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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcESXY-cCp7ImA9WhRRFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628</id><updated>2011-11-27T15:53:28.858-08:00</updated><category term="Online Novel" /><category term="Christian Fiction" /><category term="Romance" /><category term="The Novel Blogger" /><category term="Christian Literature" /><category term="Fussy Baby" /><category term="Santa Barbara" /><category term="Running" /><category term="thenovelblogger" /><category term="mystery" /><category term="thenovelblogger blogspot" /><category term="blogspot" /><category term="Jogging" /><category term="The Novel Blogger Blogspot" /><category term="Christian Books Online" /><category term="Online Christian Fiction" /><category term="Coast guard pursuit" /><category term="Christian Novels" /><category term="Colt Crawford" /><category term="Online Fiction" /><category term="Christian Novel" /><category term="Read Books Online" /><category term="Santa Barbara Harbor" /><category term="Grand Banks" /><title>The Novel Blogger</title><subtitle type="html">An Interactive Book Experience That Relies on You</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>58</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/blogspot/dVOK" /><feedburner:info uri="blogspot/dvok" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQNRns8cSp7ImA9WxFSGEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-3658091366812072577</id><published>2010-04-21T06:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T06:43:17.579-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-04-21T06:43:17.579-07:00</app:edited><title>Colt Crawford - Chapter 16 (Wednesday)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DhhfRerZx7V1-6UWrOj_CGnm-VU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DhhfRerZx7V1-6UWrOj_CGnm-VU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DhhfRerZx7V1-6UWrOj_CGnm-VU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DhhfRerZx7V1-6UWrOj_CGnm-VU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;“I just got a call from the CSU guys.”  It was early Thursday morning, but Colt could tell from the sound of Krissy’s voice that she had been awake for a while.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“What time is it?” he mumbled into the phone as he tried to focus his eyes on the clock in the hotel room.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“I’ll meet you at the station in 30 minutes,” Krissy said without answering his question before hanging up.  Colt’s eyes finally made out the time.  It was just after five a.m.  Still groggy and wishing for another hour of sleep, Colt peeled the sheets off of himself and slowly trudged to the shower.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“What’s so important that you call me before dawn?” Colt asked a half hour later as he approached Krissy’s desk with two cups of coffee in hand.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Get this,” Krissy began.  “Kevin’s car was wiped clean.  No fingerprints.  He had been shot twice in the chest. The angle of entry suggests that the shooter was outside the car, probably a foot from the driver side window.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“And no shattered glass, so the window was down,” Colt added.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Exactly.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Meaning, it was someone that Kevin knew,” Colt concluded.  “Destiny?” he assumed.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“It’s not that easy,” Krissy cautioned.  “Remember how he was holding the envelope?  The one with pictures of my parents”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Colt nodded, his eyes telling her to continue.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Well, that was placed there after he died.  It only makes sense.  Why would the guy hug pictures of my family just before he died?”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“I’m following you,” Colt said.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“The crime scene guys found traces of saliva on the tab of the envelope and guess what?  It doesn’t match Destiny.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“So where does that leave us?” Colt asked.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“The DNA clearly indicates that our shooter is a man.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Mathis?” Colt asked.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“We don’t have a DNA sample from him to compare, but I’d bet week’s pay it was him.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“A lot of people have bet a week’s pay with him before and lost,” Colt reminded her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-3658091366812072577?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/lH0it7kOKg4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/3658091366812072577/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/04/colt-crawford-chapter-16-wednesday.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/3658091366812072577?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/3658091366812072577?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/lH0it7kOKg4/colt-crawford-chapter-16-wednesday.html" title="Colt Crawford - Chapter 16 (Wednesday)" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/04/colt-crawford-chapter-16-wednesday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEYBR387fyp7ImA9WxFSF0o.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-7847605738294727954</id><published>2010-04-20T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T07:02:36.107-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-04-20T07:02:36.107-07:00</app:edited><title>Chapter 16 (Tuesday)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AmCE0WkI9VYPvxaT3CUVCGB0hrQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AmCE0WkI9VYPvxaT3CUVCGB0hrQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AmCE0WkI9VYPvxaT3CUVCGB0hrQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AmCE0WkI9VYPvxaT3CUVCGB0hrQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;The avid Colt Crawford fans out there (both of you) probably noticed that there was no post yesterday.  That was due to the Junior Novel Blogger turning 8 and a round of crepes early in the morning during my writing time.  Never fear, the story continues...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The interview room at the police station was a lonely place for a twenty something girl who with a checkered past.  Given the resources of her family, however, a lawyer soon joined her and advised her against speaking.  For the first time in her life, Destiny took the advice of someone older and wiser and kept her mouth shut.  Regardless, the police had enough evidence and the testimony of Steven Mathis to tie her to the gambling ring.  What they didn’t have yet, was conclusive proof she had ordered the hit on Samantha or Kevin’s murder.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The two other detectives who had been helping, Holt and Sanchez, returned to the police station with some helpful news.  “A couple of Kevin’s buddies showed us e-mails that Jailene, or Destiny, had sent him.  Check this one out.”  Sanchez dropped a one page print out in front of Krissy.  She glanced down and began reading.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Is that the address where Samantha works?” Krissy asked.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“The very same building,” Holt replied.  “And it is dated December 31, the day before the attack.