DEAR ROSALYN
By: David A. Nieman
Today is the birthday of an old man. For the first time in his long life, Mike Mulligan has realized that his time on earth may be nearing the end. Through all the years lost, and memories forgot; one particular memory still haunts his dreams today. Other things have faded from his mind; in fact lots of things have faded, but not his recollection of the incident in Horseshoe Flats, Oregon. Of all the blurry images of the past, this is the most focused. This he remembers as if it was only yesterday.
The day started out beautifully. The sun was elevated high in the sky and not a cloud could be seen for miles. The predicted weather called for sunshine and warm temperatures. The clouds slowly formed from thin air, almost as if a hole in the atmosphere opened up and the clouds slipped through. The clouds had an alien look to them, appearing to be made of black and gray stone. The storm almost seamed to be alive as well. Despite the apparent size of the storm it only spilled it guts over Horseshoe Flats. Outside of town, the sun was shining and the weather was warm.
Lt. Michael Mulligan's break was cut short that day by a phone call from the local busybody. The residents of Horseshoe Flats knew her only as Ms. Florantine.
'Mike a call just came in about lights in the old abandoned place up on Rox ST,'� said Dan, Mike's partner and best friend.
'Ah probably some teenagers looking for kicks, I wouldn't worry about it Dan, thanks,'� Mike said.
'Yeah probably right, but Ms. Florantine called it in. If she doesn't see a cruiser on the hill within the hour she is going to call back.'� The persistent pounding of the rain continued as a crash of thunder, seemed to shake the police department off its foundation.
'So let her call, it gives the nosy old broad something to do,'� said Mike.
'Mike'�she will just keep calling, you know that.'�
'Ms. Florantine'� she just won't quit.'� Mike sighed, 'I better go myself then I can tell her there's nothing to worry about'�
'Better be careful boss, she lost her daughter you know.'�
'That was fifteen years ago Danno.'�
'Yeah but it was like yesterday for her she will never let it rest, she still thinks'�WHAT WAS THAT!'� Dan shouted.
'Feeeeeeewuuupzzzzzzzzzzzzzeeeeeewuuup! The noise came again as all the lights in the town went out. Mike placed his hand on the telephone and counted aloud 'One, two, thr'�'�
'Ring'�
'She's getting faster Sir.'� Dan Olsen said with a smile.
'Horseshoe Flats Police Department this is LT. Mulligan speaking.'�
An old raspy voice came from the other end of the line. It was Ms Florantine. It had a snooty tone. Mike just pictured her sitting in her wide lavender armchair with her nose held up to the heavens. This is one lady who would drown if she walked outside tonight. She would be wearing an old grungy, worn out, paisley housedress the color of roasted chestnuts. She would also be wearing a pair of maroon fluffy slippers. These were also worn out. She pushed her gold wide rimmed bifocals up farther on her nose.
'MULLIGAN, what's going on down there!?! Don't you guys ever do any actual police work? Jeez laweeze!'� she barked.
'Yes, Ms. Florantine, we will get right on it, but it just happened you know. Stay inside and we will handle this'� Mike said.
'What just happened? Are the Japs attacking again?'� Mrs. Florantine said.
'No the Japs are not attacking Ms. Florantine.'� Dan started to laugh, but was cut short when the lights flickered and then went back out again.
'Well why don't you get out there and find out what is happening!'�
'We will, just be patient.'� Mike said.
'That's what Fred said when my daughter went missing, and they made him captain! I suppose your next in line Mulligan, now you hear me and you hear me good. My husband didn't die fighting for this country so you retards can fiddle fuddle with descent taxpayer's money!'�
'Ms. Florantine we are doing the best we can, and those taxpayers you speak of, believe we are doing a good job, so stay inside while we try to figure this out.'�
'While you are out trying to do your job don't forget to check the house on Rox ST. Just remember I can see it from my porch so you better'�'�
The phone line went dead with a high-pitched squeal, forcing mike to tear the phone from his ear. Mike let out a long exasperating breath.
