REALMS OF POSSIBILITY

By M. D. Ironz

REALMS OF POSSIBILITY is the second volume in THE STEWARD series. Folklore and fantasy enmesh with physics and forensics.

Stacy, once missing through the Grand Portal, is back. Ellen must reconcile what happened. After all, no one knew what to expect delving into the Realm of Shadow.

What secrets do the other accessible realms hold?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Professorial Holdings
• Release date: Mar 13, 2019
• ISBN: 9781733759410

M. D. Ironz

M.D. Ironz is the pseudonym of a former government official, based in an undisclosed location in North America, and now serving as a confidential consultant on matters of intelligence, security, and investigations.

Book preview

CH 1

MOM! WE’RE HOME!

Her cat in her arms, Ellen Doyle held the screen door open for the dogs to slip inside.

She motioned for her tired friends to precede her. Go on in. I’m sure my mom is around somewhere.

They trooped in through the back door and plopped down on the assorted chairs surrounding the kitchen table. The Chow Chows, Max and Sophie, went directly to their dog bowls and began lapping up water. Smokey, the cat, leapt from Ellen’s arms to the tabletop and sniffed at its surface.

I’m in here, answered her mother, Millie, from deep in the pantry. She peered around the pantry door to see Ellen, Hawk, Mark, and lost and found Stacy sprawled around the table like happy, yet exhausted, marionettes.

For an instant Millie’s breath caught; then she sighed heavily. Oh, thank goodness y’all are home!

Ellen could see that relief and gratitude could not quite displace the gulf of worried concern that had haunted her mother through the night. Ellen reached out and pulled her mother into a firm hug.

It’s okay, Mom. We’re good; we got Stacy back.

So I see; come here, you. Millie opened her arms to hug Stacy as well.

Releasing them, Millie nodded to Mark and Hawk.

"Well? Is everyone all right? And just where have you people been? Millie demanded, but then pointed to Smokey. Ellen, please get your cat off the kitchen table!"

We’re fine, Mom, Ellen assured her mother, grabbing up Smokey and putting him on the floor. We’re just tired, and hungry. Everything is all right. Do you mind if we just rest and have some coffee? That’d be great.

All right, I’ll put on a fresh pot. Her curiosity held temporarily in check, Millie started lining up mugs on the counter. However, she didn’t relent.

"You know y’all got some explaining to do. I swear, the next time you stay out all night and don’t even bother to call—not that I didn’t try to call you, mind you. All I got were recorded messages saying the cellular customer is outside the coverage area or some such. No cell coverage? That’s not gonna work. I think we’ll need to get a landline phone for that cabin, especially if you’re going to spend the night there. For all I knew, someone could’ve been hurt, lying in a ditch or . . . Oh brother, I don’t mean to fuss so—don’t mind me. I’m just glad everyone’s home safe and sound."

"I’m sorry, Mom, but it wasn’t possible to call you. Not from where we were, because it wasn’t the cabin, remember? Believe me when I say that we are, uh, very glad to be back home."

Oh, you mean that portal thing? Millie sniffed. "Well, I’m sorry, too. I don’t mean to be such a worrywart; but I was getting really concerned. If I hadn’t heard from you by noon today, I was thinking I might call the sheriff’s office—but then what could I say? Nobody there knows about all this stuff, do they?"

No ma’am, Hawk answered, gently shaking his head. Nobody else knows. Calling my office could have been a problem for me. I’m glad you didn’t.

Me, too, mumbled Ellen, as she distributed spoons and placed a cream cruet and a sugar bowl on the table.

Millie poured coffee in the mugs and set them on the table. Taking a seat across from her daughter, she wagged a finger. Okay, young lady, start explaining.

Ellen sipped her coffee. I’ll give you a quick synopsis, and then everyone can help fill in the details, okay?

Heads around the table bobbed.

Well, like I told you before we left yesterday afternoon, Stacy was lost—through a portal; although Mark and Hawk had a hard time accepting that, at least until I showed them how it works.

Mark and Hawk shared a glance of chagrin.

Anyway, Ellen continued, we went through the portal, too, and tracked Stacy through the Realm of Shadow. We wound up dealing with the Lady Leanan, who’s a member of the ruling house of the realm—and a vampire!

"What—a vampire?" Millie echoed incredulously.