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“That’s not all,” Sanchez added.  “These guys were eager to see Jailene burn for dragging Kevin into the mess.”  He produced another e-mail that had been sent from Kevin’s BlackBerry.  It was dated 9:30 PM on January 1.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Krissy read it aloud.  “Mission accomplished.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Sanchez dropped the final bomb.  “We had the tech guys pinpoint the GPS coordinates for the phone at the time that message was sent.  He was within 50 feet of the where Samantha was found.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“What about bank records for Kevin.  Can we find evidence of a large deposit?”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Not in the bank, but his next semester at the university was paid in full on Monday morning.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Trading violent crime for a free education.  That’s a new one.”  It was Colt this time joining the conversation.  “This gives us motive to pin Kevin’s murder on Destiny, but no actual evidence.”   &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“We’ll follow up with the CSI team and see what they found in his car,” Krissy said.  “Maybe that will give us the link we need.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Even if they find evidence of her in the car, that’s not a surprise.  They were dating, you know,” Colt added.   &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“True, but you never know what will turn up.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-7847605738294727954?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/QbIgmiRxOuk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/7847605738294727954/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/04/chapter-16-tuesday.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/7847605738294727954?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/7847605738294727954?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/QbIgmiRxOuk/chapter-16-tuesday.html" title="Chapter 16 (Tuesday)" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/04/chapter-16-tuesday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0QFRnYycCp7ImA9WxFSE04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-5577321220164642458</id><published>2010-04-15T06:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T06:48:37.898-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-04-15T06:48:37.898-07:00</app:edited><title>Colt Crawford - Chapter 15 (Thursday)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QGEoCa7vLwHeCkcVJjrI0b89BcU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QGEoCa7vLwHeCkcVJjrI0b89BcU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QGEoCa7vLwHeCkcVJjrI0b89BcU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QGEoCa7vLwHeCkcVJjrI0b89BcU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;The Coast Guard boat pulled up alongside the now disabled yacht.  The captain’s voice bellowed across the water through the ship’s P.A. system. “Put the gun down and your hands in the air.”  Still contemplating testing fate, Destiny froze, obviously considering her options. The Coast Guard boat had the captain, three crew members, and Colt and Krissy.  Destiny realized that the odds were not in her favor, but she did have a secret weapon that was unknown to her pursuers.  &lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;Destiny’s mind swirled with thoughts faster than she could sort them all out.  To surrender now would mean jail, a place she had no intention of going.  To try to escape, however, could result in death, another unwelcome option.   What she needed to do was stall until her secret plan could be put into place.  She glanced around.  The two boats were about a mile off shore, so swimming was out of the question.  The Coast Guard boat was about ten yards from Destiny’s yacht.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;After several minutes of a tense standoff, Destiny finally laid down her gun.  Since she was now unarmed, the shot caught everyone by surprise.  The bullet whizzed past Colt’s ear and landed in the ocean behind him.  The mood aboard the Coast Guard boat immediately changed, although no one fired back because it was unclear where the shooter was hiding.  The second shot missed everything.  Given the ocean swells, the odds of anyone finding a target were small, but no one aboard the boat wanted to test the guy’s aim.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Assuming defensive positions, the crew trained their guns on My Destiny.  “It’s coming from the port hole on the bow,” one of the crewmen said.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The Captain began barking out orders.  “Crowley and Donovan, you two cover the girl.  Myers, you and Detective Malone prepare to board the boat,” he said as he gestured toward Krissy.  Colt realized that his training was not in this field and he readily agreed to stay on board the Coast Guard boat. Unsure whether the captain was in on the escape or not, Myers and Krissy planed to bring everyone off the boat in cuffs and sort that out later.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The captain carefully maneuvered the utility boat up to the stern of the yacht in an effort to avoid the shooter’s line of fire.   With guns carefully aimed at a now unarmed Destiny, Myers and Krissy leapt from their boat to the deck of Destiny’s.  They quickly made their way up to the bridge and secured the captain and Destiny without incident.   “Who is below deck?” Krissy demanded once the cuffs were in place.  Realizing that it was over, Destiny lowered her head.  She thought through the situation carefully, but wisely accepted the reality that someone may end up dead, but no one was going to avoid jail. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“His name is Anthony. I let him stay on the boat when I’m not using it.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Is he alone?”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Usually, but I never even told him we were here.  He probably just woke up.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Myers and Krissy escorted the suspects back to the Coast Guard vessel and then were joined by Crowley and Donovan as they began a sweep of the yacht.  With guns drawn they methodically worked their way from stern to bow.  The stateroom provided plenty of evidence to corroborate Destiny’s story about a bachelor living on the boat.  The bed was unmade, trash littered the floor, clothes were strewn about, and empty beer cans had been haphazardly tossed around the room.  Carefully dodging the maze, the officers made their way through the room and to a small door the led to a utility closet on the bow.  Krissy gestured toward the door with her gun and Myers reached out to pull it open.  With a sudden jerk, the door flung open to reveal a very scared young man hiding in the anchor chains, no gun in sight.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Hello, Anthony,” Krissy said.  “Come on out.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-5577321220164642458?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/OgL2sphSvWY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/5577321220164642458/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/04/colt-crawford-chapter-15-thursday.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/5577321220164642458?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/5577321220164642458?