Hello, Little Sparrow by Jordan Jones (the reading list .TXT) 📕

The drive that Abraham spoke to me about ebbed and flowed and was inconsistent enough to shoot my anxiety into the next universe. Some days I was fine as a detective.

I felt competent. I felt compelled to keep the scum off the streets, as clichéd as it sounded.

But, it was the days that I couldn’t find the energy to leave my bed that kept me from having that desire to continue. Those days were hell.

The fear that pulsed through my veins when I thought of another encounter with The Sparrow pierced through me like a hypodermic needle ready to inject me with a lethal dose of something painful. He was all I could think about.

Through the curtains, I could see the officers sitting in the patrol car; one was dozing off and the other digging at his nose. He had a strong flick outside the window, which nearly made me puke.

When my phone buzzed, I nearly jumped out of the recliner. Without looking, I answered.

“Trotter.”

“Whoa, Mr. Cop. You can settle it down.” It was Vivian. Calling me a little after six in the morning. It was an odd time for sure.

“Viv…I was expecting it to be work,” I said, keeping my voice as steady and confident as I could.

“Yeah, well it’s me. I was trying to reach Katherine. Is she there?” She sounded preoccupied as she often did. I could picture her wearing a black pantsuit with her hair freshly washed. She was applying eyeliner while sitting in her nice dark blue SUV in the parking lot of her office.

It wasn’t difficult to picture, but it also confused me why I always pictured her in scenarios when she called.

“She left yesterday sometime. She took off with my debit card. I’ll let her have some fun before I contact the bank.”

“Hmm,” she responded, sounding disappointed. That was her ally after all. “I might try reaching her cell, then.”

“OK, you’d have better luck with that. I think she’s back on campus.”

Vivian stopped for a few seconds before speaking. “John…I wanted to also check up with you and see if you were all right.”

My heart fell into my stomach. I knew Craig would be nowhere around and Viv wouldn’t want him knowing we were having this conversation. The sides of my mouth rose slightly as I answered.

“I’m doing well. I’ve regained strength in my arm and shoulder. I mean, they told me there’s little to no nerve damage. I’m doing physical therapy twice a week.” I sounded like a seventeen-year-old boy whose prom date just said yes.

I was too eager to answer.

“That’s good!” She said, sounded genuinely happy for me. “It’s been hard for you, I know…but, it hasn’t been easy over here knowing what you’re going through. I truly hope you find happiness, John.” She hung up before I could respond.

A sense of calmness captured my soul in that moment, and although it didn’t mean we would be reunited, I could hear in her voice that it wasn’t quite over. I knew it would help me cope with the paralyzing fear and anguish I felt on a daily basis.

It wasn’t so bad.

I set the phone down on coffee table and took a sip of hot tea, placed the dirty dishes in the sink, and grabbed my trench coat and fedora and headed out the door.

I gave a tip of the hat to the officers in the car and they pulled out before me to head home for the day. I was instantly grateful for what they did. It was probably the most mind-numbing assignment they’ve ever had, but they still didn’t complain to me about it.

The car was warmed up in no time and I was back down the winding path to Lincolnshire. Before entering town, a huge sign hung over the road for Fasten Biofuels - Next Exit.

It was an obnoxious sign that slammed me in the face every time I went into town. The factory made much of the city stink on certain days when the winds were just right.

The company employed several thousand residents of Lincolnshire, and it drove much of the economy.

But the stink was too much some days.

Descending down into the precinct garage, the hustle and bustle of early morning traffic was evident. The Sparrow had everyone focused on finding his true identity. The swat team was on standby and ready to gear up in a moments notice.

They spent most of their days training and working out. I spent most of mine trying to catch one of the most dangerous and elusive men on the planet.

I passed the weight room and took the elevator up to our section on the first floor and sat at the desk. Harlow was already typing away at her computer, unconvinced I was sitting across from her.

Abraham sat behind me with his nose scouring the printouts of each letter. Welker sat at the end of the row of cubicles, hanging up pictures of the most recent suicide victims.

He wasn’t as engaged in our investigation and I didn’t envy him…or us.

The suicide rates were finally going down as the gloomiest days were behind us, but they were still far higher than the national average.

They’d have to wait until The Sparrow was caught to get the respect they deserved.

“I’m still not understanding this, Trotter,” Abraham said. He swung his chair around and faced me. “I keep thinking this guy knows the person writing this, but this isn’t from his viewpoint. This is definitely a woman.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked, fully agreeing with him in my head.

“The handwriting is in old English style…she probably wrote a lot. It’s too nice and taken care of to be a male. This person cared not only about what they were writing, but how they were writing.”

I