Dead Men Don't Blink Twice

By CJ Hawk

Sidney Sampson had no idea that one fateful day while doing fieldwork and investigating a dead officer’s crime scene, her whole life would change. One man, who should be dead, flutters his eyelashes on her cheek. Sidney squirms needlessly to get off the dead cop’s body, from the recent bomb explosion that landed her there. What happens next is a total misunderstanding between them. The flutter of his lashes and the firm member of his anatomy told her that dead men don’t blink twice.
Once a simple life and career, following the footstep of her father who raised her alone, Sidney was more than ready for change. Her job as a police coroner was not her dream job, but it was where life led her while growing up without a mother. In fact, her whole life was in dire need of change. She wanted a better job, but had no idea what. She wanted fun female friends, but only ended up with dull boring friends. She wanted to find her feminine wiles along with a sex life, all she has gotten lately was a kiss on the forehead after a blind date, and a boring closet filled with durable work khakis and brown comfortable work loafers.
Life is about to change for Sidney. Could she learn how to be her own woman, finding more purpose in life without falling head over heels in love with a man who is so wrong for her in so many ways?
Excerpts:
My gut instinct was to run, but instead I started to stand up and tripped over the dead cop’s body. My entire body landed almost squarely on top of him. My face landed next to his with my cheek on his eyes. I felt a flutter of his lashes against my cheek.
I froze.
Holy shit I thought to myself. I just thought I felt the dead cop move. My mind was a tornado of possibilities while my mouth kept forming the words ‘oh my god’ in a slow whispering drawl right next to his left ear.
What happened next almost sent me through the roof but my body could not move. I felt frozen in time. I continued with deep slow breathing tossing in a ‘oh my God’ once in a while. As all this was happening, I wiggled my body a little and realized what I felt was a complete and utter misunderstanding between Detective Jason Black and me. He was hard and not in the sense that death had set in. He was rock hard in his privates, and his eyelashes kept batting at my cheek. I screamed out. “Stop!” Then he did.
“Oh my God. You’re not dead. Dead men don’t blink. Jesus! You’re not dead are you?” I felt his eyelashes blink up and down along my cheek twice. “Dead men don’t blink twice.” I screamed and backed off his body and fast as I could with an awkward motion right past his privates and an accidentally knock with my knee, and he let out a groan.
Oh shit. I just knocked the dead cop in the nuts. Only this would happen to me. It took a second groan to make me realize this was all real. From there I went into rescue mode and scrambled fast. It took me under a minute to grab my cell and my case and rush to the dead cop – but now alive cop's side.

• Language: English
• Publisher: CJ Hawk
• Release date: Jan 18, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458043146

CJ Hawk

I am an independently published author that finds scraps of time to write with intentions to escape the perils of a working life while owning and operating three small businesses with my husband, raising teen boys, sixteen paws (yes four shelter dogs) and a tank full of fish that keep multiplying on their own every time we look for baby fish – free fish anyone? For all of the chaos, testing of mental fortitude, strength and intuition I have endured, I have a lot to be thankful for.Recent years have put my dedication to writing time on the back burner. There were a few major surgeries within my immediate household, to then have major changes in life in general. As of 2015, I lost my mother to the final battle of Ovarian Cancer. She was a strong independent woman that I loved deeply but often saw things quite a bit differently, yet only a mother knows, you love your child no matter what - and that love will always find a way.Between our business, teens, my mother’s cancer battle and life, I have found a renewed sense of what makes me content when the tides are trying to drown me... and that is to be creative in any whimsical way that nudges me. I am back to writing full force when time allows, painting, gardening, taking pictures, knitting or my all-time favorite thing that helped me morn my loss, scrapbooking. All of these things are so very therapeutic and to be able to share with others, gives me joy.I hope you like my books, not perfect as they could be; but life is not perfect and is meant to be enjoyed nonetheless. – CJ Hawk

Book preview

Dead Men Don't Blink Twice

CJ Hawk

Published by Smashwords and Copyright 2011 CJ Hawk

hhtp://www.cjhawk.com

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/cjhawk

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and strictly fictional. All persons, places or incidences are creative endeavors of the author. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

Summary

Sidney Sampson had no idea that one fateful day while doing fieldwork and investigating a dead officer’s crime scene, her whole life would change. One man, who should be dead, flutters his eyelashes on her cheek. Sidney squirms needlessly to get off the dead cop’s body, from the recent bomb explosion that landed her there. What happens next is a total misunderstanding between them. The flutter of his lashes and the firm member of his anatomy told her that dead men don’t blink twice.