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/OgL2sphSvWY/colt-crawford-chapter-15-thursday.html" title="Colt Crawford - Chapter 15 (Thursday)" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/04/colt-crawford-chapter-15-thursday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEEGSXY5eyp7ImA9WxFSEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-4175986056052290536</id><published>2010-04-14T06:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T06:43:48.823-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-04-14T06:43:48.823-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Coast guard pursuit" /><title>Colt Crawford - Chapter 15 (Wednesday)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KwOxBkd7FzdqXotQ5lnLoTyeBNo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KwOxBkd7FzdqXotQ5lnLoTyeBNo/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KwOxBkd7FzdqXotQ5lnLoTyeBNo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KwOxBkd7FzdqXotQ5lnLoTyeBNo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;“So what do we do now?” Colt asked the captain above the roar of the engine.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“We follow her,” the captain replied.  “This boat has enough fuel to go 250 miles without stopping.  I am going to guess that she didn’t bother topping off her tanks before leaving, so we can out last them.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Can’t you just lay down a spike strip or try a PIT maneuver?”  Colt joked.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“That would be nice.”  The captain kept his eyes fixed on Destiny’s boat and chuckled as he responded.  “Tell me more about this girl,” he added.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Colt was standing on the deck of the utility boat next to the captain.  He glanced toward My Destiny which was about 100 yards ahead of them and then began to describe what he knew about the woman.  “Her name is Destiny Godinez.  She also goes by the alias Jailene Arroyo.  Grew up rich and spoiled.  Her dad actually led us to her when he realized that all his doting had created a monster.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“And her crime?”  the captain asked.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“She got hooked up with a bookie in town.  She financed his operation, but took it very personally when someone didn’t pay up.  Her MO was to cozy up to young college boys and hire them to do her dirty work.  She’s been MIA for the last couple of days, but we caught a break when one of the girls at the university told us that her dad had worked with Jailene’s,” Colt stopped and corrected himself, “Destiny’s dad.”   &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Captain” one of the crew members on the coast guard boat said, “The fuel dock just confirmed that &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;My Destiny&lt;/span&gt; has not fueled up in the last six months.  I checked with the harbor master and he has no records of anything more than day cruises during that time, so the odds are high that she is low on fuel.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The captain thanked the crewman for the information and added, “I’m guessing this won’t last long.”  By now the two boats had left the channel that served as a breakwater separating the harbor from the open sea.  The swells were mild, but the ride was definitely rougher.  Colt realized why he had not spent much time on the sea as he watched as the bow of the 45 footer bounce up and down with clock-like precision as the pursuit continued.  Speeds were around 15 knots, but Colt’s stomach was in 50.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“You don’t look so good.”  It was Krissy this time.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“It’s that obvious?” Colt replied, his face a pasty white.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“This boat is new,” the captain said.  “If you’re going to lose it, aim overboard.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Colt thought for a second and then realized it was actually good advice.  Three seconds later his head was hanging over the side of the coast guard’s newest toy trying his best not to let the wind blow anything back on his own shirt.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Krissy didn’t laugh at the moment, Colt looked too pathetic, but she relished the thought of the conversations that would come up once they were back on dry land.  “Feel better?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Actually, yes,” Colt said straightening up.  “But my breath is awful.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Here,” the captain said handing him a tin of Altoids breath mints.  “Since you got it all overboard you can have a prize.”  Colt chuckled and took three of the mints all at once.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another report came from one of the crewmen.  He had been using binoculars to study Destiny’s boat.  How he kept anything in focus with the rocking and rolling of the boats was beyond Colt’s imagination.  “We have only seen the two people on the boat.  No sign of anyone below deck.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Have your weapons ready, but don’t fire,” the captain ordered.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minutes later &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;My Destiny&lt;/span&gt; began to sputter and slow.  “I can’t believe Daddy just gave her that boat and didn’t teach her how to put fuel in it,” the captain said shaking his head.  “Some people have no business in the ocean.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-4175986056052290536?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/tBJZhD7Pd_0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/4175986056052290536/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/04/colt-crawford-chapter-15-wednesday.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/4175986056052290536?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/4175986056052290536?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/tBJZhD7Pd_0/colt-crawford-chapter-15-wednesday.html" title="Colt Crawford - Chapter 15 (Wednesday)" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/04/colt-crawford-chapter-15-wednesday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEQDR3o9eip7ImA9WxFSEUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-6934875024033595515</id><published>2010-04-13T06:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T06:46:16.462-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-04-13T06:46:16.462-07:00</app:edited><title>Colt Crawford - Chapter 15 (Tuesday)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Bstj4nWxmYMVf58gLbULVo3G6aU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Bstj4nWxmYMVf58gLbULVo3G6aU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Bstj4nWxmYMVf58gLbULVo3G6aU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Bstj4nWxmYMVf58gLbULVo3G6aU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;On the way to the marina, Colt had called the harbor master and confirmed that the boat was still in its slip.  Krissy’s unmarked cruiser pulled into the parking lot, not bothering to land between any set of lines.  Colt and Krissy jumped out and made their way to gate 4 where the harbor master met them with a key and pointed out the boat they were seeking at the end of the row.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Colt could hear the twin diesel engines idling as he passed through the open gate.  As he followed the harbor master’s pointing finger, the massive yacht began to slowly pull away from the dock. As the boat turned toward the open waters, the letters painted across the stern said it all: &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;My Destiny&lt;/span&gt;.  