheriff stepped from his car, a tall man made even taller by the Stetson he set on top of his head as he cleared the car.  He rested his hand on his sidearm and made his way toward Gunny, who was bouncing the baby. 

“Very funny, Big Guy,” the girl said as she stretched.  Over the next few minutes, the rest of the students joined them outside the gym, ready for their run.  “Sergeant Grafton here thinks he might be faster than us,” Tisha informed the group.  She was giving him a little good-natured ribbing.  “How old are you, like forty-five?”

“Fifty-seven, actually.  And I didn’t say I would be faster… I just thought you guys would knock out five miles in thirty or thirty-five minutes,” Gunny told the kids. 

“Then let’s get started old man,” Jaden said as he turned to start running. 

Aside from Tisha, the teenagers all took off, leaving Gunny in their dust.  Gunny slung on the pack that had been at his feet, and quickly caught Tisha and followed the rest of the runners off school grounds, and into the neighborhood. 

After about twenty minutes of running, they were more than halfway through the route.  He and Tisha had caught all the kids except Jaden, who was still a hundred yards ahead.  They rounded the corner of a block, bringing him back into view.  Gunny watched as someone stepped in front of the youngster and barred his path, grabbing at him.  He picked up his pace and caught up with the youth a moment later. 

“Do we have a problem, here?” Gunny asked the man as he grabbed the other man’s hand. 

“I don’t have a problem, Bitch, but you will if you don’t move along,” he replied. 

“You really need to watch your language, as well as take your hand off this young man, or we will have a problem,” the large, former Marine said forcefully.

The man reached for his pocket with his loose hand, Gunny still holding a grip on the wrist of the hand he’d grabbed Jaden with.  Gunny looked down and saw him pulling a gun from his pocket.  As he squeezed the man’s left wrist, hard, he reached for his right hand… the one going for the gun.  Before the gun was completely free of the pocket, Gunny had twisted the man’s hand backward and thumbed the safety back on.  The sound of his wrist breaking was clearly heard by all the students. 

“You REALLY shouldn’t play with guns if you aren’t going to learn how to use them,” Gunny said as he twisted the gun from the man’s hand… he was no longer able to keep grip on the pistol with his broken wrist.  He let go of Jaden with the other hand and started crying out in pain. 

Without letting go of the man’s left hand, he smashed his elbow into his face, breaking his nose, which everyone also all heard. 

“You are a dead motherfucker…” he said before Gunny cut him off.

“I thought I told you to watch your language, you little punk.  And this was your only warning.  Next time I have a problem with you, I won’t be gentle.  And you better get your nose and your wrist looked at…”  Then he reached around into his pocket and pulled out the man’s driver’s license.  He noted the name and address from it and handed it back to him.  “I know who you are, Darnell Williams, and I know where you live.  You don’t want me to have to visit you.  Understand?”

The students were all shocked by the actions of their substitute teacher.  In class, despite his size and menacing appearance, he had been all smiles and patience.  At six and a half feet tall, he towered over all but the tallest students, and with his broad shoulders and thick arms, he made even them look small in comparison.  While his emotions often hid behind his bushy, rust-colored beard… with a few streaks of gray… today they were plain to see.  Gunny was angry and they could see the flash in his eyes and his shaved head turning red, like a cartoon character. 

Then he leaned in close and quietly said into his ear, “I know that you’re really just a chickenshit bully.  If you weren’t, you’d be doing something real with your life.  You mess with ANY of these kids, I’ll find you.”  Then he pushed the punk away.  “Let’s finish the run,” he said to the teens. 

Ten minutes later they trotted up to the back gym door they had left forty minutes earlier.  Gunny slung off his pack and grabbed a bottle of water.  “Tell you what, that was a nice run,” he said.  “Maybe next time we won’t be interrupted.”

“Mr. Grafton,” Jaden said quietly, even though the other students could all hear him, “That guy is one of the biggest dealers in the hood.  He isn’t gonna let that dis’ slide, Sir.  You need to watch your back.”

After getting her car started, she cooked everyone breakfast, then went to wake up Elise.  They started eating as they waited for her mother to wake up.  Elise was pumped about going to the zoo.  Her mother had been promising it for a few weeks, and she was ready. 

At eleven there was a knock at the door. 

“Elise, honey, can you get that?” Ginger called out from the kitchen, suppressing a giggle.  She snuck over to the doorway so she could see when Elise opened the door. 

The little girl unlocked the door and swung it open.  When she saw who it was, she squealed.  She flung open the screen door and leapt into Rock’s arms.  Elise’s grandmother hurried out of the living room to see what the commotion was about.

“Mr. Rock!  Are you going to the zoo with Mommy and me?” Elise asked. 

