Treasure Trove

I promised to share the treasure trove of childhood ramblings and I'm finally finding a spare hour to be able to get to it. As far as I can tell - this short story was crafted by my 6th, 7th or 8th grade self. (That's a guess based on handwriting.) I am going to keep all the original spelling and will probably have to break this up into several installments.

Warnings:

-Even though I came in second in the all-school spelling bee in 8th grade... I'm atrocious at spelling.

-During this period of my life I was reading a lot of Mary Higgins Clark. Scratch that. I read every book that woman wrote one summer. If you've read any of her work you will find some similarities here.

-I haven't read this story all the way through before posting it. I'm just going for it.

"36 Hours till DAYBREAK"

Houston, TX. Wednesday, January 12 at 2:45pm

"Hobby Airport please, and quick"

The tall, imposing, brunet barked out the order as she closed the door of the taxi she had called for over 30 minutes ago. Her flight left at 3:30, if she didn't make it her whole evening would be ruined. Blair Stevens was not late for anything. Blair pulled out her compact and brushed through her hair. She tried to smoothe out the wrinkles of her black skirt. Her outfit was one large oven. The bright red button down sweater and black sweater skirt combo had become suicide on the warm winter Houston day. It was already 67 outside and now there was traffic on I45. How there could be a traffic at 2:45 she didn't know. Blair pulled out her cell phone to call her boss.

"Hi Janet, this is Blair Stevens, could you put me through to Kurt?"

The reply came stiffly over the breaking connection.

"Mr. Phillips is not to be bothered, but if you would like I will give him a message."

"Oh sure, tell him the last leg of my story is being finished tonight and that I will be flying home tomorrow."

"It sure will be nice to have you back Mrs. Stevens."

"Thank you Janet. Goodbye."

"Bye."

The dial tone rang in her ear as she looked out at the buildings. Of course they couldn't compare to New York City, but after telecommuting and traveling to Houston every two weeks for two years she sure would miss it. Blair was a television journalist working for ABC about two years ago. She had been given a story that was going to rock America at its heart. Now, tonight she would be interviewing her last source. Without him she had no story.

"Mam."

Blair opened her eyes to find she was at Hobby airport. She quickly grabbed her purse and handbag as the taxi driver gave her luggage to the porter. She paid the taxi and rushed to the gate. When she got there, the last of the passengers were just getting on. As she boarded a sense of relief came over her. As she fell into a deep sleep hearing the vague sounds of the captain welcoming everyone on their non-stop flight to Dallas. It was now 3:42pm.

Dallas, TX Wednesday, January 12 at 3:45pm

"What do you think chief?"

"Well - it looks to me like we got ourselves one heck of a hit-man, Miller. Some heavy dough was put into this one. The son of a... well... the poor dead guy has a wife and a little girl. He was only 35. He didn't even know what was coming. This guy was shot through his car window as he was pulling out to go to work, or it looks that way. His wife was bringing the kids home from school and they find this."

"Do we know where the guy who shot him was when he did this?"

"It looks like he drove past in his car and shot, but there's nothing to prove it."

The tall, balding police chief left to go inside to speak to the wife.

"This has to be getting to him," thought Sergeant Miller. The Sgt turned to spot the medical examiner.

"Hey Frank, boy have I got a story about this dead guy."

. . . . .

I know. You're just as excited as I am to find out what's going to "rock the heart of America" and if this heck of a hit man has anything to do with it. Deep breaths. I may not have even finished the story. Who knows? Perhaps the chief or Sergeant Miller. My guess is that only Mrs. Blair Stevens -telecommuting journalist for ABC who pays porters to lift her bags - really knows.

(P.S. I think I would like to read a running commentary on this story by Valerie. Anyone else with me?)