Colt envisioned a scene he had watched in a hundred movies where he ran down the dock and jumped  onto the boat just before it slipped out of sight.  Fortunately, his senses and fleeting youth got the better of him and he quickly formed a Plan B.  “Call the coast guard,” he said to the harbor master who quickly produced a cell phone and made the call.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“They are on their way,” he replied his finger gesturing toward the coast guard station.  “You can meet them at their boat three rows down.”  Colt and Krissy thanked the harbor master for his efforts and sprinted toward the station.  The brand new 45 foot response boat was already idling with a crew of four ready to go as Colt and Krissy climbed aboard.   Krissy took the liberty of informing the captain of the situation.  Catching &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;My Destiny&lt;/span&gt; wouldn’t be difficult for this utility boat, especially given the slow speeds required in the harbor.  Colt was betting that whoever Destiny Godinez had hired to pilot her boat was not the criminal type.  He wouldn’t have any incentive to speed through the harbor.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;What Colt didn’t count on, however, was Destiny’s resolve to avoid capture.  Just as the coast guard boat started down the channel in a relatively slow pursuit of the 50 foot yacht, the wake behind the big boat deepened and its twin diesels revved as fast as they could go.  Given the massive size of the boat, speeds remained under 30 knots, although the coast guards’ new boat had the ability to reach as high as 42 knots should the need arise.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;It didn’t take long to bring the utility boat alongside &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;My Destiny&lt;/span&gt;.  From his position on the deck, one of the crewmen noticed two people on the bridge of the yacht.  One was the pilot, the other a woman with a small caliber revolver in her hand.  Seconds later, the gun turned and fired on the coast guard boat.  The captain backed off of his position to restrategize.  The simple stop had just gotten much more complicated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-6934875024033595515?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/AhUhui5vO6c" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/6934875024033595515/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/04/colt-crawford-chapter-15-tuesday.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/6934875024033595515?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/6934875024033595515?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/AhUhui5vO6c/colt-crawford-chapter-15-tuesday.html" title="Colt Crawford - Chapter 15 (Tuesday)" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/04/colt-crawford-chapter-15-tuesday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUBRH0-fCp7ImA9WxFSEEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-4036611715638130624</id><published>2010-04-12T06:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T06:50:55.354-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-04-12T06:50:55.354-07:00</app:edited><title>Colt Crawford - Chapter 15 (Monday)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Q_0MNjkYLuacdQJxfWIuj9K-7O4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Q_0MNjkYLuacdQJxfWIuj9K-7O4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Q_0MNjkYLuacdQJxfWIuj9K-7O4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Q_0MNjkYLuacdQJxfWIuj9K-7O4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;The headquarters for Destiny Investment Services was located in a five story office building in the downtown area only a few blocks from the beach.  The first two floors were leased out to smaller businesses, while Destiny’s offices occupied the top three floors.  Krissy parked her unmarked police cruiser at a metered spot on the street right in front of the building and dropped a couple of quarters in the machine on her way inside.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lobby was nicely appointed with marble floors and a semi-extravagant chandelier.  It was surrounded by cherry wood walls that had niches carved out for marble sculptures.  The sculptures depicted powerful horses in various poses.  Each horse had a muscles that rippled across their chests and legs and gave the feeling of power to anyone who looked upon them.  Clearly the idea was to build upon the egos of those who entered the building and make them feel even more powerful than they already were.  The opulence was not an unexpected situation for the two detectives since Colt had pulled up the company’s website on his iPhone on the way over.  Destiny Investments specialized in attracting a high dollar clientele and had perfected the art of treating its clients like royalty.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Pressing the button on the wall, Colt stepped back to wait for the elevator door to open.  He and Krissy didn’t know what to expect when they met the father of the prime suspect in their investigation, but they had several questions that they wanted to answer.  The first thing they would need to know is the real name of Jailene Arroyo. The elevator let out a polite ding and the doors opened.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The fifth floor office of Luis Godinez was as impressive as the lobby.  After his assistant had notified him of their arrival, Mr. Godinez had invited them to come in.  “We won’t be long,” Krissy promised before starting her questioning.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;She pulled a photo of Jailene Arroyo from a file and placed it on the large desk.  “Is this your daughter?” Krissy began.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Godinez glanced at the picture and nodded his head.  “What has she done?” he asked.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“That’s what we are trying to find out,” Colt replied.  “Can you tell us her real name?”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Godinez hesitated.  He obviously knew his daughter well enough to have expected her to get into trouble, yet it still bothered him.  He took a deep breath and replied, “Destiny.  Destiny Godinez.  I named this company after her.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Over the course of their questioning, Godinez revealed that his primary motivation in life was to rise above the stereotyped image that haunted most Mexicans in California.  He was determined to give his kids a better life than he had had growing up in the various farming communities that kept the Mexicans employed.  In his passion for success, he had failed to realize that he was spoiling his youngest daughter to the point of failing her.  “I created her,” he said.  “She never had to wait fro anything in her life, and now look what she’s done. She needs to be caught just so she can learn.   I’ll help you in any way I can.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Do you have any idea where she might have gone?”  Krissy added.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“She has a boat in the harbor.  She always goes there when she’s upset.  I’d start with that.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Colt and Krissy thanked Luis Godinez for his time and headed back to the elevator.  Their pace was quickened as they walked through the lobby and toward the car.  Godinez had mentioned that Destiny loved to be out on the sea, but had no clue how to handle the 50 foot yacht.  