A Dream – Sophie Marceau Mystery -Friday Fiction With Ronavan Writes -3 June 2016

This is my fifth installment of a new Sophie Marceau mystery with Ronovan Writes and the Friday Fiction prompt. Basically Ronovan gives us a one word clue to utilize in building a story. I decided to give my established character, Detective Sophie Marceau, a new series within this weekly challenge. I invite you to check for previous chapters in the links that follow this week’s story. This chapter follows the theme of: A Dream

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Tom yanked a white handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it against the flow of red from the suspect’s head, strengthening his grip as the fellow seemed to falter. Sophie pushed from behind as they closed ranks to enter the throng of reporters that were now recovering from the shock of the moment. Cameras clicked as they documented the scene of fresh violence and the crimson trail escaping the limited reach of Tom’s small cloth.

Sophie saw a smug look of accomplishment on Mayor Crawley’s face where he stood some twenty feet from them now. With a re-election vote less than ten days distant she was sure he would add this to his ever growing list of positive events during his tenure. She was amazed how politicians could manage to take the most benign measures of success and tailor them to fit their personal agendas. This man was no different, willing to claim any positive and deflect all negative criticisms.

In contrast she was encouraged to see her Captain’s usual dour expression at least shifted to a neutral one. He rarely looked overtly happy, but if the Crimson Nights case was settled it would be one less agitator in his life. For this crowd the wounded man embodied the gruesome purveyor of horrific acts. Having him in the open one more second than absolutely necessary would expose him to more of the brutality they had just experienced. She continued to gently nudge him forward faster, seeing another hundred yards to the safety of the front door.

“Great job detectives. You deserve a raise!” the mayor shouted over the boisterous crowd as they passed near to his position.

Sophie found herself remembering a very similar dream from three nights earlier. It seemed out of place at that moment, but now as she looked around so much was familiar. She blinked several times to give herself the chance to get back in this moment. Sophie struggled to keep her expression passive, wanting to shoot back a comment, but knowing it would be lost in the sea of confusion and excitement. This politician seemed to eschew the idea that all are innocent until proven guilty, but then innocence meant the case would not be closed and his achievement would be lost. Would that alone be the difference in his bid to claim another five years leading the city? She had no interest in the politics, because no matter who held the chair laws would be broken. She had little to fear as far as job security in this city, of that she was sure.

In the sanctuary of the precinct she finally let herself breathe again. Two uniformed officers took the suspect from her and Tom, rubber gloves in place to shield them as they tended to the wound. It was something they had not even considered in the heat of the moment. But then who had time when the potential for further violence loomed so large?

“Do you still have a change of clothes in your locker?” Cammie O’Neal asked. She was the Public Information Officer for the department, over from the Commissioner’s office.

“No,” Tom replied. Sophie nodded her negative response, drawing a frown from the middle aged, brown haired woman.

“You have thirty minutes before the press conference. You think you can make something happen?”

“Press conference?” Sophie questioned.

“Yes! “You caught the Crimson Nights serial killer! CNN, Fox News and the major networks are on their way. This is a big deal!”

“We don’t even know . . .” Sophie began before Cammie cut her off.

“I need you to do . . . something,” she said nodding at their appearance before answering her ringing cell phone. Tom grimaced at Sophie as they watched Cammie walk away as she continued to coordinate the incoming media horde.

“I’ll be back,” Tom said grabbing the keys to his car as he jogged toward the employee entrance in the rear.

Sophie plopped in her chair and rubbed the bridge of her nose as she repeated the thought Cammie had short-circuited.

“We don’t even know for sure if he is the Crimson Nights killer!”

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Chapter 1                           Chapter 2                             Chapter 3

Chapter 4

 

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Caught – Sophie Marceau Mystery for Ronovan Writes Friday Fiction – 20 May 2016

This is my third turn with Ronovan Writes and the Friday Fiction prompt. Basically Ronovan gives us a one word clue to utilize in building a story. Perhaps I am taking the easy way out, but I decided to give my established character, Detective Sophie Marceau a new series within this weekly challenge. I invite you to check for previous chapters in the links that follow this week’s story. This chapter follows the theme of: Caught

ronovan

Tom turned his head quickly to look at Sophie who never offered a compliment easily, especially to someone she barely knew. But here they were surveying the scene of a crime where a stockbroker was murdered outside the gates of a horse track and the unlikely had just happened before his eyes.

Sophie caught his gaze and quickly communicated through her crystal-like emerald eyes for him to cool it. He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and saw her expression ease in response. Sophie had her eyes fixed now on the newcomer and gave Penelope Crenshaw, the medical examiner a quick nod to give her some time with the young woman. Penelope slid her arm through Tom’s to lead him away as Sophie began to speak to Casey Ritter, the new addition to Penelope’s team.

“What do you see unique about this?” Sophie asked. She listened as the early-twenties something young woman began to analyze her recent find. She was impressively methodical as she established parameters to isolate the type of material, weave, color family and more possible identifying qualities. The girl seemed not to be baffled at all about what she saw, even withdrawing a magnifying glass from a nearby satchel to squint at a particular oddity.

This is familiar,” she said looking up and toward nothing particular as she allowed her mind to sift through the memories to isolate why she recognized something on the scrap.

Sophie waited patiently, enjoying the process through the young woman and her meticulous nature.

“There!” Casey said pointing in the distance. Sophie spun one hundred eighty degrees to look down a long pathway toward the stables where the live stock was contained. Casey took off half-jogging down the lane with Sophie trailing behind a few seconds. Both were somewhat winded when they stopped a quarter of a mile later to see an array of racing team logos on banners over their horse’s stalls.

Casey’s face was screwed in thought as she looked between a trio of logos, trying to decipher what her trained brain had signaled about the scrap of cloth. Sophie was glad it was just them standing here, because Tom’s process was to pester you with questions that actually inhibited your thought process instead of moving it forward. She could see a similarity in Casey to her own processes. She watched the girl’s eyes, seeing her mentally eliminate on e of the three options. She could identify the change because Casey now gravitated only between two logos, a multi-lined graphic of a racing horse and another with a rose wreath around a black horse image.

Casey dropped her head, staring at the evidence bag which held the scrap of paper she had secured before and then she studied the logos again. Once, twice, three times she did this. Then her eys narrowed on the scrap before she quickly fixed on the first logo. Sophie could feel the hair on her arms bristle as Casey’s smile grew.

The young woman snapped her head toward the stall for Grumman’s Racing and made a bee-line for a group of men huddled nearby. As she approached the five employees looked at her questioningly and then when she had covered another ten feet of ground one of them broke free and took off in a sprint.

“Tom!” Sophie shouted as she gave chase. She could see the guy running, but felt like she had little hope of keeping pace. Just before he cleared a corner of the barn area to make a dash for the parking lot a blur from the left tackled him to the ground. When Sophie drew even she stifled a laugh as she watched Casey twist one of the man’s arms behind his back. With her other arm she pulled his jacket up to show a section that was torn just below the team logo. She allowed Sophie to help her hand cuff the fellow, stand him up and then she pulled the evidence bag from her pocket and compared the sample to his jacket.

“It’s a match!” Sophie said.

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Chapter 1 – A Guest Appearance

Chapter 2- A First Time