Chapter 2

A continuation of our saga from last month. If you missed the first chapter, you can read it here.

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 “He’s gone!”, Detective Olivieri said as she burst through the front door of their home in Horace, North Dakota.

 It was Wednesday, Detective Olivieri had just gotten done with her shift at the Fargo Police Department to find her lazy ass husband half asleep on the couch looking at cartoons on his phone. ‘Anime’ he calls it. Waste of time if you ask me, he should be mowing the lawn or getting thing ready in the soup trailer.

 An Orange cat lays next to him, Taco, apparently enjoying the lazy afternoon, Two peas in a pod, she thinks. From overhead she hears a growl. That would be Beav, short for Beaver the ornery cat that terrorizes anyone who visits and gnaws on anything in sight.

“Who’s gone?” he replies.

“The Hater! Someone posted his bail and he just disappeared! Now he’ll never be brought to justice for all the atrocities he has committed on dogs.”

“You want to talk about atrocities, I ran out of beer today, had to go down to the Walmart and buy my own cube!”

The detective then goes to the fridge, pulls out a day-old Cheesy Sasquatch left over the last weekend’s trailer sales and warms it up in the microwave. “What happened to all the aluminum cans in the garage?”, she asks. “Took them into the recycler and cashed them all in, and don’t be asking me for no money, I done already spent it”.

Same old story, rather than arguing with him, she goes into the bedroom and starts a bath. She then heads off to bed, leaving him on the couch.

Meanwhile, just miles away a dark figure is hiding in the bushes near a popular dog park. He takes careful aim at what looks to be a mini-dachshund and fires. The little guy squeals as the hidden figure chuckles and reloads his weapon.

 Detective Olivieri  is greeted the next morning by Chief Roche. He is wearing a coffee-stained Oilers jersey. “Who are the Oilers playing tonight?” asks Olivieri. He always wears the damn jersey on game days. So much for professionalism she thinks. “Those damn Canucks” Roche replies. “Those west coasters think they are so much better than us, hell, they would not even be able to function if it wasn’t for the oil we pump in their direction”. 

Just then, Roche’s wife Leslie bops into the office carrying a brown paper bag with Roche’s name on it. “You forgot your lunch again this morning Dear”, she says. Her pigtailed hair bouncing as she bounces in wearing her usual attire. Short shorts and an Oilers halter top. A cross between Daisy Duke and Betty Crocker, Leslie is always doting on Roche. “I made you your favorite; a peanut butter sandwich and a can of Rig-hand Red”.

 It made Olivieri sick how Leslie waits on Roche hand and foot, making him breakfast, lunch and supper every day. But she can almost see why she does it, he is a big hunk of man, and her mind wanders every time she sees him. If her husband, Dino, showed the smallest amount of ambition, she too might dote over him a little more. But the only ambition he can muster is reaching his grotesquely disfigured hand down into the cooler next to the couch. Those hands, she shudders every time she sees them. Then she looks at Chief Roche's hands. So strong, so masculine, her mind starts to wander again. 

 “The Colibaba’s are coming over for the game tonight", Leslie says. "I am making Yorkshire pudding cups”. 

Upon hearing his name, Officer Colibaba comes into the room. “Take that damn Cancucks jersey off”, Roche yells at him. Ignoring him, Colibaba says, “Di received four reports of dogs being shot last night, sounds like The Hater is still in the area”. “Any fatalities?” Olivieri asks. “No, the dogs are all alright, just a little shaken up. He seems to be using some sort of nonlethal weapon”.  

Splitting up, Roche, Colibaba and Olivieri all head over to the various scenes of the shootings.  After thoroughly scouring the scenes, they reconvene back at the department several hours later and compare notes.

Roche starts the meeting by saying "Give me a briefing on what you found". Colibaba goes first "It was easy enough to find where The Hater hid in the bushes. The guy is an ogre of a man, it is hard to miss. Several Yuengling caps laying in the dirt at the site of the shooting". Colibaba then lays out several photos of the scene, his smiling face on every one of them. "Colibaba, how many times do I have to tell you, not to do selfies when photographing evidence?" "I can't help it", he replies, "It is the only way I know how to take pictures."

"Detective, what do you have?" "I took two crime scenes, both pretty much the same, the Yuengling caps and a big depression where The Hater sat before shooting the dogs." "Here's the strange thing", she says, "There were Yuengling caps at the spot where the dogs were hit, my guess is that The Hater is flicking the caps at the dogs as they walk by." "Fits The Haters profile," Roche says "he is a beer snob, and he does come from Pennsylvania."

Roche continued, "My scene was a little different than yours, same M.O., but my scene had Busch Light bottle caps both at the ambush site and where the dog was hit, either The Hater ran out of money and went to bottom shelf beer or he has an accomplice". 

Hearing this Olivieri quickly stated that she had to go, and rushed out of the briefing room, into her squad car, arriving at her home minutes later. No one was home. Something was nagging at her. Something she saw last night but did not register at the time. She tore through the house searching, drawers, under the bed, in the garage, nothing. Then she saw it. The kitchen trash can was empty with a fresh bag in it. He would never do something like that unless he was trying to hide something. She rushed out to the garage and started going through the large garbage can. Ripping open the bag on top, its contents spilled onto the floor. There on the floor, amongst the regular garbage were several Busch Light and Yuengling bottles. Her hand went to her face, and she gasped as she saw the other two items in there. Packages. Empty packages. The outside of them plain as day had the words; Bottle Cap Shooting Gun, Fun for the Whole Family. 

Seeing this, the room started to spin, she was feeling light-headed, then everything went black. 

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That concludes chapter 2. Is Dino really involved in the shootings? Did he team up with The Hater? Stay tuned for the next chapter of our ongoing saga. 

But first, let me introduce you to the cast of characters. The story was inspired by actual events and actual people (and pets).  Many of you do not know the characters of this story. Consider yourself lucky. For the rest of you, who do know them. My condolences. 

First up is Steve, the forensics expert and his lovely wife Dianne, our dispatcher. I will not tell you which part of their story was inspired by actual events, but here is a selfie of them that I recently received. 

Then there are the Roche's. Again, lovely people with a love for all things beer and hockey. As long as it includes the Oilers. First up Barb and Leslie, followed by Chief Roche wearing his game day uniform. 

The Hater and his poor wife Vicki who he left at home while on this cross-country rampage. Those of you who know him, know I speak nothing but the truth in my descriptions of him. He may try to fool you with the fact that he has had dogs all his life and appeared to love them, but do not let that fool you.

Beer snob Harry, showing off and protecting his beer collection. 

Our ever-vigilant Detective Olivieri. Never leaving a stone unturned, she always seeks the truth. Here she is trying to get to the bottom of an appetizer platter. 

Lisa and Barb, back in the day, enjoying a refreshing beverage. 

Beav. Probably the orneriest cat I've ever met. 

Last but not least, Dino, our apparent accomplice in these dastardly deeds. Nothing I write about him is an exaggeration. I have multiple pictures to prove it! This first one includes his cat Taco. Below that one is Dino posing with an anime magazine in a Mexican convenience store. 

These last two pictures further prove my point. Here is Dino at Christmas getting everything he asked Santa for. The next picture is a few hours later.