Ellen sipped her coffee and nodded. Yeah, a vampire. I know how that sounds; but it’s true! Ask Mark or Hawk.

Mark just nodded sheepishly.

Hawk dropped a hand on Mark’s shoulder and said, Ellen, you left out the part about Mark’s encounter with another vampire, Damien. Oh, sorry man, how’s that shoulder?

Mark scowled at the detective and mumbled, Ah, that’s just another story we’ll get into later—no big deal.

Ellen spared her cousin a wry smirk. Yeah, okay, later if you like . . . Anyway, since Lady Leanan was looking for this guy, Salidar, who was apparently with Stacy, we agreed to work together. We stayed overnight in Lady Leanan’s castle—yeah, she has a real one.

Hawk added, Oh yeah, that’s where Mark got to deal with another vampire, Lady Sabrina, didn’t you?

Mark winced. Don’t remind me. Her familiar, Gunther, was a problem that you had to deal with, right?

"A familiar? What’s that?" Millie asked.

Mark grinned at Hawk. "Something like a vampire’s servant, but obsessed, right?"

Uh, yeah. Hawk looked down. But like you said, that’s another story.

How about you guys let me finish? Ellen asked.

Please, go on, Millie urged.

Right. So, first thing this morning, Lady Leanan’s staff told us that a nobleman’s patrol had found Stacy near this forest and brought her to the castle; so, we collected her and came home. That’s pretty much the headlines.

Millie leaned back in her chair. So all of you actually were in another realm, or what—another universe? Portals really work? Is this the sort of thing that your doctor’s husband, the physicist, was talking about, Ellen?

Ellen could only shrug. You mean Zack; and yeah, I think so.

My word. If that’s the headlines, I’m looking forward to the details. Millie looked to Stacy. What about you, dear, what can you tell us about what happened to you?

Stacy shook her head. Not much, I’m afraid. For some reason, there’s a lot I can’t remember. I mean I remember touching the globe—

A transit globe is a portal of sorts, Ellen interjected. There are different types and sizes. Oh, sorry, go on.

Stacy nodded. I somehow went through the globe to the Realm of Shadow; but, I didn’t know how to get back.

Hand to her throat, Millie asked, Weren’t you scared, being alone and all?

Not really, it happened so quickly I didn’t have time to be scared; and, I wasn’t alone for long. The next thing I knew, Smokey was there. I figured Ellen would come looking for me. I waited; but, it was getting dark. So, I started walking toward this inn I’d seen in the globe. On the way, I met this guy, Salidar, and we walked to the inn. I know we got there; but, I don’t remember anything else beyond that, until I was reunited with you guys. I’m sorry.

Oh, no! Millie blurted. He didn’t—

No, no! Stacy threw up her hands. Nothing like that! He was polite—like a gentleman.

Oh, well then, Millie soothed, you weren’t hurt? This is just some sort of amnesia, do you think?

No, I wasn’t hurt. Aside from a gap in my memory, I’m fine, Stacy assured them. However, I’d like to listen to everybody else’s details, if the rest of you don’t mind.

Not a problem at all. Mark took her hand in his. Maybe it’ll help you remember. 

STACY DID LISTEN TO everything, but remained uncharacteristically quiet. The things attributed to Salidar shocked her; this didn’t sound like the man she’d met at all.

He had been responsible for the attack on Ellen? He was a minion of this Lady Diere and may have somehow been involved in Maude’s death?

I am so confused. Just what is it that I can’t remember?

Mark squeezed her hand, the one he’d been holding below the table. Hey, are you all right?

I’m fine. I-I guess I’m just surprised. I’m gonna need some time to digest all this.

He nodded. Yeah, I get that. I think we’re all going to have to adjust, if you know what I mean.

She did know, or at least she thought she did. But something nagged at her, something important she couldn’t remember, at least not at the moment.

AFTER EACH PERSON HAD the opportunity to offer their individual perspective, a contemplative silence settled in the kitchen.

Millie stood, drawing their attention.

All right, I know we’re gonna go over these details some more, but all of you must be hungry, she reasoned. So, I’m gonna fix you a real breakfast—and there’ll be no arguments! Don’t worry, we can still talk. Now, go get cleaned up. Breakfast will be ready before you know it.

