Indestructible: Carole Larsen Mysteries

By charles fisher

Shelby Lynn Anders, niece of serial killer Jimmy Anders appears in Stratford and starts killing wife cheaters.  Harper reveals she has a sister, a hybrid star child, which necessitates a trip by Carla to a secret Pleiadian base in Antarctica. Lots of action and comedic situations, like Carla losing to Tara's dog on Jeopardy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: charles fisher
• Release date: Jan 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393597780

Book preview

Indestructible

The Legend of Shelby  Lynn Anders

Beware of my avengers, sayeth the Lord. For thou shall meet them when thou least expect it, and  thou shall pay a terrible price.

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Stratford Police Department

900 Longbrook Ave.

Stratford, Connecticut

September, 2006

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What did you find out? Carole said. Is this Shelby Anders  person  in California like she said she would be?

How the hell should I know? Carla said. Do I look like Miss Los Angeles to you? Although I could win that title real easy, she grinned.

You could win Miss Face Down Ass Up real easy, too, Harper giggled. Isn’t that right, Slut Bunny?

What did you call me, you little bastard? You take that back. I am a fine moral girl.

You’re a cheap hose bag who peddles her oversized ass on the interweb, Harper said.

That is not true, Carla huffed. I got a nice size coolie. I were voted Best Ass in the Country three times.

I bet they haven’t seen your ass lately, Miss Wide Load. All those pancakes and Lasagna you eat are starting to stick to your gigantic Gluteus Maximus.

That were that boy Russell Crowe played in Glad He Ate Her, Carla grinned. I like that boy. Although he be a big fuckin’ phony liberal, preachin’ about how violence and guns be bad. Look the movies he done. Liberals don’t got  a problem with violence when it puts money in their pocket. Ain’t that right, Miss phony Liberal 1960s Asshole? Carla grinned at Carole.

What did you call me? Carole shrieked. The 1960s were a time of peace and love. We didn’t support the Vietnam war, and we only wanted everybody to love each other. As long as they paid enough, she giggled. Of course I wouldn’t know about that. I was untouched by human hands.

Indeed she was, Sergeant Pat Kennedy said as he came in. She was voted Miss I Wouldn’t Lick That With Your Tongue four years in a row. Only poll she ever won was Miss Maybe I’d Bang That if I Couldn’t  Get Anything in my Own Species, a poll taken in the Bridgeport Zoo Monkey House.

You disgusting rat bastard, Carole hissed. You weren’t supposed to talk about that. I paid you good money to keep your fat mouth shut. Besides, monkeys can’t vote or read, so there. It was all fake.

You couldn’t read either, according to your stellar report card history, Kennedy smiled as he unwrapped a hot dog and farted. The only D you ever got was in English, not in your bra. You could vote, though. As I recall, you were the only kid in Junior High who was old enough.

What? Carole screeched. I was the same age  as you. Maybe, she giggled. I look a lot younger than you do, blubber butt.

I have things I dug up in my yard that look younger than you, Kennedy said as he belched. Remember what Ricky Caraglior said about you? He said you looked just like his grandmother.

He was gay! Carole shouted. What the hell did he know about girls?

He knew you didn’t look like one, Kennedy smiled.

Harper looked at her watch. Like duh, old people, are we finished with the Hippie flashbacks yet? We do have cop work to do, you know.

Shifty thinks she knows about cop work, Carla grinned as she started a pizza UFO. She don’t know shit. Knows about New York airports, though, and  big Swedish pilots shovin’ somethin’ down her throat.

That was a throat swab to test for the H1 N1 Virus! Harper yelled. I tested clean, she said, looking up. And you can’t prove otherwise.

Y’all swallow? Carla grinned. That be worth extra.

Why you little nymphomaniac rat, Harper nodded. Only a slob like you would do that.

And if you and me was standin’ on a marry-up altar, God forbid, which one of us would the boy choose? The swallower or the wallower?

What? Harper giggled.

Sounded good, Carla shrugged. Nothin’ else rhymes. Y’all been found out, airport whore. Do not try to get out from under the truth, or out from under that airline pilot you done played  shove it where I love it with. I know about shit like this.

I bet you do, Harper grinned. At twenty bucks a shot.

Eighty, Carla huffed. Quick visit. I am a commercial gal.

