Suzanne Berube Rorhus
Cork
Casey “Cork” McCormick had everything he desired – the loving wife, the chip-off-the-block son, and the dream job, that of detective for the Battle Creek Police Department. A drug dealer’s bullet changed all that. Not only did the slug shatter his hip, it also shattered his confidence. Everything he once held dear is now on the line.
When a vet from the Battle Creek zoo is found strangled outside the cage of a genetically modified cheetah, Cork resolves to find her murderer to prove to himself that he still has what it takes to fight crime.
Cork doesn’t lack for suspects. Animal rights protestors have been in town for months, decrying the existence of the modified cheetah, dubbed the “Frankenbeast.” Cork’s own son has taken part in these protest rallies, though he claims to have had no hand in the recent arson at the zoo. Bridget O’Keefe and Erik Lindstrom, leaders of the local ELF action, are among those who have written threatening letters to the vet.
The victim, Dr. Claire Vandenburg, had other enemies closer to home. She had filed for divorce from her narcissistic husband, Dirk. Her son Jacob and his wife Roxie lean on Claire to support their drug dealing lifestyle.
The investigation into the lifestyles and motives of those closest to Claire leads Cork to a face-to-face confrontation with her killer.
Cork
By the time Cork arrived at the Binder Park Zoo, the animal rights protest was in full rant. Although the zoo had not yet opened for the season, people and vehicles choked its entrance plaza. A row of officers in riot gear had formed a barricade across the forested pathway leading to the turnstiles to prevent additional civilians from joining the protest.
Cork parked in the fire lane and dragged himself out of his Honda Civic, banging his cane on the steering wheel in the process. He paused to slip on a pair of mirrored sunglasses – cop glasses – to shield his eyes from the sunlight glittering off the mounds of snow that stood sentinel along the edge of the parking lot.
Beyond the wall of officers, twenty or so protestors circled, waving homemade protest signs and shouting. Each person carried a plastic grocery bag in addition to a sign. They were too far away for Cork to read the signs, but he could hear their chanting clearly enough, thanks to a bullhorn one of them wielded.
“Death to the monster! Kill the Frankenbeast!”
Oh, boy.
His son Matthew circled with the protestors. At fourteen, he was younger than the others by a decade or two, and his boyish face gleamed with excitement. Cork winced. This group was on Homeland Security’s terrorist watch list, and Cork hated to see his offspring shackled to their cause.
He searched for Mya. She’d called as soon as she realized Matthew was one of the protestors. Cork owed her big.
Sergeant Daniel Ward walked past, and Cork tapped his shin with his cane to get his attention. The cane was new. After gimping along for five months on the soulless aluminum cripple stick his physical therapist had given him, he’d upgraded to an oak walking stick with a hammered gold head. This was a weapon with some heft to it, something he could use to bash a skull, should the need arise.
“Hey, Cork,” Ward said, rubbing one leg against the back of the other. Cork decided he’d whacked him harder than he’d intended. “I haven’t seen you since you came back to work. You still carrying that slug around?”
Cork pasted on his hearty smile. “Hell, it’s not heavy, Sarge. Half an ounce of lead’s not going to slow me down.”
“Good man. So, are you enjoying the protest? It’s like the crazed villagers outside Frankenstein’s castle. All we’re missing are the pitchforks and smoky torches.”
I hope you enjoyed the first two pages of Cork. Thanks for reading!
Copyright 2010 Suzanne Berube Rorhus. All rights reserved.