ELLEN RETURNED TO THE kitchen, enticed by the savory aroma of another pot of freshly brewed coffee.

Mark and Stacy entered together, followed by the young detective.

As Ellen caught his eye, Hawk smiled at her despite the weary sag of his shoulders. In fact, Ellen realized everyone looked more than a little drawn as they took seats at the table.

Well, after all, it had been a long night.

Ellen nudged Millie. Mom, I’m sure the pets are hungry, too. I’m gonna feed them now.

Okay, dear. I’ve set aside some bacon grease; you can add a little to the dry food in the dogs’ bowls—oh, a little warm water mixed in wouldn’t hurt. You know they like that.

Yeah, they do. I’ll take care of Smokey, too.

Fine, but keep him off the table.

Ellen prepared the dog food and set the bowls before the Chows. They commenced to wolf their bacon grease enhanced breakfast.

Smokey, apparently impatient to be fed, wound himself around Ellen’s ankles while making a guttural rr-rowwll sound.

Ellen opened a can of moist cat food, filled his bowl, and placed it on the floor before him.

Of course, Smokey ignored the food and simply stared up at her.

Resigned, Ellen just shrugged. Now what? Isn’t that just like a cat?

Millie stood with arms akimbo, blew an errant lock of hair from her forehead, and smiled. What’s the matter, Ellen? Did you think he couldn’t smell the bacon grease? You’d better put a little on his food, too.

The cat appeared nonplussed, but kept glancing from the women to his bowl.

Ellen rolled her eyes and chuckled. "My mother, the pets’ favorite chef!"

Hmm, Millie mused, I kinda like the sound of that; after all, dogs and cats are people, too.

Huh? Ellen blinked. What? Dogs and cats are people, too—does she mean like the Were?

Oh, you know, see? Millie pointed to Max and Sophie, standing over their now empty bowls, staring up at her and her daughter. Like little people in fur coats.

Ellen could’ve sworn the dogs were smiling.

Millie turned to the table, where everyone else was seated. Okay folks, breakfast is ready; bacon and eggs, and biscuits `n’ gravy on the counter, buffet style. Get a plate and serve yourselves. I know we still have a lot to talk about, but we can do so while we eat. So, dig in.

No one needed to be told twice. Everyone enjoyed the food.

As the telling and re-telling of details wound down, silence settled over the kitchen once more.

Ellen stood and announced, I’m gonna make some more biscuits. Any takers?

Sounds good to me. I’ll make some more coffee, Mark offered. You just sit a spell, Aunt Millie. We got this.

However, Millie couldn’t just sit a spell while someone was doing something in her kitchen. She  retrieved the cream cruet and refilled it at the counter. As she shut the refrigerator door, a sticky-note  fluttered to the floor. She squinted at her own scrawled note.

Oh Hawk, you need to call your sergeant. He called earlier this morning. Sorry, I forgot; I should’ve told you sooner.

Thanks, Miss Millie. Hawk retrieved his cell phone from his vest. Whoops, I must’ve turned my phone off. Trey knew I was coming over here to help look for Stacy. I forgot to call him, uh, when I could. So, I guess I’m going to hear it from him, too. Now, if you’d excuse me, I’ll make the call outside.

Millie leaned over Mark’s shoulder as he prepared to fill the drip coffee filter. Four scoops are enough for a full carafe; don’t make it too strong. I think all of you are gonna need some sleep, or at least take naps. You didn’t have anything planned for today, did you?

Well, I was gonna work on the truck some—

Oh, the truck! Mark, that reminds me; Madeline, from the bookstore, is stopping by this afternoon to see me. She’s bringing me a book, and the license plate for the truck, too.

Madeline? Mark asked. How did she get the plate?

Well, the attorney, Mr. Fornier, called late yesterday. He said he’d gotten everything straightened out with the state motor vehicle people. He had the paperwork and the license plate. The truck is now registered to the farm.

Oh yeah, Mark recalled, that’s what we decided.

Right. Millie bobbed her head. So, Madeline called to tell me she’d found a copy of an out-of-print book on local herbs, and we talked some. Since she was coming to visit anyway, she offered to stop by the lawyer’s office to pick up the registration papers and license plate.