'Well, we need to keep her happy'� Carter, you and Lenny go check out the lines to see if you can find a tree on it or something. Then maybe if the power company decides to show up, we can let them know were the break is. Danno you're coming with me, no sense in staying here with no power or phones. At least we can use the radios in the cars.'�
The officers grabbed there caps and turned for the door.
'Hey, why don't you two grab yourselves a cup of joe for the road? May as well, it won't stay hot with the power out'�come on Dan.'� Said Mike
'Yes sir.'� Dan said.
'Don't sir me we've been friends forever. Come on Danny, we have to check out that house.'�
Upon arrival at the Rox street house, the rain receded to a light drizzle. Dan couldn't help but notice that the clouds had stopped moving. The one story house was well over a hundred years old. It no longer stood upright; it was sagging to the right at almost forty degrees. The clapboard siding was falling off in several places, leaving holes you could look into the house through. The once bright red paint has since disappeared and instead has been replaced with the ash gray color of weathered wood. There was no glass left in any of the windows. The ones that weren't busted by time were taken care of by the local kids and large stones. Several lay on the ground near the house. There were marks in the clapboard where the stones probably hit missing the windows.
'Hey, Mike, look at that.'� Dan pointed to a set of clouds that were now circling the house. The huge thunderheads pulsed, expanding and contracting, they appeared to be breathing. The wind blew back and fourth stimulating this feeling. Then they swelled to twice their prior size, holding for a while, almost in a sense of self-pride. Although Mike couldn't be sure, he thought the closest one might be smiling at him'�beckoning him, perhaps inviting him to enter the house. The clouds then returned to their previous rythmatic convulsions. The rain began to come down in steady sheets of alternating strengths. The pounding of the rain matched Mike's hurried heart rate. This gave him the sensation of being inside a living creature. Perhaps he was.
'Weird, well'� come on, we got work to do.'�
The officers grabbed their flashlights and entered the house. The floorboards creaked in agony under there weight. The smell of rot was so overpowering it almost gagged the officers. Their stomachs hitched, their lungs burned, and their heartbeats raced. Struggling to keep down there lunches was not only difficult, but also very painful. Dan put his shirt over his mouth and nose to filter out the smell of the old house. When Mike saw this he laughed thinking of someone's reaction to a bad fart. His laughter brought forth another attack of involuntary spasms. His eyes burned as if he were cutting onions. Both officers swept the room with wide beams of light. They split up and searched the house. In the bedroom Mike found an old moldy mattress that has since fallen to the floor from the broken bed frame. The closet was open and a few shirts still hung there. The moth eaten flannels crumbled, as Mike touched them. The shirts were not expensive, yet the formality of them led Mike to believe the previous resident was a businessman. A mouse scurried across the closet floor and Mike kicked at it, when he did a few floorboards popped up. He shined his light down the crack in the floorboards, half expecting to see dirt.
Some of the old houses in the town were just thrown up by the early settlers. The town was built almost overnight. It was a pit stop for those headed west during the Great Expansion. Meant as a place to stock the wagons and re-shoe the horses the town was named in this respect. These make shift shelters scattered the countryside. They were nothing more than shacks sitting on top of the ground. The wind blew them around the hills during the big storms.
Mike did see the earth he had expected, but he also saw something else. Partly covered by the undisturbed soil was a fake leather notebook. It was the small diary kind with a snap on the front to hold it closed. Mike picked up the notebook and realized it was a diary. On the inside cover was a gold embossed inscription that read:
'For my loving daughter, on her birthday.
This personal diary can be your escape from the world.