She didn’t employ a full-time captain, but had a few guys she could call whenever she wanted to take the boat out.  “If she hasn’t hired a crew, she can’t move the boat,’ Krissy said.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Let’s just hope we get there before she does,” Colt added.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-4036611715638130624?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/7J6AfbKy93A" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/4036611715638130624/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/04/colt-crawford-chapter-15-monday.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/4036611715638130624?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/4036611715638130624?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/7J6AfbKy93A/colt-crawford-chapter-15-monday.html" title="Colt Crawford - Chapter 15 (Monday)" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/04/colt-crawford-chapter-15-monday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEEARXYzeCp7ImA9WxFTFU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-4718981419677216534</id><published>2010-04-05T19:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T19:57:24.880-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-04-05T19:57:24.880-07:00</app:edited><title>Spring Break!</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Xim39ZQ6DJ0JlXOaJGFt99L9DpY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Xim39ZQ6DJ0JlXOaJGFt99L9DpY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Xim39ZQ6DJ0JlXOaJGFt99L9DpY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Xim39ZQ6DJ0JlXOaJGFt99L9DpY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;The Novel Blogger is going camping this week where there is no internet access.  The story will resume next week!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-4718981419677216534?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/toRcTKHvFPM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/4718981419677216534/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/04/spring-break.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/4718981419677216534?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/4718981419677216534?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/toRcTKHvFPM/spring-break.html" title="Spring Break!" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/04/spring-break.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU8GSX84eip7ImA9WxFSEEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-7239070252262707809</id><published>2010-04-02T06:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T06:10:28.132-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-04-12T06:10:28.132-07:00</app:edited><title>Colt Crawford - Chapter 14 (Friday)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Tl2j2ayKuaZZSlS1BaaXOuwQKOc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Tl2j2ayKuaZZSlS1BaaXOuwQKOc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Tl2j2ayKuaZZSlS1BaaXOuwQKOc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Tl2j2ayKuaZZSlS1BaaXOuwQKOc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Kevin’s sister lived in a dorm on the university campus.  As outsiders navigating their way around the vast campus, finding the dorm was not as easy as they had hoped it would be.  The attendant at the booth near the main entrance had given them directions and told them where to park, but it was still as hefty walk from the visitors’ parking lot to the building.  “She’d better be here,” Colt said.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The dorm building was older, having been built in the 1970s.  The square architecture and dark moldings did little to disguise its vintage, although the carpet was new and the walls were freshly painted and clean.  Krissy didn’t have to knock on the door to room 225 when they arrived.  It was propped open and a group of four college aged girls were inside.  The mood was somber and three of them were consoling the fourth, presumably Kevin’s sister.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;As Colt and Krissy appeared, they looked up and took notice.  Krissy, putting on her most sympathetic demeanor, spoke gently and calmly to the hurting sister.  “Are you Taylor Barnes?” Samantha began.  After receiving a faint nod, she continued.  “Would you mind if I asked a few questions about your brother?  It will help us find out what happened.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The room was crowded, but Krissy needed to be on the same level as Taylor.  She pulled a chair from under the desk and sat down beside the bed where the girls were sitting.  “Did your brother have any enemies.  Anyone that was would want to hurt him?”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“I told him to stop.”  Taylor wiped a tear from her cheek, her lips trembling as she spoke.  Her blonde hair was pulled back into a neat pony tail, but her bloodshot eyes and puffy cheeks altered her normal appearance.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Stop what?” Krissy prodded, although she had a pretty good idea where this was going.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“He made bets on everything.  I think he got in too deep and couldn’t pay off some of his losses.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Did he ever ask you for money?”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“A few times.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“When was the most recent time?”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“I saw him over the weekend and he wanted to borrow $500.  I told him I didn’t have it.”  She began to sob more heavily as she unnecessarily absorbed the blame for her brother’s death.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Did you ever know this girl?”  Krissy held up a picture of Jailene.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Taylor glanced upwards and said, “That’s his old girlfriend.  I never liked her.  There was something phony about her.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;One of Taylor’s friends spoke up.  “My dad knows her dad.  He said the guy spoils her.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Your dad knows her dad?”  Krissy almost jumped out of her chair, but she managed to contain her excitement somewhat.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“He was visiting me a few months ago when Kevin and Jailene stopped by.  After they left, my dad mentioned that he had seen her before years ago at a company party.  Her dad runs the investment firm where my dad works.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Krissy got the names that she needed from the friend and thanked the girls for their time.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The long walk back to the parking lot made for a much lighter mood than the room they had just left.  “Let’s go have us a little talk with Jailene’s daddy,” Krissy said with a smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Results---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they meet with Jailene’s dad, does he&lt;br /&gt;A) Cooperate on the surface, but later help Jailene hide - o%&lt;br /&gt;B) Refuse to believe his daughter is involved at all - 40%&lt;br /&gt;C) Do everything he can to help because he realizes that he created a monster who needs to be stopped.  - 60%&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-7239070252262707809?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/gzD1qdXyRXE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/7239070252262707809/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/04/colt-crawford-chapter-14-friday.