You are also the Chief of Detectives, Carole said. We have several unsolved murders here, and that girl you let go is a prime suspect.

Show me some evy-dence the girl done anything wrong. We looked high and low, and we got shit. Nobody knows who the hell rented that pavement roller them boys got squished by, even though it were delivered to an empty lot owned by your favorite I could not catch his ass in forty years killer, Jimmy Anders. You are desperate, girl.

That is good circumstantial evidence, Carole said. The names match.

Okay, show me who bought that machine. I questioned the boy who sold it, and he did not have a name. Just a phony corporation, and the gal’s name ain’t on the documents. We got no witnesses about none of these murders, and the tapes from the Pub do not make a positive match to anybody. Even if they did, they do not show the girl walkin’ out of the bar with none of the dead boys. We got no way to connect her to that drug she supposedly uses, neither. You want to arrest her and tell Brenda what you got?

No, Carole sighed. You’re right. Try to develop more leads. It has to be her. You cannot let somebody get away with murder here, no matter who she is or how much you sympathize with her cause. She does not have the right to execute people.

Some people do, Carla nodded. God gives them that right. Of course I do not expect you to believe me, because you are a bound up law robot. I am the Chief of D, and I will run this case the best way I see fit.

You will follow the law, Carole said.

I always do, Carla smiled. You just ain’t never figured that out. You prob’ly never will.

Residence of the Larsen Family

12 Washington Parkway

Stratford, Connecticut

September, 2006

I don’t like it here, Mary smiled as she opened the slider to the deck and started choking. It’s low tide again. It smells like the laundry when I used to wash Carole’s underpants, she smiled. Now I just burn them. Do we have a wood stove here?

Yes, we do, Harper grinned. In the family room. I’m going to burn all of Carla’s rubber boners some night, just to piss her off.

Carole broke four of those in high school; how she did it is anybody’s guess. Then one night I found her with the bed post up her kazoo.

What did you say? Carole shrieked.

Oh, come on, Shorty. You always smelled like something they threw overboard from the Andrea Gail.

Why you old...... I don’t believe you’d say something like that about me.

Face the truth, Shorty, Mary smiled. You think Tuna Surprise smells bad? You never did your own laundry, fish girl.

Pay her no mind, Carole smiled. She’s senile.

Yo, like Carole, I heard about that my own self. It’s on the internet, Vinny said.

You are a no good rotten bastard criminal, Carole nodded. And that crooked don’t touch my ass  wife of yours. Oh yeah, I know about you, sellout Brenda, she smiled. You’re rated number one on that website, District Attorneys For Sale.

Really? Brenda smiled. You got like evidence, Carp in Your Pants? Bring it.

Y’all got to lay off each other, Ronnie Lee said as she came out. Y’all interrupted my nap. This is a nice place, she shrugged. Reminds me of the shore in Alabam.

You were never in Alabama, Carole giggled. You’re an asshole faker from Kansas.

Better than you, shit for brains wish I could still run a squad, Ronnie Lee grinned as she started the gravy. I seen better than you  crawlin’ up a possum’s leg for a free lick.

What? Carole giggled. What the hell does that mean?

Means you ain’t shit, Ronnie Lee said as she added cognac and grain alcohol to the gravy. You and yours, comin’ down here and buyin’ this big assed fancy  house on the beach. Who y’all think you are, Perry Mason? House don’t make you a good cop.

Makes it a nice place to relax and recover from the daily stress, Carla grinned as she leaned over and farted. There y’all go. I just got rid of my stress.

Smells the same as that low tide out there, Ronnie Lee nodded. Why y’all want to live next to the water, anyway? All you got here is poison chemicals and radiation and garbage and shit washin’ up on the shore. Y’all swim in that, you will dissolve. I seen a uterus floatin’ around out there the other day.

It is nice to look at, Carla said. I never seen the ocean until I moved here. God made the oceans for our pleasure.

God made your pussy for your pleasure, Ronnie Lee leered.

Well, He did do that, and I have been known to indulge in that a time or two. That does not mean the ocean is not pleasant to look at. It calms me down, and that ain’t easy to do.

Y’all got  a case you cannot solve. You got some murders, and you talked with the gal who prob’ly done them murders. You got  a reason for why you let her go?

It is called no evidence, Carla said. And I mean zero. We got nothing on this girl.