Once a simple life and career, following the footstep of her father who raised her alone, Sidney was more than ready for change. Her job as a police coroner was not her dream job, but it was where life led her while growing up without a mother. In fact, her whole life was in dire need of change. She wanted a better job, but had no idea what. She wanted fun female friends, but only ended up with dull boring friends. She wanted to find her feminine wiles along with a sex life, yet all she has gotten lately, was a kiss on the forehead after a blind date, and a boring closet filled with durable work khakis and brown comfortable work loafers.

Life is about to change for Sidney. Could she learn how to be her own woman, finding more purpose in life without falling head over heels in love with a man who is so wrong for her in so many ways?

Chapter One

The click clack of my black sling back heels, echoed against the empty alleyway. The air was thick with spring humidity, and the occasional dark gloomy cloud would cover over the sun.

I was in the downtown warehouse district, heading to where one of our own undercover officers was shot and pronounced dead. Our local PD secured the scene. The CSI team had been shorthanded, so as part of my normal police coroner job requirements, I had to put in so many hours on scene. Today was one of those days I had doubted my choice in job careers.

My name is Sid Sampson. Short for Sidney. I was raised by my single dad as the boy he never had. Out of fear of disappointment, I rarely showed my girly side around him. My dad had been a coroner all his life. My mom, well we are not sure what happened to her. My dad quit looking after she sent divorce papers in the mail. When it came time for me to make a career path in life, I choose a police department coroner like my father, and that decision made him feel like man of the year. As for me, well I really wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, so I figured what the heck, I’ll be a coroner too.

I have always kept my looks simple, almost boyish. I am average height, average build, average mousy brown hair and the only thing I got going for me are my bright blue eyes.

My partner for the day was one of my least favorite investigators. She was tough as nails. Her face etched with a permanent scowl, and her voice barked out from her pack a day habit. Her hair had been bleached blonde so many times I was sure her brain was permanently fried, like the rest of her dried-out hair.

I now understood why her partner constantly called in sick for the day. Her personal phone had been ringing off the hook on the whole ride over to the warehouse district. All I got was the end of a conversation from her crispy crunchy voice. Her boyfriend left her for a younger girl who she was ‘damn set’ on finding out where the poor girl lived. I almost told her that it wasn't just the girl she should be mad at, but the guy, but I knew better. This was one of those times, when silence is golden.

We reached the darken doorway of the warehouse where the undercover officer was discovered after not reporting to his boss. Apparently, his partner was still out in the field undercover, and this was an undercover officer’s moment gone wrong. The local PD had assured us the area was secure.

We walked inside, and it took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. The only light source was the half-broken windows that lined up horizontal all around the warehouse walls, covered in soot. The place reeked of oil on concrete and old machinery. The floor showed place markings where old machines of some type must have stood many a years. As my sight began to readjust to the darkness, I saw where the body laid. I followed my adopted partner for the day, thanking my lucky stars I did not always have to work with her on a regular basis. Making the thought of working under my current boss seems almost doable.

Ironically enough, it was just yesterday that I mentally bashed my current boss, Stan Mulligan, who also happened to be my father’s best friend and once, not long ago, my father’s apprentice. I was raised around the man, and I always treated him like an uncle but now I had to treat him like a boss. This morning I was thrilled to have to fulfill my obligatory hours out in the field away from Stan. Sometimes you have to be careful what you ask for. After I got the ferocious of all barks from deep-fried blondie; snapping me out of my mental wash cycle, my day job didn't look too bad.