Use it well, and enjoy its power
-MOM'
On reading the last line the storm seamed to intensify. Thinking it was only his imagination Mike started to thumb through the diary slowly. It contained memoirs of boys who looked at her (the owner) a certain way. Boys she looked at a certain way and the responses she received, also all your typical young girl gossip stuff. Mike guessed the girl was about 16 or 17. As he flipped through the pages the storm did toughen. There was no putting it out of his mind this time. He knew it was gaining strength, and against all reasoning, believed it had something to do with what he found. The pounding of the rain hit in spurts giving the storm a heart beat which seamed to beat harder and faster with each turn of the page. The winds began to heave and ho almost breathing. The house seamed to be moving back and forth with the wind, like a boat on water. Suddenly the rocking of the house and the pounding of the rain ceased'�interrupted.
'OH GOD!! MIKE!!! MIIIIIIIKKKE!!!'� Dan screamed from the adjacent room.
Mike ran to the dining to help his partner. Gripping tighter on the notebook, Mike expected to find Dan hurt by the storm. Stepping into the room Mike was overcome by the beauty he found here. The floor was polished teak, which was still shiny after all these years. Brass lanterns lined the walls and the adjacent hallway. What was left of a stained glass window faced the south, overlooking the rolling field. Mike was brought back to reality by another scream form Dan
'What is it Danno?'� but then he saw it. In the middle of the dining room hung an old crystal chandelier; it was accented with brass and silver. In each of the pieces of crystal set a hand dipped candle. From the chandelier hung a nineteen-year-old girl with lacerations on her wrist, ankles, and neck where she was strung up from an old curtain. She had dried bloodstains on her mouth and nose, and there was a small pool of drying blood on the floor below her. Her pretty face was slightly bloated. Her white shirt stained with blood was almost torn off. She wore no bra, and her pants were pulled down to her ankles. Mike thinks back to his niece, she is about that age'�how can anyone be so cold hearted.
Even through all the evident evil that had been performed here, Mike couldn't help notice how beautiful she was. Her long golden locks hung down to the small of her back. She had been very athletic judging by the almost perfect shape of her young body. Mike did not see her as she was now; he saw her flashing her bright blue eyes and a dazzling smile revealing movie star white teeth. Then he did see her and he shielded his eyes with shame. Mike radioed for backup and an ambulance.
After the body was removed and the reporters were dealt with, Dan and Mike needed a second look at the house to line up some possible suspects. So early the next mourning they set out for the crime scene. The storm still hung overhead, and the sky was as dark as night. They found a Cleveland Indians Baseball Cap, but no fingerprints. Mike then pulled out the notebook and started reading it. He then proceeded to tell Dan how he found it.
'I don't get it Mike, who puts on gloves before they rape someone? And then has the brains to take them with him'�
'Evidently he didn't want to be caught.'�
'But is it common not to find prints in a rape and murder case?'�
'Nope.'�
'Mike look at me I'm lost here what's going on.'� Mike tossed the book aside, almost annoyed, and looked at Dan.
'Mike look,'� Dan whispered softly as he pointed at the discarded notebook. The pages were fluttering wildly; the book rose into the air and spun as the pages continued to quiver. The storm grew larger and stronger as the pages fluttered. Lights in houses up and down the streets flashed on and off. Several pages fell to the floor and rearranged the letters on the top page. The letters spelled out 'I can help.'�
'Whoa, that's freaky I'm out a here Mike.'�
'No wait this is neat,'� Mike said, hiding his own terror, and then speaking to the diary he asked, 'Who are you?'� The pages fluttered again and this time the message said, 'Guess'�
'I don't know help us.'� Mike said. This time no fluttering of the pages occurred. Whatever it was, that had been there, was gone.
'Now what?'� asked Dan
'We need to find out whose book this is,'� Said Mike.
'You don't actually believe in this crap?'�
'I believe my eyes Danno, I believe my eyes.'� When leaving the house they bumped into Ms. Florantine.
'I saw you guys take a girl out of here last night. Is she OK?'� she said. Dan and Mike just looked at each other. 'She's dead isn't she?'� the diary fell from Mike's pocket. 'What is that? It looks familiar.'�
'It's just a diary we found in the house,'� Said Mike.
