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The Handsome Stranger Chapter One
August 10, 2020
The music alarm sounded loudly in the master bedroom. David Talton slid his arm from underneath the covers and reached for his cellphone on the bedside table. He looked at the screen and slid his index finger across it to silence the alarm. He groaned as he sat up in the bed. The spot next to him was empty. Of course it was. The school year would start soon and she wanted to get accustomed to waking early in the mornings.
He climbed out of the bed and headed to the bedroom door. He grabbed his robe from a chair and pulled it on as he exited the room. He smelled coffee, eggs and bacon drifting through the air from the kitchen. He smiled to himself. His wife was cooking breakfast and that was unusual. He moved through the house and out the front door. He walked to the end of his driveway and picked up the Monroe Daily News newspaper. He removed the rubber band around the paper and looked at the front page. The article on the front page didn’t have his name on the by-line, so he closed the paper and slid it under his arm.
David walked through the front door and walked through the living room and entered the kitchen. His wife, Katy, stood in front of the stove. He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She giggled when he kissed on the base of her neck.
“Good morning, darling,” she said to him. She stood at five feet six inches and she weighed one hundred nineteen pounds. The thirty-three-years-old second grade teacher had red wavy hair and blue eyes. She wore a blue cotton night shirt and shorts with a short pink silk robe.
“You’re up early,” David suggested. He stood at six feet one inch and he weighed one hundred eighty-nine pounds. The thirty-four-year-old writer of the Police Beat column in the Monroe Daily News had black hair and green eyes.
“The new school year starts in a couple of weeks. I need to get used to these early mornings. However, I can’t promise breakfast every morning,” she smiled at him.
“That’s okay. I will take them when I can get them,” he laughed.
“Set the table, breakfast is ready,” Katy said.
Seventeen-year-old Mandy Williams sat at her makeup table. She watched in the mirror on the back of the table while she brushed her hair. She silently counted to one hundred as she brushed the left side of her hair before she began on her right side. She stood at five feet three inches and she weighed one hundred two pounds. The Monroe City High School senior had shoulder-length straight blonde hair and blue eyes. She wore a red and white towel wrapped around her tanned body. A light knock on her bedroom door broke her concentration.
“Come in,” she called as she resumed brushing her hair.
“Breakfast is ready. I made your favorite: strawberries and creme oatmeal with two slices of buttered toast,” her mother from the doorway.
“Wheat toast?”
“Of course. Today is your last day to open The Shoe Store, right?”
“Yes, ma’am. You’re on the evening shift?” Mandy asked her mom.
“Yes. For the next two weeks I will be late coming home.”
“Do you want me to have supper ready for you when you get home?” Mandy finished brushing her hair and began to apply her makeup.
“No. I will stop by the diner on my way home.”
“That’s not healthy, mom,” Mandy called as her mom shut the door.
“I know. Your breakfast is getting cold,” her mother called from the hallway.
Ouachita Parish Sheriff Homicide Detective Herman Barker climbed out of his beige official sedan and slammed the door shut. He cursed under his breath as he walked across the front lawn to two sheriff deputies standing outside the front door of a single story wood framed house. The deputies nodded their heads as he approached them.
“Am I going to hate what I am about to see in there?” Detective Barker asked the deputies. He stood at six feet even and he weighed one hundred ninety-eight pounds. The forty-four-year-old veteran detective had graying brown hair and hazel eyes. He wore gray slacks, a white short sleeve shirt, a black sports coat with gray boots.
“Absolutely,” one of the deputies replied.
“Fucking great. Twenty minutes before my shift is over and I get a shit call. Either of you have gloves and booties?”
The sheriff deputy who stood to the right of the front door handed the homicide detective a pair of latex gloves and cotton booties. Detective Barker slid on the gloves and booties and he entered the house. The living room appeared to be just every living room he’d seen. A couch against one wall, a television mounted on the opposite wall. A coffee table covered with magazines that’s never been read and pictures of the family on the wall. He turned down the hallway and entered the first bedroom on the right.
Two twin beds were positioned parallel from each other. A table separated the head of the bed. He noticed a flatscreen television was mounted in the...