Over there she directed me. Suggesting I was too stupid to see where the body was. Just then, her phone rang and a slur of curse words exiting her overly dry etched lips. I watched her mouth shape curse word after curse word, utterly fascinated with her lipstick. How it would just ease into all the creases around her mouth from years of smoking. I had a feeling I was going to be doing all the work on this one as I watched her open the door and exit out.

The quick flash of light from the sun, as she opened the door, almost blinded me, and then the light was gone. I looked around the empty warehouse and took in what I could considering the environment, trying to get my eyes to readjust all over again. All I had to worry about was the dead officer’s body. My partner was supposed to be back to examine the scene and take evidence. At least I think that was what she told me. I was not about to go chase her down in the middle of her lover’s triangular drama. NGH - my internal motto of Not Gonna Happen. It was something I lived by if things felt wrong.

I set down my examiner’s case and pulled out my small LED flashlight to get a better look at the recently deceased. A ticking noise caught my attention, and I looked to my right with my light. Seeing as there was nothing but some dilapidated old cardboard boxes placed throughout the warehouse without real rhyme or reason. I figured it for my squeamish ways. I was not one to watch a horror movie without my hands over my eyes, nor was I the type to be sitting in an empty warehouse by myself, but here I was. The dead cop lying at my feet didn’t count. I returned my flashlight back to the purpose I was here and did a quick sweep of the dead cop's body in length.

Oh but to my wandering eyes did appear. I started at the head and saw a head of dark hair shaved short with a glimpse past the closed eyes and parted lips that looked - dare I say, very handsome. Not normal huh? Checking out a dead man was not my thing, but it had been a while since my last anything with a man and this man, even dead, was handsome. I saw where the bullet went in and there seemed to be an adequate amount of blood, coming from his shoulder area, on his light-gray shirt with a skull graphic on the shirt. I shivered at the thought of how one bullet could do so much damage.

My light continued on down past his chest, and I thought I saw it rise and lower, then that sound I heard earlier sounded louder and more predominant. I quickly flashed my light in the direction the sound was coming from. I reassured myself that the scene had been secured, and I knew that deep fried blondie would be back any minute. She did not like anyone to screw with her scene, personal annoyances aside or not. I told myself I was only imagining the dead man’s movement. I mentally told myself again that the scene was secure.

The sound stopped, and that spooked me more than the sound itself. Because it got dead silent for a moment and eerily calm was just as scary as a ticking noise that stopped and started by itself. I calmed my nerves by listening to my heavy breathing, and I knelt down to begin my preliminary examination.

Before my second knee could touch the cold slimy concrete, a loud bang exploded through the warehouse, and I immediately put my hands over my ears to cover the sound and tucked my head between my knees. A few metal scraping booms sounded to follow and then the sound of my heavy panicked breathing was all I could hear. As I lifted my head, I smelt a waft of dirt and debris in the air. I slowly scanned the area and realized that the metal rafters, in front of the only way out of this god-forsaken warehouse, were blocking my way out. Then my mind wandered to the fact that something wet was seeping through my pants on my ass. It was then, that I realized I was sitting facing backwards to the dead cop, and his blood was most likely what was turning my brand new pair of durable khaki work pants into a permanent shade of gross.

With flashlight in hand and still on, I scanned the area in detail wondering how long it would take the fire department to get me out of there. Just then, my phone rang from a few feet away, realizing it had fallen out of my pocket. I let the flashlight in my hand zoom towards the ring and realized it was at the foot of the dead cop.

My voice shaking and my heart pounding, I answered as professionally as possible. Sid Sampson here. I listened to the voice of deep fried blondie tell me in her awful raspy voice that the fire department was on its way. Peachy I chimed. How long do you think it will take?

How long will the fire department take or to get you out? God darling I ain’t no magician. Just sit tight I’ll call you back Her sweet demeanor, sparkling personality and smooth voice put me right at ease.