Then you make some, Ronnie Lee said.

I will not do that. I will not fake evidence to put somebody away. The girl got an honest heart, and she is nobody to fool with.

Okay, Ronnie Lee said as she took the gravy off the stove. You keep believin’ that. Then you can keep moppin’ up the messes she makes when she comes back here.

Ain’t nothin’ wrong with a mess, Carla nodded. Long as the right people get messed up. Let’s eat. I am tired for talkin’ about this bullshit.

Most people get tired of talking about a crime they can’t solve, Carole smiled.

You ain’t exactly Barnaby Jones your own self. That boy was good, Carla grinned. Cept for that asshole kid he had, Jethro.

That was a different show, Carole said. Beverly Hillbillies. He played Jed Clampett.

And y’all played Granny, Carla grinned.

That was Irene Ryan, Carole smiled. Guess again, I’ll Lay Down for a Twenty.

Y’all can lay down unconscious if you do not stop insultin’ me, Carla said. I am a Chief. I got class.

Spell it, Carole grinned.

F-U-C-K  Y-O-U, Carla said. That good enough?

My, my, the party is getting rough, Mary said as she served the Lasagna and Prime Rib. Don’t you get tired of eating the same thing every week?

Carole spit her drink halfway across the room. Sorry, Mother. That brought back a memory from high school I’d rather forget."

Oh, that, Mary said with a wave of her hand. That was that nice boy Rick Jones, who was stupid enough to go out with you for three months. I wonder if that surgery he had got the taste out of his mouth. I hear he turned down a high paying job at the fish market after he went out with you.

Vito came in and set two bags on the counter. Hey, Mare, he grinned at Mary. How youse doing?

Okay, Vito, Mary said. Carole was just telling us about a boy who lost his senses of smell and taste when she made him lick her...

Stop! Carole yelled. What is wrong with you? she shrieked.

Isn’t that what he asked you? I told you where the vinegar was, but you never listened.

Carole made a lot of people lose their sense of smell, Vito grinned. Every time she crapitates we got to call the CPA.

A CPA is an accountant, you asshole, Carole snapped.

Yeah, and it’s Carole’s Poison Ass. Them dudes with the rubber suits got to come to the station twice a month to unclog the toilet. What’s that stink? he said, looking around.

It’s low tide, Carole snickered. Remind you of anything, like a vacation in Italy?

Close, Vito shrugged. Youse arrest that dame Coo-coo met with?

No. Carla claims there wasn’t enough evidence to hold her, even though she practically admitted to the murders in town and said she’s going to kill Jimmy Anders, who happens to be her Uncle.

Hey, give the broad a friggin’ medal if she offs the dude. Youse ain’t been able to do it.

Too late; she took off. Said she’s going to California.

Good place for a killer, Vito beamed. Place is full of assholes and fags. She could reducitate the popularity out there and nobody would complain.

Yes, but she said she’s coming back here. That should be interesting, Carole said. I wonder if our wondrous new Chief of D can catch her.

What did y’all call me? Carla exclaimed.

Buy a dictionary, Carole said.

I know what that meant, Carla nodded. Y’all callin’ me stupid again, ain’t you, you no good midget bastard pile of mule shit.

Oh my God, Harper shrieked. This is so funny. Stumpy and Hog Ass are going to throw down. We should sell tickets. Followed by a guess their weight contest.

Why, you no good little son of a bitch, Carla nodded. Now y’all be on the fightin’ side of me, callin’ me Stumpy. I ain’t short.

I was talking about  Carole, Harper smiled. She’s Stumpy. You’re Hog Ass.

Oh; that be better. I think, she grinned. Wait a minute, y’all callin’ me fat, you bastard?

Oh, no, I can’t imagine anybody calling you fat, Harper giggled. What about that order you made on line to that meat packing plant for  a new bathroom scale? You know, the one where they weigh  a side of beef.

I like beef, Carla grinned. It’s what’s for dinner. Bobby Mitchum said that, when he ain’t makin’ deodorant. He’s from Bridgeport.

Our match in December is going to be in Bridgeport, Harper grinned. The Christmas Pay-Per-View; I’ll Be Home For Christmas, But You Won’t.

Oh yeah, you will, Carla nodded. On a damn stretcher. I aim to fix your flat ass once and for all, and teach you who the real bad ass around here is.