'Rosalyn'�'� Ms. Florantine said thinking.
'We have everything under control mam, go on home.'� Said Dan kindly
'Rosalyn'� that is what Suzanne called her diary.'�
'I thought that was your daughter's name.'�
'It is,'� (not it was) 'I called her Curley Sue, like most mothers with daughters named Sue I guess,'� Said Florentine.
'Rosalyn, I thought that was the owner's name'�.'�
'Do the entries start off Dear Rosalyn?'� asked Ms. Florentine. Mike looked in the diary and sure enough they did. Ms. Florantine identified the handwriting; the diary belonged to her lost daughter Suzy.
Now that they new who the rightful owner of the diary was, they had to find out what it had to do with the recent murder, and if Suzy was talking to them from the other side, how; and what did she have to do with this case?
'I left my flashlight in the house Danny, come help me find it will ya? We will be in touch Ms. Florantine.'� The two officers went inside the house.
'Mike your lights in your belt'�
'I know but the diary asked us to guess; now we know.'� Speaking to the empty space Mike asked, 'Suzy are you here?'� No answer Mike dropped the book and asked the question again. The pages fluttered, the storm intensified, and the lights up and down the street flashed, and this time it read 'Mom'�
'Ms. Florantine is your mom, we know, how can you help us?'� asked Dan. This time a voice came instead of the fluttering.
'I was here, I saw it,'� the voice seamed very distant. It broke up a bit like that of a poor cell phone signal. The voice was young, sweet, and innocent. Through this she sounded very sad.
'Saw what Suzy,'� Asked Mike.
'He he hur-hu-hur-hurt her'� came the voice from the diary.
'Who hurt her?'�
'I don't know h-e was ooo-l-dd'�
'How old,'� asked Dan.
'fii-fttt-ee'� said Suzy through the diary.
'What did he look like?'� asked Mike.
'Like Daaa-nno'� Mike and Dan looked at each other in confusion. Dan turned back to the diary lying on the filthy floor. Still looking at Dan, Mike asked,
'What do you mean?'�
'I don't know I'm looo-st, HELP!'�
'Suzy'�Suzy'�Suzy!'� An answer never came.
'Mike how are we going to explain this?'� asked Dan.
'I don't know, but let's start looking for someone who looks like you,'� Replied Mike.
After going through the computer files, in the car, they found no one that fit the description given by the ghost from within the diary. The young girl's autopsy took a week, and they found a piece of blue cloth under her fingernails. Oddly it was the same color as their uniforms. The power and the phones were still out.
'Hay Danno can I talk to you for a minute?'� asked Mike.
'Sure Mike what's up?'�
'Well, it would be Fred's job to do this, but he is still on vacation so can I ask you some questions?'�
'Oh no'� no, no, no, no, I didn't do it, I was here when the call came in, remember?'�
'I know, I trust you, it's just'� she said he looked like you.'�
'I know, I was there, and because the cloth looks like our uniforms I become suspect number one,'� Dan said in a smart aleck tone, 'hey wait a minute you weren't in uniform that day'� remember?'�
'Hey yeah, so it could just be a cop. We need to go back!'� The officers returned to the house and learned, from Suzy and the diary, that a cop with no name badge committed the crime. He had blocked Suzy's view of his face so she didn't know who it was. He had used the ball cap to smother the girl.
Now who could have done it? The captain was in China so that ruled him out, Lenny always liked the Cleveland Indians, but so did Fred. After questioning Lenny they were pretty sure he didn't do it, but he brought up John Carter who stole his Cleveland Indians hat three nights before the murder.