I took a few deep breaths and realized there was no way I was going to examine this dead officer with a clear conscience. My mind was totally freaked out. The racing of my heart could have won out any NASCAR race I have ever watched with my dad and Uncle Stan, dear sweet boss. At this point in time, I acquired some overdue appreciation for my boss. Like the safety and serenity of my job was far better than this situation, I am finding myself in at the present moment.

I leaned back against a wooden crate that was about two feet away from the dead officer’s head. I blew out a puff of hair blowing my mousy brown bangs out of my eyes. I sat the pen light between my knees, clasping my hands around my legs, tilted my head back and looked at the ray of light that shown straight up. I hummed a tune that I totally made up to ease myself out of the fright I was in. I began talking aloud to myself. I’m not even sure why I started where I did but the only other person in the room was dead, and I was overdue for an emotional cleansing.

Chapter Two

I mean I don’t have any idea who or where my mother is. She left when I was eighteen months old. I use to blame myself but to this day; my dad constantly reassures me that it had nothing to do with me. It was just who my mom was. He would always say she was not one of those woman cut out to be a mom or a wife, so she left us. Sometimes I would dream that my dad lied to me about her. That he would tell me she would be back any day now. As I got older, I realized he has never lied to me, and that I had been lying to myself all along. So I would just dream she was in a better place wherever it might be, be it here or in heaven.

I readjusted my cold wet butt to sit more on my knees tucked underneath me and set my flashlight back between my legs to have it shine sideways into the deserted warehouse. I continued talking to the dead undercover agent as it made me feel better. My dad always acted like I was a boy. I guess I always figured he secretly wanted a boy. Out of fear of losing my dad, I acted like one. Even to this day, I always dress, well, I would guess you would call it tomboyish. I’ve kept my hair and looks very simple. It was easier for me, and well, I guess I just didn’t have anyone to really show me how to do the girl's dress up thing.

I took a deep long breath. The thing is. My twenty ninth birthday, just rounded the corner a couple of months ago, and I started thinking deep about my life. Who I am. Where I want to be. What I want to be. I know being a coroner is every girls dream. I let out a trail of soft laughter. Just not mine. I let out a long sigh that turned into light laughter. Thinking to myself about what is every girls dream. I had no idea. I just had never let myself be that girly girl. However, there were times, a lot of them actually, when I wanted my feminine wiles to come out.

I don’t know how I would go about changing careers now. The other day I found myself daydreaming; I was a well-kept woman; career clothes, made-up hair, busy life of laptops, cell phones and business appointments. Instead of doing anything about a career change, I went and bought myself these wrinkle proof, man-fitting, khakis to wear to work under my lab coat. I know fancy. Although this is the first time I’ve put on heels in months, and I get called out to this site where I’m positive my pants are ruined with your blood, and my open-toed heels have left my feet freezing in this warehouse.

I continued talking to the dead cop, thinking to myself this is definitely insane, and perhaps I got some of my mom’s genetic craziness. It felt good to talk about all the toxic things that had been bothering me, and well, he was dead. He couldn’t talk back, he could only listen. So, I carried on with not a care in the world that I was trapped in this dreary warehouse with a dead guy. I was talking to myself loudly as if I was talking to my best friend. One of those things on my list of long wishes. Another female I wish I had things in common and spent enjoyable time with, someone to call a best friend.

By now, my toes were frozen along with my legs. I took my flashlight and scanned around. There was a cardboard box not but a few feet away. Damning the fact it could have evidence on it, I stood up and stretched my cold butt and legs while wiggling my toes.

The box was falling apart. So I karate chopped the top, and the lid fell inwards. I pulled the top out and looked in with the flashlight. I then realized that the box held a wonderful surprise. Eur – flipping – reka! I screamed. What looked to be smaller boxes held something so wonderfully pleasant. Sheepskin lined slippers with rubber soles. Yeah buddy. I am putting you on.

I reached in and felt odd packing material but what I pulled out was just my size. I put no thought to the fact that this