We already know how bad your ass is, Harper said. I’m still on antibiotics because of it. Admit it, Skunk Face. You have no chance against me in a real wrestling match. I got two words for you; crossface, and hospital.

Y’all fucked up, Carla grinned. This be a NWA match. Crossface be illegal in the NWA. You got to use the Fuckface, or Stick it in my Face, or anything else y’all can come up with, boner sucker. Now what y’all gonna do without your favorite hold? I know; y’all gonna be one out of four. Make your dumb I Lost to Carla’s Ass look even dumber than it already be.

You think that’s the only hold I know? Harper said. I know holds you won’t believe until you find yourself locked up in one of them.

Carla started slapping her hand on the table. This is what y’all gonna be doing, she grinned. Tap out.

Really? Then let’s make it an I Quit match. You can only win by submission, fat butt, Harper said.

You got it, plywood ass, Carla grinned. Y’all gonna be screamin’ my name in the hospital.

Like so many men have done while the doctor amputated their penis, Harper giggled.

How about we add another special rule? Carole smiled. Anybody who can’t report for duty after this match gets a one month vacation without pay.

Hear that, Shifty? Carla grinned. Y’all gonna be warmin’ your ass on the pine for a month, suckin’ hog shit with no money and no food.

You’d do that to me? Harper shrieked. Lock me up in this beachfront insane asylum for a month with Mary with nothing to eat? Fine friend you are. Not that you’ll win, of course, she shrugged.

Don’t pay any attention to Carole, Mary said. You’ll have plenty to eat. I still have my Minnesota cookbook.

I’ll take a month in holding on Beefaroni and stale bread before I’ll eat anything you make, Harper said. That cookbook should be confiscated by the EPA.

It was, Mary shrugged. They gave it back to me after they tried to make Minnesota Madness and blew up their laboratory.

Looks like we got us a deal, Carla grinned. Shifty gonna lose, and got to stay here under lockdown when I beat her flat ass. Fear not, girl; I will bring you Minnesota Maggot Meat Pie and Shit on a Shingle twice a day.

Los Angeles Police Department HQ

100 West 1st Street Room

Los Angeles, California

October, 2006

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What the hell is this? Chief of Police Michael Morrison exclaimed when he saw the file.

We don’t know yet, Chief of Detectives Ben Forrest said. It’s a fresh crime scene behind a 7-11. We’re waiting for the Coroner’s report while we canvass the area for witnesses.

What the fuck happened to this guy? Morrison laughed. I never saw anything like this in my life.

It appears that the victim was squashed by some sort of truck, like a gravel truck; you know, with big tires. There ain’t much left except road pizza on one of those blue tarps. And the penis, Forrest grinned. That was a few feet away from the remains.

Any I.D. on the poor bastard? Morrison said.

Yeah, we found his wallet in the goop. Dude’s name is Dolan; Peter Dolan. He was an accountant for General Motors. He used to live in Stratford, Connecticut. He was 57 years old. No record or anything, clean guy. That’s all we have right now.

Call somebody in Stratford, the Chief said. A lot of bad shit traces back to that town for some reason. Somebody there has to know something.

I wouldn’t bet on it, Forrest said. I’ve talked to some other cops who had dealings with them. The entire Detective Squad is made up of girls; some of them are only teenagers.

Girls, the Chief sighed. Your worst nightmare; a girl with a badge. Call them anyway. Just be nice. Maybe they won’t come out here and kill us all.

Stratford Police Department

900 Longbrook Ave.

Stratford, Connecticut

October, 2006

Chief Larsen, Carla gasped as her breath came in ragged spurts. What y’all want? I am on my private time.

This is Chief of Detectives Ben Forrest from the LAPD. Can I have a minute?

Damn, boy, I am about to have me a Deputy Dawg moment. Call back in five.

Forrest called back five minutes later. Are you finished? he laughed.

Yeah, and not a damn minute too soon, Carla said as she fixed her skirt. That were a close one, she grinned. I had me a fresh battery pack, and I dang near saw Jesus. What you want, boy?

Where are you from? You don’t sound like an Easterner, Forrest said.

I am from Kansas, and do not bring up that shit about what I did on Easter. I heard enough about that, damn it. Boy were wearin’ a rabbit suit, and I was over the age of corn-sent despite any re-ports to the contrary.