'Well I guess we question Carter then huh Mike?'�
'No, Fred will be back tomorrow we will let him know how far we got, and let him question him. I'm tired of the dirty looks from the others.'�
'Okay see you in the morning.'� Mike couldn't help but think about Carter. To mike, he just didn't seam like the murderous type. He was loyal to the force, and always donated to charities for kids. Lenny on the other hand seamed a more possible candidate. He was smart but had no common sense; he didn't picture him putting on gloves. Then there was Fred, captain of the station. He was a crooked cop and everyone knew it, taking bribes, and getting away with drunk driving. But rape and murder seams a little out of his league. Then there was Danno, his best friend, the ghost said it looked like him. Sure he was at the station when the call came in, but could he have had someone else put the body there? Then there was the ball cap. Dan was not a sports fan. Lenny had the morning off that day, and Fred was in China. Mikes cell phone rang; it was Dan.
'Hello'�
'Mike, when did you say Fred was coming back?'�
'Tomorrow afternoon, which reminds me I'm supposed to pick him up from the airport why?'�
'When I drove by his place tonight his lights were on.'�
'Are you sure?'�
'Yeah, I know they were off last night. That's not all I seen them on a couple other times too. I never thought anything of it.'�
'What are you saying, Danno?'�
'We ruled Fred out because he was on vacation; well he has been in town.'�
'How can he have power?'�
'I think he has a generator in his garage.'�
'So now what Dan?'�
'We Question him.'�
'O.K. we do it together.'�
Still in uniform both officers drove the cruiser towards the captain's home. They parked two houses away and walked up the front walk. Mike signaled Dan to stay put, while he walked around the back of the house. Peering in the kitchen window he saw Fred flipping through a pile of small papers on the kitchen table. Fred was in a bathrobe and looked as though he just took a shower. The small overhead light illuminated his face, as he sat down at the table. He did have a generator. The light reflected in his eyes giving them a sort of metallic look. From this angle Fred did not look human. Coming back around the front of the house he met Dan. Dan had his gun drawn and was down on his knees.
'What's wrong Dan?'�
'I just got a weird feeling'� he said.
Just then the storms ferocious power came back to life. The clouds circled Fred's house and this time Mike was positive he saw them smiling at him, but the smile was calming-soothing. Beckoning him to enter once more, Mike also pulled his gun. He nodded his head and Dan opened the door slowly. When they entered the kitchen, Fred had his head stuck in the refrigerator. There was an empty beer on the sink. Perhaps he was going for another. Dan and Mike slowly approached the table. Sitting here next to a ring of condensation, possibly from the cold beer bottle, was about two-dozen Polaroid's. All of them contained dead girls, except one. One was of the girl they just found. The one that bothered Mike the most was a picture of Suzy. She was in a large animal cage. She was crying, and had a split lip. In his minds eye he saw Fred slapping the young girl, and then laughing in pleasure. He had no idea his captain was so sick.
'FREEZE!'� Dan screamed at Fred. He jumped, and hit his head on the refrigerator shelf hard enough to rock it. Fred slowly turned around. The dim light from within the fridge bathed him. A small river of blood flowed from the top of his head, and down his cheek. Mike did not feel the least bit sorry for him. 'We are taking you in Fred.'�
'What for?'� Fred whimpered.
'You know,'� Dan said, nodding toward the table.
'I can explain that! I'�'�
'SHUT UP!! You can explain in court!'� Mike shouted. The two officers cautiously approached their captain. Dan hit him with the butt of his revolver; Fred hit the floor knocked unconscious. Mike cuffed him with a tear in his eye, for this man, this monster was someone he had trusted. After gathering the evidence, Mike and Dan carried out their suspect.
After Fred was locked up, the storm really strengthened, it seamed to focus its power on the station. As the lightning continuously struck outside, a sudden drowsiness came over the friends. Unable to fight it, the officers slipped into a deep sleep. When they woke Fred was dead. The storm was gone, not a cloud could be seen. The birds sang once more, and Mike realized how much he really missed their sweet tune. The sun flowed though the office window, showering the fresh cadaver. The sun was shining and the weather was warm.

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