The music alarm sounded loudly in the master bedroom. David Talton slid his arm from underneath the covers and reached for his cellphone on the bedside table. He looked at the screen and slid his index finger across it to silence the alarm. He groaned as he sat up in the bed. The spot next to him was empty. Of course it was. The school year would start soon and she wanted to get accustomed to waking early in the mornings.
He climbed out of the bed and headed to the bedroom door. He grabbed his robe from a chair and pulled it on as he exited the room. He smelled coffee, eggs and bacon drifting through the air from the kitchen. He smiled to himself. His wife was cooking breakfast and that was unusual. He moved through the house and out the front door. He walked to the end of his driveway and picked up the Monroe Daily News newspaper. He removed the rubber band around the paper and looked at the front page. The article on the front page didn’t have his name on the by-line, so he closed the paper and slid it under his arm.
David walked through the front door and walked through the living room and entered the kitchen. His wife, Katy, stood in front of the stove. He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She giggled when he kissed on the base of her neck.
“Good morning, darling,” she said to him. She stood at five feet six inches and she weighed one hundred nineteen pounds. The thirty-three-years-old second grade teacher had red wavy hair and blue eyes. She wore a blue cotton night shirt and shorts with a short pink silk robe.
“You’re up early,” David suggested. He stood at six feet one inch and he weighed one hundred eighty-nine pounds. The thirty-four-year-old writer of the Police Beat column in the Monroe Daily News had black hair and green eyes.
“The new school year starts in a couple of weeks. I need to get used to these early mornings. However, I can’t promise breakfast every morning,” she smiled at him.
“That’s okay. I will take them when I can get them,” he laughed.
“Set the table, breakfast is ready,” Katy said.
Seventeen-year-old Mandy Williams sat at her makeup table. She watched in the mirror on the back of the table while she brushed her hair. She silently counted to one hundred as she brushed the left side of her hair before she began on her right side. She stood at five feet three inches and she weighed one hundred two pounds. The Monroe City High School senior had shoulder-length straight blonde hair and blue eyes. She wore a red and white towel wrapped around her tanned body. A light knock on her bedroom door broke her concentration.
“Come in,” she called as she resumed brushing her hair.
“Breakfast is ready. I made your favorite: strawberries and creme oatmeal with two slices of buttered toast,” her mother from the doorway.
“Wheat toast?”
“Of course. Today is your last day to open The Shoe Store, right?”
“Yes, ma’am. You’re on the evening shift?” Mandy asked her mom.
“Yes. For the next two weeks I will be late coming home.”
“Do you want me to have supper ready for you when you get home?” Mandy finished brushing her hair and began to apply her makeup.
“No. I will stop by the diner on my way home.”
“That’s not healthy, mom,” Mandy called as her mom shut the door.
“I know. Your breakfast is getting cold,” her mother called from the hallway.
Ouachita Parish Sheriff Homicide Detective Herman Barker climbed out of his beige official sedan and slammed the door shut. He cursed under his breath as he walked across the front lawn to two sheriff deputies standing outside the front door of a single story wood framed house. The deputies nodded their heads as he approached them.
“Am I going to hate what I am about to see in there?” Detective Barker asked the deputies. He stood at six feet even and he weighed one hundred ninety-eight pounds. The forty-four-year-old veteran detective had graying brown hair and hazel eyes. He wore gray slacks, a white short sleeve shirt, a black sports coat with gray boots.
“Absolutely,” one of the deputies replied.
“Fucking great. Twenty minutes before my shift is over and I get a shit call. Either of you have gloves and booties?”
The sheriff deputy who stood to the right of the front door handed the homicide detective a pair of latex gloves and cotton booties. Detective Barker slid on the gloves and booties and he entered the house. The living room appeared to be just every living room he’d seen. A couch against one wall, a television mounted on the opposite wall. A coffee table covered with magazines that’s never been read and pictures of the family on the wall. He turned down the hallway and entered the first bedroom on the right.
Two twin beds were positioned parallel from each other. A table separated the head of the bed. He noticed a flatscreen television was mounted in the...
