RichEisbrouch

“One more thing,” Elena went on, “in addition to the shooter probably being a woman with long hair... at one point, Zal said something went wrong... Something tiny, like she dropped her marker or the stencil slipped... Or things weren’t going as fast as she wanted – though Zal said he was amazed at how quickly it went. He was on the ground, with his eyes shut. And he was counting slowly... because after fifteen minutes, he gives up for the night. And he’d been lying there for maybe seven, when h

Again, it wasn’t. All that happened was the student got robbed. “At least, it was a fake wallet,” Elena admitted, half-laughing. “There was no sign the shooter was tracking people, but we didn’t want to take a chance. It was a lost wallet that had been unclaimed for over a year... with a fake ID, some other filler, and only a few bucks.” “And the kid just got rolled?” Owen asked, also finding it funny. “I didn’t think there was that much crime at UMass.” “There isn’t...

But it didn’t, and the shooter was active again, hitting two more students. Though these weren’t on the UMass campus and neither used darts. And one of the students wasn’t really a student. “He occasionally takes classes at Greenfield,” Elena told the group. “But he’s mainly dropped out.” “How old is he?” Ike wondered. “Twenty-four. But he looks younger.” “Does he work?” Rob followed. “Yes... at the same job he had in college – a c

Elena quickly discovered the shooter was very active, because that afternoon, another report came in from the UMass police, also from two nights before. A guy was walking on campus when he was shot. At first, he thought it was a Nerf dart, then he pulled out the sharper one. But he also figured ‘The hell with it,’ and sat on a bench to wait. “He wanted to catch the shooter himself ,” Elena reported. “Wanted to be a hero. He also wanted the trophy of a real tattoo to show off, a

“I’ll bet this isn’t what the shooter expected,” Elena offered at the lunch meeting. “No, but we should’ve predicted it,” Don replied laughing, “when the UMass frat guys started shooting at each other.” “On this scale?” Rob asked. “No, this is craziness,” Jae told them. “I’ve never seen it this bad.” “But it’s probably harmless,” the UMass officer told Elena when he alerted her. “And it will probably stop after the weekend. But you still should

Yep, one of the things I did in the book is to nudge the family a bit closer together, to make the story a little easier to follow. The three older brothers and their immediate families were actually living in adjacent towns and working in different mills.

Our family didn't gather as often, and it wasn't as large as this one, but it still involved eighteen people in one small house when we all got together.

Even though my son Del was younger than Albie, Del quickly left his cousin behind. Del was always tall, and he matched Albie’s height by the time he was four. By that point, Albie was seven. People seeing Rosalind or me with both the boys would sometimes ask if they were twins. That might have embarrassed Rosalind if she wasn’t already used to hearing comments about her son. She simply answered, “No, my sister’s husband’s just taller than mine. That’s all.” It wasn’t completely

There was a little anger from the media. “How long has this been going on?” asked one of the dozen-or-so reporters who contacted Owen after he phoned the major Springfield area TV stations. “And why isn’t Northampton handling this? They’re so much better.” Owen knew not to say, “Because they don’t want to deal with you.” He’d spoken to the Northampton captain, a long-time friend, and she’d said, “I know what you’re headed into, and I know it’s important. But it’s all yours.”

Yep, they're working hard at puzzling this through. As Elena said, it's kind of a rabbit's hole. Not the ordinary case.

The next attack came in Holyoke. “Is this a pattern?” Ike asked. “Who followed us the last time?” “Westfield,” Elena told him. “Not a pattern,” he admitted, then added, “Who followed that?” Elena checked. “Greenfield.” “Pretty much random?” She nodded, and Ike grinned. “I should stay out of this.” Still, Elena filled him and everyone else in on the details, making sure she had everything in place before sh

Elena continued her research, mainly online, and then talked it over with Don. “I didn’t realize how expensive these tranquilizer guns are,” she said. “Never thought about it... Guess they’re pretty specialized... How much?” “Three or four thousand dollars.” “Wow! I never expected that. So we’re looking for a rich kid.” “Possibly. But you can also make a blowgun that does the same thing, and that only costs two or three bucks.” “Wi

As I've already mentioned: sometimes, either can I. It's a short, tight piece, and everything depends on holding the readers' interest. As soon as that drops, I have to go in and rewrite.

