Pro Se Presents: December 2012

By Nancy A. Hansen

Pro Se Press Puts The Monthly Back In Pulp One Last Time in 2012 with a double shot from Fantasy Maven Nancy A. Hansen in Pro Se Presents 16!
First, Kate Keener is hired to help a troubled couple find their daughter and discovers that the answers she seeks are leading to more disturbing questions in THE KEENER EYE: OUR CROSSES TO BEAR!
Also, Lori lives a secret life. She hunts and kills immortals, including vampires. She's rescued one night by a mysterious stranger who appears to share her mission. But Lori has other secrets she's been keeping in the second installment of THE SONG OF HEROES entitled DARK EYES OF NIGHT!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pro Se Press
• Release date: Jan 9, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301686278

Book preview

PRO SE PRESENTS

NEW AUTHORS - NEW VISIONS - NEW PULP FICTION FOR A NEW GENERATION

DECEMBER 2012

Copyright © 2012, Pro Se Productions

Published by Pro Se Press at Smashwords

The stories in this publication are fictional. All of the characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing of the publisher.

Edited by- Don Thomas, Frank Schildiner, and Lee Houston, Jr.

Editor in Chief, Pro Se Productions-Tommy Hancock

Submissions Editor-Barry Reese

Publisher & Pro Se Productions, LLC-Chief Executive Officer-Fuller Bumpers

Pro Se Productions, LLC

133 1/2 Broad Street

Batesville, AR, 72501

870-834-4022

[e-mail]

www.prosepulp.com

Our Crosses to Bear and Dark Eyes of Night copyright © 2012 Nancy A. Hansen

Cover and Interior Art, Book Design, Layout, and additional graphics by Sean E. Ali

E-book design and layout by Russ Anderson

TABLE OF CONTENTS

OUR CROSSES TO BEAR

by Nancy A. Hansen

DARK EYES OF NIGHT

by Nancy A. Hansen

The Keener Eye

OUR CROSSES TO BEAR

By Nancy A. Hansen

Why did you come to me instead of going back to the state police about this? Kate asked the man sitting before her. She paced back and forth behind her desk while reading through the material he had handed her. First thing Monday morning and I already have a new case.

"Because I want results, Ms. Keener, he said firmly. The local and state police had their chance, and they bungled it right from the beginning. They immediately listed her as a runaway even though I insisted she was kidnapped or coerced away. Either way, I want my daughter found, and every day that goes by, the trail is getting colder."

That things weren’t being done in a timely fashion was a common complaint these days, especially when the state was in the midst of cutbacks. It had brought in quite a lot of business lately.

After putting down the file folder full of clippings and letters she had been perusing, Kate Keener scooted herself up and sat on the edge of her desk, crossing legs encased in brand new denim leggings beneath a burgundy colored tunic length sweater. She passed over a box of tissues. The short, stout, weeping woman sitting in the chair next to the man accepted them gratefully, and blew her nose.

Dex Brewster, who always made incredible coffee, brought both the woman and her husband a fresh mug, and set them on the tray table where the spoons, half & half, and sugar bowl had been laid out just moments before. He pushed over a small plastic wastebasket lined with a grocery bag, and looked at Kate to see if she wanted coffee too. It was still midmorning, so she nodded yes.

"Generally speaking, the state police made the right assumption. Most missing kids are runaways. If it was a kidnapping for ransom, you would have heard from the abductors by now. So tell me, Kate said, with arms crossed on her chest and deep brown eyes sympathetic but focused, why do you believe your daughter didn’t just up and leave on her own?"

The grieving father looked up with a scowl, his hard chiseled features even more pronounced with the way he was grinding his teeth. He was obviously taking it as a personal insult.

Look—my daughter had past substance abuse issues; neither of us has ever denied that! But she was clean. Otherwise she would have never wound up in that wilderness camp in the first place! He gestured wildly, and nearly hit his wife by accident. We had nothing but reports praising her dedication to staying sober. She was counseling new members, and talking about college again. Why would she take off now?

I can’t answer that without knowing more about her, Kate said in a frank tone, brushing a stray lock of short cut brunette hair from her face. But couldn’t she have been abstinent and still depressed and confused? That’s not uncommon after achieving sobriety.