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/7239070252262707809?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/7239070252262707809?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/gzD1qdXyRXE/colt-crawford-chapter-14-friday.html" title="Colt Crawford - Chapter 14 (Friday)" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/04/colt-crawford-chapter-14-friday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0EFQnwzfSp7ImA9WxFTEU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-4811519327419242799</id><published>2010-04-01T06:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-01T06:46:53.285-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-04-01T06:46:53.285-07:00</app:edited><title>Colt Crawford - Chapter 14 (Thursday)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Vjldj2ngFVAPR6lFu-VDQnA1NQA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Vjldj2ngFVAPR6lFu-VDQnA1NQA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Vjldj2ngFVAPR6lFu-VDQnA1NQA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Vjldj2ngFVAPR6lFu-VDQnA1NQA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;**Since I missed the story on Monday, voting will take place after a special Friday post tomorrow.  Hang in there for one more day!&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The police station was the place where Krissy did most of her heavy thinking.  She had witnesses, evidence and ideas, but it was at her desk where she turned those things into plausible theories.  “What we know is that Mathis takes bets on sporting events and Jailene fronts him the money to keep the business afloat.  When one of the clients doesn’t pay, Jailene takes care of it.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“So we can assume that Jailene was behind the attack on Samantha as a message to Creighton,” Colt added.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“We can also assume that, if Mathis is telling the truth, she is behind the attack on Jasmine,” Krissy said.  “Because she was jealous that he was interested in his assistant.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“If Jailene is such a jealous woman, why did she kill Kevin?” Colt wondered aloud.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“To protect herself,” Krissy said.  “Kevin was the key to her operation and he knew more than he told us.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Now that he is dead, maybe some of his friends will be more willing to talk.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“It’s a good place to start.”  Krissy picked up her phone and dialed her friend at the university police.  After a brief conversation, she had the names of three known acquaintances of Kevin.  The officer also gave Krissy the name of Kevin’s sister who was also a student at the university.  Between those four leads, someone had to know something about Jailene Arroyo.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“I’ll have Sanchez and Holt talk to the friends.  I want to start with the sister,” Krissy said.  “You up for going back to school, Sanchez?” she said.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Sure, just tell me what you need.”  Krissy briefed the two detectives on the latest developments in the investigation.  Over the past few days it had become clear that this case was much bigger than one detective could handle.  To help offset some of the workload, the lieutenant had assigned Sanchez and Holt to help with the investigation.  Since Sanchez had been involved on the night of Samantha’s attack, he was familiar with parts of the story, but Holt was completely out of the loop.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;As she caught them up to speed, Krissy pointed out the various aspects of the white board that she was using to diagram the investigation.  The two detectives seemed to soak up every detail and were on board with naming Jailene as the prime suspect.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Sanchez was young for a detective, but not too young. He was in his late twenties, maybe early thirties and had a rugged look about him.  Despite his Hispanic surname, he had been raised near Montgomery, Alabama and his dialect did little to disguise his hometown.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Holt was a local.  He knew Santa Barbara inside out having been born and raised on the Central Coast.  He was a little older than Sanchez and had a carefully manicured and clean cut image.  Together, Holt and Sanchez were a comical team.  Sanchez’s southern drawl coupled with Holt’s business-like demeanor often brought frustration to the team and a laugh to those who watched them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-4811519327419242799?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/sl-3_R_8K5Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/4811519327419242799/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/04/colt-crawford-chapter-14-thursday.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/4811519327419242799?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/4811519327419242799?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/sl-3_R_8K5Q/colt-crawford-chapter-14-thursday.html" title="Colt Crawford - Chapter 14 (Thursday)" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/04/colt-crawford-chapter-14-thursday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEIHRHs4fip7ImA9WxFTEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-8842990403598354217</id><published>2010-03-31T06:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T06:35:35.536-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-31T06:35:35.536-07:00</app:edited><title>Colt Crawford - Chapter 14 (Wednesday)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lP6ufPLCZZqoCO61fPXEvS516XM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lP6ufPLCZZqoCO61fPXEvS516XM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lP6ufPLCZZqoCO61fPXEvS516XM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lP6ufPLCZZqoCO61fPXEvS516XM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;“What is it?” Colt asked.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Krissy pulled the photos out of the envelope and handed them to Colt.  “Those are my parents,” she said. “She’s sending me a message.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“So now the race is on.  We have to stop Jailene before she gets to your parents.”  Colt was already thinking of a plan even as he said the words.  “She hasn’t given us a deadline yet.  The crazies always give a deadline.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Never use the words ‘crazies’ and ‘always’ in the same sentence.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;On the outside Krissy was wearing her brave cop face, but this was beginning to get very personal.  Underneath her solid exterior, Colt could see the fear in her eyes.  He could see pain and anger and he felt his need for justice being coupled with a need to protect Krissy from this terror that was beginning to creep around her shell and permeate her being.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“We’ll get her,” Colt assured her.  “But first we need to protect your parents.  Let’s send them somewhere.  I’ll take care of all the arrangements.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Taking care of the arrangements was really quite simple for Colt.  Once he had all the information he needed from Krissy, he dialed his office and spoke to the receptionist.  “Hi, Jamaica.  It’s Colt.”  