That’s great, Aunt Millie. Mark poured cool water into the coffeemaker’s reservoir. "I have the truck running pretty well. I’ll need to finish up a few little things and then put some miles on it—you know, a kind of shakedown cruise to double-check everything."

Well, Mr. Fornier said that you’ll still have to have it inspected, and get that little sticker for the windshield.

Oh yeah, right, Mark acknowledged.

Hawk returned to the kitchen and pulled Ellen aside.

She dusted some biscuit mix from her hands and wiped her whitened palms on a dish towel as she followed him inquisitively. What is it, Hawk?

I’m gonna have to go in a bit. Trey and I gotta go to New Orleans; it’s related to a homicide case.

Can’t you stay for a few minutes, at least? The biscuits will be ready soon.

Oh, yeah! He grinned. I can stay for some more biscuits. In fact, I told Trey that your mom fixed us breakfast; I think he’s sorry he wasn’t here.

Well, you could take him some biscuits, you know? she suggested.

That’s a great idea! Um, and maybe some extras—you know, for the road?

She offered a wry smile. Oh, I suppose that could happen. 

Will your mom forgive me if I don’t stick around to help with all the dishes?

Oh, I think she’ll excuse you—just this once, she teased.

The oven buzzer went off; the biscuits were done.

MILLIE HAD LISTENED carefully to everything. There was a lot to digest. She might not show it; but she was almost stunned beyond words.

So much of what she heard was just so unbelievable, but was it, really? It was also quite obvious to her that Ellen, Mark, Stacy, and Hawk—a law enforcement officer, for goodness sakes—had experienced something.

So, until she learned otherwise, Millie decided to believe it—all of it. She intuitively trusted everyone seated at this table, and somehow sensed that there was truth here.

Millie, somewhat prone to sympathetic empathy, watched their faces. She sensed that each person was wrestling with this newly revealed perception of reality. One thing she knew was certain; life as they knew it would be forever viewed differently. She cupped her hands around her coffee mug, its soothing warmth a comfortable reassurance.

Her daughter stood, drawing everyone’s attention.

Listen, I think it would be best, Ellen cautioned, if we kept this information to ourselves for now. After all, who would believe us?

Silent nods of mutual agreement confirmed the inherent wisdom of that strategy.

Hawk glanced at his watch and stood.

Folks, I apologize for having to eat and run, but I have to go to work. Miss Millie, thanks so much for breakfast; it really hit the spot.

Oh, take some biscuits for the road, Ellen reminded him.

Yes, take some, Millie echoed. Ellen made these biscuits, you know. Let me wrap them up for you.

Stacy and Millie smiled at each other as Ellen walked him out.

ON THE FRONT PORCH Hawk paused. Can I call you when I get back?

I’d like that, she smiled.

Me, too. Listen, be careful. I know you’re home now, but be careful anyway.

She continued to smile as she watched him drive away. An unbidden yawn rudely reminded her of just how tired she really was. As she made her way back to the kitchen, she fought another creeping yawn, and lost.

Mom, I’m really beat, Ellen announced, her energy obviously drained. Do you mind if I take a nap?

No problem, sweetie. Millie looked up from the sink and said soothingly, In fact, why don’t you all lie down for a little while. I’m about done here; I’ll just let the dishwasher finish its cycle. Go on now—go take your naps. I have to collect some herbs for Madeline; so, I’ll be in the garden if you need me.

Mark led the way upstairs as Ellen and Stacy followed. Mark entered his room and nodded as he closed the door.

At the door to her room, Stacy started to say something to Ellen, but hesitated.

Ellen looked at her confused friend. What is it?

I don’t know . . . It’s like I have something to tell you; but, I can’t remember what. I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t make any sense. Maybe I’m just tired. Stacy shook her head in frustration.

Ellen yawned once more. "Well, I know I’m tired. Look, just get some sleep; we can talk later. I’m exhausted; I’ve just got to lie down."

Stacy gave her a sad smile, and went into her room.

Within ten minutes, everyone on the second floor was fast asleep.

HAWK DROVE HOME FOR a shower and change of clothes before going into his office. As fate would have it, the home phone rang just as he stepped out of the shower. He debated letting the answering machine catch the call; but, the possibility that it might be Ellen, and that something could be wrong, sent him running for the phone, a towel hastily wrapped around his waist.