F-Folami… s-seemed h-happy again, the mother said in a shaky, stuffy voice. All the l-letters we got from her sounded s-so upbeat! She was c-coming home s-soon and we were in the p-process of getting her t-transcripts together. She w-wanted to enroll in the University of New Haven for the spring s-semester… her voice trailed off in tears once more.

They have a good forensics program over there, Andy said from his desk without thinking.

Both Kate and Dex glared at him when the mother turned frightened eyes his way. What? he asked, and then it occurred to him that these people just heard their daughter went missing without a trace three weeks ago and they had no word of her since. He hunched back over the keyboard again, hunt and pecking away, muttering to himself. Kate didn’t care if he had no typing skills, she was not taking the time to write his reports and she wasn’t going to pay a secretary to do it either.

Look… I know this is hard, she said soothingly, turning back to the couple sitting before her, But I need more information about your daughter. Her addiction treatment, the camp, letters home, diaries, her friends, love interests, potential enemies—anything you can give me. Because frankly, if I have to do all that extra legwork to figure this stuff out, it’s going to cost a lot more, and if in the end we discover that for whatever reason she did bolt, I’ll have to charge you anyway. She hated to be so blunt, but it was always better to tell them that stuff up front. Her time was worth money.

We brought what we could find Ms. Keener, and we’ll pay you whatever you ask, because we heard that locally, you‘re the best in your field, the father said as he got to his feet, indicating the meeting was over. Obviously this was a man who was used to getting whatever he wanted. He was tall without being thin, but lanky and solid looking. Kate figured he likely played basketball in school. He helped his sniffling wife up before flipping a checkbook out of his suit jacket’s inner pocket. Listen, we both have to get to work. How much do you need to get started? he asked curtly.

Kate slid down, the cheap espadrilles she wore in the office making a squeaking sound on the old linoleum floor. She handed them each a pen along with an agreement contract on a clipboard and some generic information release forms.

This consult is free. I get $50 an hour for investigative work, so $300 ought to be enough for now. If I go over that, and I still think this is worth my time, I’ll let you know. If I’m under, you get a refund. I need all of these forms signed and dated, and please leave me a contact number for each of you. Take all the time you need to read them through.

He seemed to be in a big hurry, not giving any of the paperwork more than a cursory glance. He pointed out to his wife where to sign and date the forms as he quickly scribbled a check. Kate noted he was left handed. It likely didn’t mean anything important, but she had a file drawer mind for facts. He tore the check free impatiently, ripping a bit off the top left corner, then read and signed the simple one page agreement and the three releases himself, before handing them all over with a bit of a flourish.

Anything else? he asked in an abrupt tone, and she shook her head.

That should be it for now, Kate reassured him.

"Good, because I want answers Ms. Keener. The sooner the better," he said with a sigh that bordered on exasperation. The wife hung on his arm, and he patted her hand absentmindedly.

A high strung, arrogant, impatient, social climber of a father who is a bit overbearing at times, coupled with an emotionally dependent mother. I wonder how much of that family dynamic affected their daughter’s addiction problems?

Kate tucked the check and contract inside the file folder pocket and pulled two of her business cards out of the holder on her desk, handing one to each of them.

Call me if you have any other ideas or information, or if something comes up. I have voicemail here in the office and can pick it up with my cell. Now that I have your numbers, I’ll call you when I have something, added Kate as she escorted the parents out and watched them head down the stairs that lead to the bakery below. She shut the door after straightening the PLEASE NO SMOKING sign for the umpteenth time where it hung below the textured glass window with THE KEENER EYE painted in an arch above a stylized eye of Horus.

Heading back inside, Kate was already so deep in thought that she unconsciously accepted the cup of coffee from Dex with no more than a nod of thanks as she slid behind the blonde oak desk that her father, practical man that he was, bought her for her sixteenth birthday. The high backed wooden chair was a sidewalk throwaway she had played ‘urban fairy’ with and lugged three blocks home. It was amazingly comfortable with the plump cushions Gwen had crocheted from strips of castoff clothing, and safe to recline in as long as she stayed