27
Apr
Jeannie was shocked. Well, sort of. She was, at least, surprised. She didn’t know she had an Uncle living in Canada. To make the point even clearer, she didn’t know she had an Uncle at all. Both her parents died in a car crash when she was 3 years old and no other family had ever surfaced. She had been alone all her life. The foster families had been mostly kind over the years, but once she had left those homes, she never heard from any of them again. Aside from Gramma Sadie. The old woman liked being called Gramma Sadie. But she died just a few years ago after Jeannie had gotten married to Ted. Jeannie’s divorce papers still had fresh ink on them.
When the FedEx driver had pulled out of her driveway, she opened the envelope. It was an invitation of sorts. Apparently she had been named as a beneficiary in her Uncles will. She wasn’t going to go just to see if she was a rich woman or anything, she was mostly curious if there was any other family she didn’t know about that would be attending. She had nothing better to do anyway, so she headed for Niagara Falls to meet her dead Uncle.
-MRC
24
Apr
Salmon are fascinating creatures. Many people don’t realize that Salmon are born as fresh water fish, change into saltwater fish, and then change back into fresh water fish before dying in the same place they were born. At least that was the way things worked normally. So many Salmon never made it back to their birthplace with dams, pollution, overfishing, dried up rivers and streams, and disease preventing it. Human intervention and innovation teamed up with science to find ways to supplement the Salmon population. In the Pacific Northwest, a home to Salmon fishing for generations, the American Indian has struggled to regain control of the dying fish that has meant so much to their spiritual center and culture. The native fisheries were paramount to regaining that control
When the manager of the Suquamish Tribal Hatchery found all his fish dead for a second time without explanation, he called for help. Tribal Sheriff Ransom Johns made another call and the feds sent a rookie.
-MRC
20
Apr
The old Pirate walked surprisingly steadily up the stairs to the awaiting noose. He held an air of calm like a warm blanket. Resigned to his fate many years before, Olivier LeVasseur, The Buzzard, had reached the end with his head held high. He even wore a slight smile, if you were looking closely. His hands hung loosely at his sides but one was curled in a fist. He had something in his right hand. Nothing dangerous, obviously. The guards would not have allowed that. His eyes scanned the crowd before him. He was looking for someone. The magistrate read aloud the death warrant. The Buzzard didn’t bother to listen. It was of no matter. “Where was she?”, he wondered.
-MRC
19
Apr
You can tell a lot about an agent from their case reports. Lynn had spent several hours pouring over Gerald’s. In Graduate School, Lynn had been an exceptionally gifted student when it came to profiling an individual from their writings. Her ability to spot distinctive character traits by selective word choice and the use of “I” or “ME” was legendary at the Academy. Agent Hinch was no different. She knew she was in for his special brand of narcissism and was well prepared for him.
She was led to his office. She noted that he did not personally meet her at the door. She had three strikes against her already and they hadn’t even met. She was a rookie, a woman, and an Asian.
He was seated and apparently on the phone when she walked in. He made her wait while he finished his chat. It wasn’t an important call. He was establishing dominance. He hung up. “Please,” he motioned to a chair. “Sit down. Make yourself comfortable.” She parried, “that’s OK, I would rather stand.” She now stood over him and he didn’t like it. Score one for Lynn.
He suddenly jumped up from his seat. He gabbed his coat, badge, and firearm. “Let’s go for a ride.”
Let the games begin.
-MRC
9
Apr
There was no breeze. But the heat didn’t prevent the unusually large number of spectators from filling the square. The gallows had been constructed several days before and bad weather had prevented the public execution for several days. That was no matter. The people of Bourbon Island were not impatient. Island people rarely were. They had awaited this day and it was finally here. The House of Bourbon had signed the death warrant a year before the pirate had even been captured and tried. That was 1728. Now, at the sight of him, one wondered how this broken old man with one good eye could have evaded capture for so long.
-MRC