A quick glance at the caller ID indicated that Trey was calling, not Ellen. He was strangely relieved and a little disappointed—an unsettling emotional dichotomy, he realized as he picked up the phone.

Hello Trey, you know you just got me out of the shower! Now I’m drippin’ all over the floor. What’s up?

Whoa, that’s a little too much information there, ol’ buddy! Hey, the missing girl, Stacy, you’re sure she’s all right? No medical attention needed?

Yeah, she’s okay—long  story. I’ll tell you later.

Okay, did you get any sleep?

Nah, but I’ll be all right. Had a really good breakfast though—too bad you missed it.

Arrgh! Stop rubbin’ it in! Listen, don’t bother coming in to the office. I’m on my way to your place to pick you up. I’m riding with Sgt. Melancon in one of the CSI units; we’ll be there in about twenty minutes. Pack for two days on the road. We have to be in New Orleans for a case briefing by three o’clock.

Okay, I’ll be ready. Can you give me some idea what’s going on? Hawk’s curiosity was growing.

Not over an unsecured line, cautioned Trey. Just sit tight. We’ll talk on the road.

TRUE TO HIS WORD, WITHIN twenty minutes the unmarked dark blue SUV pulled up before Hawk’s home. Trey got out of the back seat and started up the porch steps.

Before the sergeant could reach the door, Hawk stepped out onto the porch, a stuffed gym bag in one hand and holding out a bag of biscuits in the other.

Here, saved you these from breakfast. Told you I’d be ready. Just let me lock up.

Oh man, smells good! Let’s roll! We’ve got just enough time to make the briefing. Jim Franklin asked to see us there.

Hawk grunted in response as he secured the door.

CSI Tech Cassie Spenser was at the wheel of the SUV; her boss, Sgt. Melancon, was riding shotgun. Trey and Hawk settled into the back seat as Cassie carefully negotiated the long driveway.

Hawk nudged the CSI sergeant on the shoulder and handed him a sealed plastic evidence bag bearing a case number and some abbreviated notations.

Mel held it up to better see a small glass vial that held a sickly fluid of oily dull colors; a loop of evidence tape secured the cap on the vial. He glanced at the young detective for an explanation.

Do us a favor, please, Mel; that needs to be analyzed. I suspect we’ve seen something like this before, Hawk explained. It resembles the substance we found in the syringe in the Doyle case. I have a hunch it’s related.

No problem, Mel assured him. I assume this is the Doyle case number? It may have to wait though, until we’re through with whatever may have to be processed from this search warrant in New Orleans.

Where’d you get it, Hawk? Trey asked, as he offered the bag of biscuits to Mel and Cassie.

"From a reluctant source, responded Hawk cryptically.  I’ll tell you about it later. For now, just bring me up to speed. What search warrant?"

Trey bit into a biscuit, and made his partner wait until he’d swallowed. Damn, these are good! Okay, remember Suzi Origami?

Yeah, the one homicide victim we identified at the crime scene on the rooftop of the casino garage. We have yet to identify the other victim, who was dismembered on a lower floor. Hawk twisted in his seat. We still don’t have that ID, right?

"Not yet, she’s still a Jane Doe, Trey acknowledged. Regarding Suzi, the FAST squad located her apartment in New Orleans and notified us. It was in the name of a holding company that they knew Papa George had a hidden interest in, a silent partner thing—another link to Papa George. We filed an affidavit for a search warrant. Anyway, that’s one of our destinations. Mel and Cassie will drop us off at the Federal Building for our briefing; then, they’ll go on to the search site."

The FAST squad? But how—  Hawk began.

To make a long story short, Trey interrupted, licking a trace of flour off a finger. The sheriff called the U.S. Marshal in Shreveport to formally request their assistance in our homicide case, so the FAST unit based in New Orleans could locate and secure Suzi’s residence. Pursuant to the search warrant, they made entry and initiated a cursory search, for officer safety of course. Now they hold the scene for us; Mel and Cassie will conduct a more comprehensive search.

Wait a minute, Sarge, interrupted Cassie. Mmm, good biscuits, by the way. I grew up in New Orleans, and I know they have a U.S. Marshal there. Why call the one in Shreveport?

