The Rasner Effect by Mark Rosendorf Read Free Book Online

your shot.’ So that’s what I wanted to do, I wanted to take my shot.”
    Juan peeked at his watch and clenched his jaws. His hand shook from the weight of his gun. Had he noticed Derrick’s intense stare at the antique widow maker mounted inches from his nose?
    “Kenny threw the ball past me twice for two quick strikes. He laughed after each one, but I kept thinking it was time to take my shot. And do you know what happened?”
    “You swung the bat, got a hit, and won the game,” Juan answered with a hint of sarcasm.
    “Actually, I never swung the bat and he struck me out.” Derrick smiled smugly. “Only this time, when he laughed at me, I took my shot. As he walked past me, I smacked him right across his mouth with the bat.” That story always caused him to grin. He reached up and rubbed the top of the weapon on its wall mount. “I think my old psychiatrist would have called that the conflict/resolution cycle.” Derrick laughed. “After that, I ended up on probation and in juvenile hall, then institutionalized, and finally liberated by the Colonel. The rest, my friend, is history.”
    Derrick snatched the gun off the wall and spun toward Juan.
    Juan was ready. He had the gun pointed at Derrick’s chest as he turned. Juan’s finger twitched on the trigger. The weapon went off, but not before Derrick managed to fire as well.
    Both men toppled backward, landing on their backs as smoke emanated from their chests where each bullet had hit. For several long moments, neither moved.
    Finally, Derrick sat up. He unbuttoned the top three buttons on his shirt revealing a gray Kevlar vest. “Paranoia does have its advantages.” Derrick patted his vest and then pulled himself up to his feet.
    He looked down at Juan, whose eyes were open wide but his body did not move. A spot on the jacket was burned where the bullet had entered. Crimson liquid stained the black leather.
    With his toe, Derrick rolled Juan’s body over. He bent down and removed the packet of bills from the back pocket, then reached into his own back pocket and removed a small black cell phone. As he straightened up, Derrick reached for a handle attached to one of the wooden planks that made up the basement floor. He lifted it. Below was a large dirt hole.
    “You know your boss wasn’t really looking to threaten a great customer like me,” Derrick explained as he kicked the body into the hole. “If he did, why would he send a loser like you to collect?”
    Juan’s body thudded to the dirt several feet underneath the basement floor. Derrick set the plank back in its original spot, then stood and made sure everything was as it had been a half hour earlier. He then flipped open the cell phone and brought it up to his mouth.
    “Jen,” he said and waited as the number automatically dialed.
    “Hey Jennie, it’s your old buddy, Derrick. I need you to come here. I have something important to show you. You don’t want to blow me off this time. This is the news you’ve been waiting for. I’ve found him!”

Chapter Five
    Rick sat on the bench in the office waiting for the Director to call him into her office. He had stood, paced back and forth, and returned to the bench many times while he waited.
    An hour and a half. She couldn’t possibly still be on the phone.
    He tapped the bench with his left forefinger, but stopped when he thought he might have distracted the secretary. He peeked at her, but the lady’s attention had never left her computer screen. Her phone rang. She answered it, listened for a moment, and then hung up.
    “Miss Miller will see you now.”
    Rick stood up again, walked past the secretary’s desk, and into the Director’s office. “Hello, Miss Miller,” Rick offered, but he did not receive a response.
    Katherine Miller, head director of the Brookhill Children’s Psychiatric Residence, sat behind a large office desk with her back stiff. Miller wore very thick “coke-bottle” glasses that magnified her eyes so they filled