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

but we were given strict orders by the Commissioner to work around the clock until we found the identity of The Sparrow. Overtime pay was included.

LT Anderson wanted me to take a few days off to gather my thoughts, but all I found myself doing was waiting.

“Hey, Trotter,” Harlow said. I couldn’t bear to look behind me at Abraham’s empty desk. They’d already taken everything off and gave it to his family. They put the work related items in the evidence room.

They didn’t want the distractions of a reminder that a great detective once worked there.

“Hey,” I replied, booting up my computer.

“Want me to make you a coffee?” She asked.

“Nah, I’m good.”

I could tell she meant to say something else, but nothing came back up. Abraham’s funeral was tomorrow. None of us wanted to talk about it.

The air was thick.

“Has anyone looked into this Brimsburg incident?” I asked, not allowing for any more silence to intrude.

“What was that?” Welker asked.

“This report came from the Brimsburg police precinct. It says that a thirty-eight year old woman was stabbed to death outside of a rehab facility there.”

Welker looked it up in the system and was following along. He read the report along with me.

“It says a mysterious man was on the premises on that foggy morning. This happened like a week ago, how are we just now getting this?”

Brimsburg is a safe place,” Harlow interjected. “My cousin lives there and she said they don’t even deal with car break-ins or vandalism. She didn’t tell me about this, though.”

I read on: “It says here that the man went inside and sat down at their hiring kiosk and filled out an application with the name…”

I stopped and looked at the name. My heart jumped out of my chest before I could read on.

It was him.

And, he knew more about me than I could’ve dreamed.

“What was the name?” Harlow asked, impatiently.

“Tommy Roisman,” Welker blurted out as I tried to digest what was happening.

“Does that name ring a bell to anyone?” Harlow asked.

“Not me,” Welker replied. “Maybe it’s some sort of anagram or something. There’s no way he’s just going to put his own information in there like that.”

They both looked at me for only a second before LT Anderson poked his head out of his door and motioned for me to come to his office. I turned off my monitor and my legs started to shake.

“Take a seat,” LT Anderson said as I walked in. He shut the door behind me. “This isn’t good, John.”

“He knows about Tommy Roisman.”

He took a puff from his pipe and sat back in his chair, reading the same report we were. “There could be a lot coming down from this, you know that, right?”

I nodded. “I took the file from that Night Stalker guy…Crist. Evan Crist. I downloaded it in my thumb drive and took it home and deleted it.”

“Well, he knows about it somehow.” LT Anderson took another puff. “What do we do here, John? Do I take you off this case?”

“No you don’t!” I stood up. “I’m going to find this guy. He’s taken everything from me!”

“I have to think of logistics here, John,” he said. “He knows about things that only a few of us do. He is messing with us…you in particular.”

“I saw a picture; let me see that picture from their security camera…of him sitting at the kiosk.” I pulled the picture closer to me. “It’s grainy, but maybe we have a better IT department than Brimsburg.”

“We can try,” LT Anderson said. “But remember, we’re trying to catch this guy because he’s killing people. Not because he could expose a secret or two. That’s what I need you to remember. If I get the slightest hint you’re taking a vendetta out against The Sparrow, I’m reassigning you to some vice cases. No questions asked.”

I agreed, but it was difficult to keep my emotions in check. He knew about me. I wanted him stopped before he hurt anyone else, but it was extra motivating knowing he had knowledge of me and my past…not a past I was proud of or wanted to get involved with again.

“I’m going to take this guy down,” I said. “I don’t have a choice.”

“It’s all of us if you don’t, John. He knows too much.”

He was right. I was no longer safe.

I went back out to my desk to start digging more.

“I’m not finding anything on this Roisman guy,” Harlow said. “There are some out there with that name and spelling, but no one really that close. Maybe it is an anagram.”

“You can stop worrying about that name,” I said. “It basically means that he knows me and knows I’m investigating his case. He was mocking us…namely me with that name.”

“What does it mean?” Welker asked. “A little context here would help us, Trotter.”

“Whether you know the context won’t help the case,” I said. “The only thing you need to know is that he knows me and now I’m a target.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

The bright yellow sun faded behind the ever-existent stratus clouds that forced the Northeast spring to be delayed another few weeks. The chill was more than Brooks wanted, because he wanted to show off his new button-up shirt to Mae as quickly as possible, but she’d have to wait until they were seated.

Shafer’s was as fancy of a seafood restaurant as Lincolnshire offered. Brooks looked their menu up online and couldn’t find a single entrée priced at less than twenty-five dollars, which was exactly what he was looking for.

He didn’t care if Mae was impressed, but he wanted to show himself, and Madison, that he was serious about the change. Dropping serious money on a date inspired change within