The second through ninth people who were attacked went almost unnoticed. Their tattoos were reported, but accounts came in scattered: Amherst, South Hadley, Northampton, and other nearby places with colleges. It took the second one in Waldron for Elena to start putting them together. In the series, the first wasn’t even theirs. That was fourth: Amherst, Northampton, South Hadley, Waldron, Westfield, Greenfield, Holyoke, Chicopee, Springfield, and then Waldron again. “To

“What do we do next?” Elena asked Owen, after Kiran Sachs had left the station. Her boss was leaning back in his swivel chair with his feet on his desk. Over the years, she’d seen a lot of Owen’s soles. “Well, since he doesn’t want to press charges,” the chief replied, “there’s not a lot we can do – or really need to. Just write it up, so we’re covered – in case anything like this happens again.” “He’s still treating it lightly... even though he’s right – it is an assau

Yeah, me, too. These things are easy to start, harder to sustain, and hardest to end in a way that satisfies most of the readers.

“Is that new?” Elena asked. “Oh, yeah,” Kiran answered. “Well, a couple of days now... and it’s faded. My girlfriend says it’s henna.” “May I look?” Elena stood. “Or do you want one of the guys...” “No... I’m not shy.” He grinned. “And I’ve had people looking at it since Wednesday... Wednesday night.” It was Friday afternoon. Elena came around to his side of the table, and he stood, so she didn’t have to bend. Again, he held his sh

That's terrific. It appears I mainly wrote this for you and my sister -- neither of whom are obviously related to my husband's family, the rough source of the story.

The first person who came into the station to report it seemed almost embarrassed and treated it a bit like a joke. “I’m not really sure what happened,” he began, “and I still think it could be a prank one of my friends is pulling.” He hesitated, kind of looking anywhere but at Elena. She simply waited. “But I’ve asked all my friends, and they’ve said ‘no’ – though they think it’s pretty funny, too.” He grinned. “And you gotta admit it is... and no one was hurt.”

In a small Western Massachusetts former mill town, now part of a larger college circuit, people -- largely students -- keep getting approached. They don't bring it on themselves -- or do they? Police detective Elena Petrakis leads the investigation, while her standbys, Chief Owen Neland, Senior Detective Don Burris, Lt. Ike Omari, and Sgts. Jae Ryu and Rob Perez offer support.

Getting married changed everything, more than I ever could have thought. It was the first time I’d lived away from town, and the first time I’d really been away from my family. And moving meant giving up so many things I’d gotten used to. Electricity and running water for a start. And a bathroom. And the telephone. In town, we didn’t use the telephone much. Everyone we knew lived so close, it was almost easier to walk. But once we had one, it was good just knowing it was there.

The characters are simply people you've got to respect because they're gentle and respect others. And, yeah, they're practical and hard-working because that's the way they were raised to be. And they keep passing those values on, as did my very different, urban family -- all the way down to my nieces and nephew. Very small bits of those values influenced the New York City sections of Barnegat Bay, and some of my family turned up in a couple of chapters of Wisecracking Across America. Much more will be in 593 Riverside, when I get back to writing that. Right now, I'm working on a very short -- 16,000 words -- mystery novel set back in Waldron, Massachusetts. Don Burris, from Pendleton Omens and Tall Man Down, is featured, but he's not the core. And I shouldn't be talking about writing because that means I'm not doing it. Again, thanks for reading along.

As wrong as we had all been about money, Mrs. Seiler was right about Albie. The older he got, the more different he was. He looked all right, and some things he did were just fine. He could talk with other children and play with them. But he didn’t seem to think the same way they did, and you could tell that even before he was two. But he got a good first birthday present. The mill opened again, and almost everyone went back to work. The new owners were some of the original owne

Yep, that's why the older brothers want a farm. And something that I'm not sure is ever mentioned in the book, but there's a canning cellar in the backyard of the house, next to where the garden would have been.

The next year started off so well. Rosalind was married and was going to have a baby. I was twenty-one, so could do almost anything. Walter’s wife had another baby, so now he had four daughters and finally a son. “It’s not that I really needed a boy,” he said. “But it sure is nice to have one.” “Now you can stand up straight,” Dougie teased. Though Dougie only had one son himself, and Gordy was adopted. “He may as well be my daddy,” Gordy joked.