“Do you want me to?” he replied as she squeezed his neck in a hug. 

“Yes.  Yippee,” she shouted excitedly.  “Mommy… Mr. Rock is going with us.”

“I know, honey.  I invited him last night.”

Cheryl stepped into the hallway behind her daughter.  She wore a disapproving look on her face like armor as she surveyed the man standing in front of her, holding her granddaughter.  Her first thought was that he looked like a ruffian.  Bald head, beard, black leather jacket, engineer boots.  She half expected there would be the name of a motorcycle gang on the back of the jacket. 

Ginger walked over and kissed the big man on the cheek as Elise slipped out of his arms and into hers.  She let Elise drop to the floor. 

“Mom, this is Rock.  We work together.  I invited him to the zoo today with us.  He’s the one that brought me home last night when my car wouldn’t start and made arrangements to have it towed home by a friend of his,” she said, trying to work the frown off her mother’s face. 

“Ma’am,” he nodded toward her, putting his hand out.  When he shook Cheryl’s hand, his dwarfed hers.  “My real name is Clarence Rockford Meyers… but everyone called me Rock when I started playing football in high school, and then in the Army.” 

“I’m pleased to meet you, Clarence.  My name is Cheryl,” she finally managed to say.  “So, you were in the Army?”

“Yes, Ma’am.  Airborne.”

Cheryl nodded.  “You guys be safe.  I can’t wait to see my little Elise,” she said, picking up her granddaughter to give her a hug. 

Rock caught the older woman’s eye.  “They are safe with me,” he said, his expression serious before he turned back to Elise and gave her his warmest smile. 

Cheryl grabbed her daughter’s arm as Elise followed Rock out the door, “Are you sure you’re ok with him?”

“Yes, Mother.  Rock is a very nice guy.”

“Have you two…”

“No, Mother.  He just walks me to my car after late shifts to make sure I’m safe, and he’s always really nice to me.”

“Ok… but you be sure to call me a lot.  And send some pictures so I don’t worry.”

Ginger rolled her eyes, but knew it was pointless to disagree with her. 

***

They were supposed to get back before dark, but it was a couple of hours later when Rock’s Mustang pulled into the driveway.  Cheryl peered out through the curtains as Rock hefted a sleeping Elise in his arms, and Ginger unloaded a pair of giant stuffed bears from the other side of the car.  She was giggling like a schoolgirl as she followed him up onto the porch.  Cheryl opened the door, holding it for them as they passed. 

“Follow me up to Elise’s room,” Ginger said.  “She is really out, isn’t she?” 

He followed her up the stairs as she dragged the two giant bears with her.  A moment later, he re-emerged, softly treading down the steps.  He walked into the living room where Cheryl was. 

“Sorry we were late.  Elise saw a carnival and wanted to stop.  When she saw the stuffed bears, she wanted one, so I tried to win it for her.  Then ginger wanted one, too,” he smiled. 

Cheryl couldn’t help but smile back at him.  Despite her still thinking he looked like a ruffian, he looked like a happy kid, too.  That morning when she’d seen him, she had thought he was in his thirties.  As she looked at him now, she thought he might be thirty… or a little younger. 

“Ginger said she needed to get Elise ready for bed,” he added. 

“Make yourself comfortable,” Cheryl said, “I’ll go give her a hand so she can head back down.”

A couple of moments later, Ginger walked into the room and plopped down next to Rock on the sofa.  “Do you want a beer or something?”

“Water would be good, if it’s no trouble.” 

She hopped back off the sofa and quickly grabbed a couple of bottles of water from the fridge, still smiling about the day. 

“Thanks for inviting me, Ginger.  I had a blast.  I loved hanging out with you and Elise.”

“I had the best time… ever… and I’m pretty sure Elise did, too.  We should do it again,” she said, hopefully. 

“Are you asking me out?” Rock said, jokingly.

“Is that what’s it’s going to take?” Ginger replied.  Her expression belied her seriousness.  “If this had been a date, Rock, it would have been the best date I had ever been on… and the fact that my daughter loves you…  If I have to ask you on a date, I can do that.  Can I take you to dinner?”

“Wow.  I don’t know what to say.”  He looked back at her seriously.

“I get it,” she interrupted.  “Dating a woman with a child is a lot different.  We can still be friends, though.”  Ginger looked down and pulled her hand back from his leg where it had been sitting after she turned toward him.

“Ginger,” he said, his hand slipping under her chin as he turned her face back toward his, “I would be delighted to go to dinner with you.  Sorry… I’m not very good at all this.  I’ve wanted to ask you out since the first time we worked together.  I was pretty sure you’d shoot me down, though.  I always thought a guy like Greg was your type.”