White Space Season 1

place, idiot burglars aside. A quiet seaside town, artsy community, people with money, but without all the bullshit you’d find in Ocean County. Most of all, though, Houser missed having someone to hang out with on duty while killing the tedious boredom. Chan was one of his closest friends back in the day. Now, he spent much of his time waiting for people to do stupid shit while he stared at his iPad.
    Houser had been working for himself for seven years, building his agency with three other investigators, and was now taking only the jobs he wanted to take. He was in the best position of his life, was making good money, ridiculous sometimes, and providing two other investigators with regular work. But there were times when he missed his work having any real meaning beyond catching a cheating spouse or someone for insurance fraud. He rarely had the chance to help real people in need.
    Sure, he helped people protect their assets, and insurance companies reclaim their money, but he wasn’t nailing violent criminals, solving murders, or any of the other things Chan did on a daily basis.
    Of course, if you asked Chan how he felt about his job most days, he’d probably say he was frustrated that they couldn’t do more to help people. Annoyed that more often than not, the bad guys walked, or the cops got there too late, or there wasn’t anything they could do to protect abused kids or spouses.
    Then there was the Cecilia Ramirez case. The one that crushed him. That one that still plagued his nightmares.
    No, can’t go back to that.
    He put his pointer on his iPad, flicked another bird at the pigs, and decided he was just fine doing this for the next decade, if need be.
    After 10 more minutes of bird flinging, Houser’s phone rang. It was Jon Conway.
    “Whatup, Jonny Hollywood,” Houser said.
    “I’m never in the mood for that. And never less than now.”
    Jon sounded pissed.
    Houser laughed. There probably wasn’t a rich fucker in the world he liked more than Jon. Jon was richer than all of them. He had manners, over-paid, and was always happy to take Houser exactly as he came. “Okay, Jon , how may I help you today?”
    “You busy?”
    Houser looked over at the house, then shook his head to himself. “Well, I guess it depends on your definition of busy. I’ve got cases coming out of my ass, but every one of them’s boring as shit. You call to bring some excitement into my life?”
    “Can you come to Hamilton Island?”
    “Hamilton Island? I said I want excitement, not retirement. What the hell you doing back home? The old man die or something? I didn’t see shit on the news about it.”
    “No, but there’s a missing girl.” After a pause, Jon added. “My daughter. How soon can you get here?”
    Houser kept his questions to himself since he could tell by Jon’s voice he didn’t want to talk about it, at least not over the phone. “Gonna fly me first class?”
    “Have I ever not?”
    “No, but I like busting your balls, Jon.” Houser laughed again. “I’ll be on the next flight, even if it’s coach, and swim across the channel if I have to. You can count on me.”
    “I know. That’s why I’m calling,” he said. “I’m staying at the Sands of Time Hotel.”
    “Anything else I should know? Maybe look into while flying?”
    “No,” he said. “See you in a few hours. Just keep the daughter thing to yourself, of course.”
    “Of course,” Houser said.
    “Thank you,” Jon said.
    “You’re welcome. See you soon.”
    Houser hung up, then turned to the teddy bear in the cop uniform riding shotgun. “Well, buddy, we said we were bored. Shit’s about to get interesting again.”

    * * * *

CHAPTER 3 — Milo Anderson

    Hamilton Island, Washington
    Thursday
    September 7
    10:24 a.m.

    Heller turned from the whiteboard, toward the classroom – face clammy and eyes bloodshot, hands shaking as he turned his head back and forth.
    He looked down at his desk again, hands on either side of his briefcase, then pulled out a pistol.
    Amber Riley screamed as students gasped around her.
    Heller aimed the gun and fired, shooting Tommy Hopkins in the face.
    Jessica ran toward him, eyes wide like her mouth.
    Milo wanted to protect her, but Heller was faster.
    Milo tried to speak but the gunshot murdered his voice, and Jessica. Blood pooled across her powder blue sweater.
    Manny was shot in the stomach, laying on the carpet, twitching, eyes glassy.
    Heller came toward Manny, gun shaking in his hand.