I’m calling about a murder victim, Forrest said.

Y’all called the right place, Carla said as she mopped her forehead. We are the capitol of murder victims. Got anybody in mind? We give a po-lice discount. We even got a sale this month. Two for  the price of two.

That’s not a sale, Forrest said.

Fuck you, then, Carla snapped. Do your own killin’. What is this about? I was just about to have lunch.

It’s eight A.M. where you are, Forrest said.

I got call forwarding, Carla nodded. A lot of people are after my ass, and I do not disclose my location. I can disclose my Tastycake, though, if you be handsome.

You’re funny, Forrest laughed. Are you really the Chief of Detectives?

Yes I am. You want something, boy? I ain’t got all day. I got to go buy another battery pack. They don’t make ‘em like they used to. Energizer Bunny, my ass.

We have a murder victim here name of Peter Dolan. He lived in your town at one time. He was squashed into an unrecognizable mess, and his penis was cut off and left near the crime scene. Would you know anything about this?

Wasn’t  me, Carla huffed. I ain’t never cut off no penises. Not recent like anyway, she grinned. There were some boys back in the orphanages who refused to do their manly duties, and they wound up in the pickle jar. I would not know anything about that, of course, me bein’ the fine moral gal that I am.

I’m sure you are, Chief. I need some information so I can solve this.

You ain’t gonna, Carla said. You will find no evidence. Y’all got a road pizza on a blue tarp, right?

Correct.

Boy been squished flatter than an Arkansas pancake, and his dick be five feet or so away from the mess?

Correct.

Then you got you one hell of  a problem, boy. This is not a boat accident. It wasn’t any propeller, it wasn’t any  coral reef, and it wasn’t Jack the Ripper. It was a shark.

JAWS, Richard Dreyfuss in the autopsy room, Forrest said.

Damn, boy, you are good. I owe you twenty dollars.

I’ll take it out in trade. I hear you’re hot.

You say anything like that to me again and I will come out there and make you wish you were never born, Carla said in a dead voice. I do not abide bein’ insulted by no cop like you. We clear?

Yes, we are, Chief. I was just making a joke.

I ain’t laughing, Carla said. And you won’t be either if I climb through your bedroom window at three in the morning. The girl you got out there is on a mission. She started here.

What do you suggest I do about it? Forrest said.

Kiss my Kansas ass and whistle Dixie, Carla nodded. You cannot and will not be able to stop this girl. Nobody can; not even me, and I am the best there has ever been. She has a list, and she be checkin’ it twice. She knows who’s been naughty and nice.

I bet you’re naughty, Forrest grinned.

What did I tell you, son? You want a late night visit from me?

I would love one, Forrest said. You have a great sense of humor, and you know who you are. I always wanted somebody like you under my sheets.

Keep wantin’, Carla said as she slammed the phone in his ear. Bastard, she grumbled. I don’t got to take that shit from him.

What happened, Bang me for a Buck, somebody touch a nerve? Harper said as she came in.

Damn Los Angeles Californicate Chief of D. Thinks he can get me in his bed.

Who hasn’t? Harper laughed. What happened, he didn’t offer you enough money?

Why would you say something like that to me? Carla said quietly. Of all the people in this world, you know my spirit better than anybody. You know what I want for my life, and you know why I can never have it. Now stop it. I do not want to hear that again from you.

You can have it, Harper said. You just have to want it. That’s what you don’t understand. I want it too, but it’s very difficult for us because of what we do. Nobody really wants girls like us. They know they might lose us.

Then they had the best, Carla nodded. Damn fuckin’ cowards, I hate all of ‘em. Ain’t none of ‘em got the balls to love a real woman like me or you. Well, me, anyway, she grinned. Y’all be out of luck, board butt.

We’ll see who’s out of luck in December, Rent Me by the Hour. Your ass is mine, not everybody else’s.

Stratford Police Department

900 Longbrook Ave.

Stratford, Connecticut

October, 2006

I saw the wire, Carole yawned as she opened a pizza box. It seems your suspect is plying her trade in California.

As if you’d know, Commish, Harper giggled. When was the last time you were plied?

Carole took out her notebook. When.....was......the.....last......time..... how do you spell plied?