Trey rummaged in the bag for another biscuit. Jurisdictional protocols—it’s a different federal court district, a different U.S. Marshal’s primary jurisdiction. Chantilly Parish is in the Western District of Louisiana, and Shreveport is the headquarters office. The New Orleans area is the Eastern District; and the Baton Rouge area is Middle District. Each district has its own federal district courts and judges; each has a U.S. Attorney, and a U.S. Marshal.

Okay, Sarge, I remember all that; we got it in the academy, Cassie said. But that doesn’t explain why the sheriff called Shreveport instead of New Orleans, or am I missing something?

Trey grinned. "Yep, the protocol of politics. Look, Suzi Origami’s body was found at the casino in Chantilly Parish, so the original homicide case is our jurisdiction, which is within the Western District. The proper protocol is to make the request of that U.S. Marshal. Now the Marshals Service has offices all over the place, even overseas, so asking for help from one office opens the doors to all of their resources."

Really, they’re that cooperative? Cassie asked.

"Oh yeah, they’re very cooperative, especially when working with state and local departments. See, most of the Deputy U.S. Marshals are former local and state cops, and/or military. So, that’s a lot of prior personal experience at municipal, state, and international levels. They can easily understand what we have to deal with, see? So, whenever we ask for help, they never say no.

And that brings me back to my original point; we seek assistance through the Western District of Louisiana and we get it wherever we need it, in this case, within the Eastern or Middle Districts of Louisiana, okay?

Yeah, okay, replied Cassie. So, we’re headed to New Orleans, and the way has been smoothed for us. What about the NOPD? Don’t they have a pretty good CSI operation as well?

Indeed they do, agreed Sgt Melancon, "and they’ll be on the scene to assist, but it’s our search warrant. So, we’ll be taking immediate custody of any recovered evidence relating to our homicide. Do you know why?"

Um, because that would minimize the chain of custody of the evidence, especially since the FAST guys, acting on our behalf, have already initiated the search? Cassie offered.

Hmm, observed Trey dryly, Sgt. Melancon, trained well your apprentice, you have.

Oh no, groaned Hawk, "not the wise old master bit again!"

When the laughter subsided, Trey continued. So anyway, when the FAST unit did the initial cursory search, they found computers; a server, a PC, and a laptop. There were lots of removable data storage media, to include flash drives. All appear to be heavily encrypted. At our request, the FAST guys called in their regional IT wizard to have a quick crack at decrypting the drives and storage discs on the scene. They could have sent the stuff to their lab; but this was quicker. Now our CSI team is en route to assume custody and keep the chain to a reasonable minimum.

Oh yeah, I get it, she acknowledged, the chain of custody, again.

Right! So, Cassie, that’s why Hawk and I will attend the briefing this afternoon. We’ll join you and Mel later on the scene of your more comprehensive search of Suzi’s apartment.

Hawk rubbed his chin and looked askance at Trey. They found something, didn’t they? Something on the drives or discs? Something time sensitive? That’s why the rush on this briefing, right?

That sounded more like a statement than a question.

I would think so, agreed Trey, especially since some people from OCDETF have been invited as well. I heard there’s a lead that’s been developed near Lafayette.

They rode in silence for a moment, and then Cassie asked, I know that FAST is the Fugitive Apprehension Strike Team, but OCDETF? That’s the Organized Crime Drug Enforcement Task Force, right? What could they have to do with our homicide case?

Trey shrugged. "We’ll find out for sure at the briefing; for now we can only speculate. See, we’re pretty sure that Suzi did contract wet work for George Papadolis, AKA Papa George; he’s been an OCDETF target for some time. They’ve been trying to build a RICO case—you know, Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organization case, against him and his operations; but, they could never get enough firm evidence for an indictment. There was a cooperating individual who was supposed to roll over on Papa George, but he turned up dead, Fenton Brewster."

Hawk remained quiet and stared out the window.

Cassie suddenly recognized the name. Oh yeah! The prisoner who committed suicide—jumped from the roof of the jail, right?

Suicide? Trey grunted. Maybe—it’s not conclusive, as far as I know. Jones and Barrows have that case. The last I heard they couldn’t find Brewster’s last visitor, some attorney named Salidar. I’ve never heard of him. So, let’s just say that some of us have our doubts.

Hawk just looked at Trey and nodded. He and Trey would have to have a long talk at some point; but, this was