F-U-C-K-E-D, Harper grinned. Something you, at your advanced age, can’t remember ever doing.

I can so. Not that I have to tell you assholes about it. My sex life is private, she said, looking up.

Your sex life is nonexistent, Harper grinned. The sheets on your bed have been pressed more times than your ham ever was.

But I’m still your boss, Creep Face, Carole grinned. Why did I get a call from a California Chief of D?

He wants to shag Carla, Harper grinned. He thinks she’s funny and hot. He must have seen her ad on the Boner Bob Channel. Too bad there won’t be enough left of her to pork after December.

Boy got good taste, Carla grinned. Didn’t ask to stick his tongue in your stupid flat ass, did he?

I would never let a man do that to me, Harper huffed, looking up. I’m pure.

Yeah, and I’m the Virgin Martha. Your ass been on more men’s faces than Barbasol shavin’ cream.

What? Harper shrieked. Why, you cheap two dollar prostitute. How dare you say that about me?

Enough, Carole said. Neither one of you can match my devastating beauty.

Fuck you, Carla grinned.

Eat me, Harper giggled.

Well, now that we’ve gotten the formalities out of the way, let’s try some police work. You two assholes are capable of that, aren’t you?

If we feel like it, Harper pouted. We’re Chiefs now. We’re like you; we don’t really have to do anything, she grinned.

I want this woman rung up the ladder. Send somebody to California.

Bell, Carla said.

What? Carole said.

Rung up the bell, Carla said.

No, stupid, it’s.....never mind. You wouldn’t understand with your limited IQ, Harper giggled. You are so stupid. Who can we send?

You, Carla nodded. In a fuckin’ box if y’all keep talkin’ shit about me.

I don’t like California, Harper snapped.

Who does? Carole giggled. I know, we’ll send Vito and Wang Shu, and we’ll stay here and eat pizza. That should be good for a few laughs.

First damn good decision y’all made in ten years, Carla nodded. I want my spaghetti and meatballs.

Girls rule, Carole said as she called Salerno’s. Fuck the Town Manager.

I bet Carla already did, Harper giggled.

Harry Richards, Carole sighed. The most honest man I have ever known. He wouldn’t even go into the greenhouse in high school with............. never mind. Go get paper plates and napkins.

T’was you, wasn’t it, Pixie, Carla grinned. With them little nylons and that trainin’ bra that made the boys think they got a young ‘un. Boys like that shit; underage school girl in pigtails and a short skirt suckin’ a lollypop, and...... never mind. I do not know anything about that. It were a dream, I swear.

Right, Harper smiled. A wet one, I bet. Go get the plates and napkins.

Carla came back and handed Harper her plate and silverware. A Kotex was on the plate.

What the hell is this? she shrieked.

That be a napkin, Carla grinned. Nobody said what kind.

Asshole, Harper said as she stuffed the Kotex into her bag. Think you’re funny, don’t you.

Y’all gonna keep that? Carla grinned. You expectin’ a friend to come visit?

It won’t be you, Miss Gang Bang, Harper smiled.

Least I ain’t gonna have a yard of cotton up my twat next week, Carla said. Why don’t you buy one of them baby crib mattresses and shove that up your hole? Ought to be a perfect fit.

Why, you loathsome, flea bitten zoo escapee, Harper hissed. I’m going to remember you said that when I get you in the ring.

I got five words about that..... three wins, one loss.

That’s four words, stupid, Harper giggled. You are like so retarded.

This is great, Carole said. I make you two idiots Chiefs, and I have so sit here and listen to you talk about the size of Harper’s hole.

Didn’t that Art Bell dude talk about that? Carla grinned.

That was Mel’s Hole. It was allegedly in Washington State on his property. Like yours, it had no bottom, she snickered. He dropped like 16 miles of fishing line into it. Nobody really knows where it is, of course, nor do they know where Mel Waters is. Probably a hoax. Get those two dummies plane tickets, and wait for the EPA alert when they put Vito through security.

American Airlines Flight 624

Hartford, Connecticut to Los Angeles, California

October, 2006

––––––––

You smell like dog shit! Wang Shu yelled. Why you no take shower?

Shaddup, you gook bastard, Vito grinned. I smell like  a real Italian. I bet Lorenzo does, too. 

He smell good or I kill him, Wang Shu leered. "He take shower every