They got the small talk out of the way for a few minutes before he handed off the assignment.  Turning his attention back to Krissy, Colt announced, “They will leave first thing in the morning.  We’ll have a shuttle service pick them up and take them to the airport.  Now,”  he paused.  “Let’s catch Jailene Arroyo.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;** Author's note:  The kids are being really loud right now and I can't think.  More to come tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-8842990403598354217?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/y0d1B4b3jeM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/8842990403598354217/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/colt-crawford-chapter-14-wednesday.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/8842990403598354217?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/8842990403598354217?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/y0d1B4b3jeM/colt-crawford-chapter-14-wednesday.html" title="Colt Crawford - Chapter 14 (Wednesday)" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/colt-crawford-chapter-14-wednesday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEIMQHo4fCp7ImA9WxFTEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-2461071298416304486</id><published>2010-03-30T06:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T06:36:21.434-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-31T06:36:21.434-07:00</app:edited><title>Colt Crawford - Chapter 14 (Tuesday)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6CNjAqf2vQACuTKc3mW1pvs1P0w/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6CNjAqf2vQACuTKc3mW1pvs1P0w/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6CNjAqf2vQACuTKc3mW1pvs1P0w/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6CNjAqf2vQACuTKc3mW1pvs1P0w/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;“Jailene Arroyo.  Thirty five, single, rents a small apartment in Santa Barbara that she never uses.  According to Mathis she’s rich, but there are no records of her anywhere.”  Colt ticked off the little that they knew about their prime suspect.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Don’t forget vindictive,” Krissy added.  “And I think we can safely assume that the name is an alias.  She’s also involved with Steven Mathis.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“With Mathis out on bail, they could still be working together.”  Colt thought back to the conversation they had had with Mathis at the police station.  At the mention of her name his demeanor had changed.  “No matter what he says, he still has the hots for her.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Colt and Krissy were sitting at the small cubicle that Krissy called her office.  There decor was somewhat bland, the beige walls interrupted only by the occasional memo that one of the detectives had posted as a reminder.  Behind her, a freestanding white board told the story of the lives they were investigating.  It began with a picture of Samantha Woods and progressed to Mathis, then to Kevin, the university bookie.  Next to him was a photo of Jailene Arroyo.  At the bottom was a final picture of Jasmine Kennedy, Mathis’ assistant who was attacked at the university.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Right in the middle, at the bottom of the board, was a picture of Creighton Ford.  “We have two victims, one attempted suicide, and three suspects.”  Krissy was really talking more to herself than to anyone in particular as she studied the photos.  Then she looked right at Jailene’s picture and spoke to it.  “Where are you, you little rich princess?  Where do you hide?”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“She must know we are on to her by now.  I would bet she’s using a new alias,” Colt said.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Or she’s gone back to her real identity, which is where the money is,” Krissy speculated.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Krissy’s phone rang and she pulled it off the clip on her belt to answer it.  “Malone,” she said without expression.  “Where is it?  I’ll be right there.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Uniforms just found a car with a banged up right front fender down by the beach.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“And that makes them think it is the one that hit us last night?  Don’t they need more evidence than just  a banged up car?” Colt asked.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Oh, yeah.  Did I mention that Kevin was inside it?  Dead.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Colt could feel the whole case change in the blink of an eye.  This had been an assault and battery case, not a murder investigation.  Now the stakes had just been raised.  Together they made their way to the parking lot and arrived at the scene within only a few minutes.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Sitting in the front seat of his 1992 Camaro was the body of a sturdy college boy with a troubled, yet bright future.  Clutched in his arms, the detective noticed a manilla envelope.  “Did you open the envelope?” Krissy asked the uniformed officer who had made the find.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“No, ma’am.  We just pulled his ID online from the car’s plates.  Haven’t touched the scene,” a well-trained young man replied.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Slipping her hands into white rubber gloves, Krissy examined the body.  One gunshot wound to the center of his forehead.  “Someone wanted him dead,”  she commented as she reached down and carefully disengaged the envelope from the boy’s hands and lifted the flap.  She glanced inside and gasped as she pulled out the contents.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-2461071298416304486?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/baIq1jMOKpU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/2461071298416304486/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/chapter-14-tuesday.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/2461071298416304486?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/2461071298416304486?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/baIq1jMOKpU/chapter-14-tuesday.html" title="Colt Crawford - Chapter 14 (Tuesday)" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/chapter-14-tuesday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUGRns7fyp7ImA9WxBaGEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-4308582962718609173</id><published>2010-03-25T06:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T07:50:27.507-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-29T07:50:27.507-07:00</app:edited><title>Colt Crawford - Chapter 13 (Thursday)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/C40I_u0sNBncuq6qNt_8-V72-SA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/C40I_u0sNBncuq6qNt_8-V72-SA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/C40I_u0sNBncuq6qNt_8-V72-SA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/C40I_u0sNBncuq6qNt_8-V72-SA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Don't forget that today is voting day. If you have read this during the voting period before and not voted, now is your chance to redeem yourself.  The buttons are on the right.  Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colt’s side of the car was undamaged,  but Krissy’s side was pinned against the tree.  “Are you hurt?” he asked.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Not bad,” Krissy said, “But I’m sure I’ll be sore tomorrow.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Colt glanced around and saw no other cars on the dark road.  “I think we are going to need a ride.”  He pulled his phone from his pocket and made a call. “This will be a busy place in a few minutes.”  As they sat in the darkness, safely strapped inside the damaged car, Colt reached his hand toward the black button on the dash.  To his surprise, it worked.  The motor began its faint hum and the top began to tuck neatly away behind the rear seat.  “Might as well enjoy the stars.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Krissy smiled as she looked up.  “That makes it a little easier for me to get out too.”  Colt slid his hand over toward Krissy and let it rest on hers.  She felt the comforting squeeze and was thankful she was not alone.  A thin smile spread across her face as she looked directly at Colt.  The couple sat in silence as they waited for the arrival of flashing lights to come to the rescue.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Wednesday morning was rough.  As a precaution, both Colt and Krissy had been taken to the hospital for an evaluation.  They were released at 3:00 in the morning and both were ready for bed.  “I’ll get us a ride,” Krissy said.  “I happen to know people who are awake this time of day.”  She pulled out her phone and made a quick call.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Colt was grateful when the officer dropped him off at the hotel.  With eyes half shut and soreness setting in, he made his way up to his room.  It only took a minute for him to give in to the call of sleep.  It had been a long day.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The sound of the waves crashing on the shore provided a soothing accompaniment to the glow of the morning sun as its warm rays crept around the edges of the hotel curtain casting a dim light into the darkened room.  Colt rolled over and stared at the clock for several minutes before the numbers came into focus.  It was just after 9:00, yet it felt like the middle of the night.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Despite his muddled head, Colt decided to get up and face the day.  After pulling the curtain back and allowing the sun to fully illuminate the room, Colt took a quick shower and decided that he had better find a place to rent a car.  His iPhone provided him with a list of choices and after only a few minutes he had a car reserved a few blocks inland.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;After a quick bite to eat at the continental breakfast bar, Colt began the short walk to the rental agency.  His muscles were tight in places and his left knee had some bruising, but other than that, he was fine.  The sun was warm despite the cool air and Colt was beginning to feel refreshed.  His mind ticked off what he knew about the accident and the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to find Jailene Arroyo.  A block later he began forming a list of all the things he would need to do now that his car had been wrecked.  He would have to start with the insurance company.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;By the time he reached the next intersection his mind had drifted to the “what if” stage.  What if the accident had been worse.  What if someone had been hurt?  What if Krissy had gone to the chief's alone?  He grew angry as he thought about what could have happened. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;It didn’t take long for him to transition to the “why” stage in his mind.  Why did this happen?  Did God want it to happen?  Did God make it happen?  His anger intensified as he thought.  It was not anger at God, he was angry that someone had tried to hurt him and Krissy and he became determined to hunt the person down at all costs.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Then his mind flashed back to the verse he had heard in the small L.A. church on Sunday.  “Consider it pure joy when you face trials.”  This was a trial, but joy was not on his mind.  Revenge was.  Or maybe, more appropriately,  justice, but either way it involved the guilty being caught and punished and Colt knew it would consume him.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Results---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Krissy is going to receive more threats to back off the investigation.  What should the next threat be?   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A) Pictures of her parents delivered to her at the police station - 42%&lt;br /&gt;B) Slashed tires on her car - 42%&lt;br /&gt;C) A phone call - 14%&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-4308582962718609173?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/3EvhHJ3GknQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/4308582962718609173/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/colt-crawford-chapter-13-thursday.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/4308582962718609173?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/4308582962718609173?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/3EvhHJ3GknQ/colt-crawford-chapter-13-thursday.html" title="Colt Crawford - Chapter 13 (Thursday)" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/colt-crawford-chapter-13-thursday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkYARXcycCp7ImA9WxBaFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-2746033556897805233</id><published>2010-03-24T06:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T06:42:24.998-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-24T06:42:24.998-07:00</app:edited><title>Colt Crawford - Chapter 13 (Wednesday)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NMiwQzqra4D6eYEG3zQypzLPUC4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NMiwQzqra4D6eYEG3zQypzLPUC4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NMiwQzqra4D6eYEG3zQypzLPUC4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NMiwQzqra4D6eYEG3zQypzLPUC4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;It was just after 10:00 when Colt and Krissy began to wind their way down from the Chief’s hilltop home.  The moon wasn’t quite full, but it did shed some light on the dark road.  Colt was carefully maneuvering the car back toward the main road that would take them back to sea level when he glanced at the rear view mirror and noticed two headlights approaching.  At first he thought nothing of it, but when he realized that it was traveling at much faster rate than his car was going, he began to get nervous.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;Creighton Ford sat alone in his living room.  He had taken a huge gamble and, for once, it had paid off.  His own stunned silence was drowned out by the sound of the screaming Texas fans on his TV set.  No one had predicted that Texas could defeat the undefeated Gators, but it had just happened and Creighton’s financial worries were about to end.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The feelings of relief and invincibility that flowed through his veins made his mind jump to the next big event.  The Super Bowl.  Could he pick the final score for that game too?  Images of financial security flooded his inflated ego.  No more day job.  A new TV.  A place on the beach.  It was all too good to be true.  But for now, he had a payment to make to save his girlfriend’s life.  Even if the relationship was doomed by his suicide attempt, he still owed it to Samantha to call off the killers.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;The impact of the speeding vehicle against the back of Colt’s car was sudden.  The angle of the carefully planned collision caused the back end of the BMW to slide to the right and veer toward the side of the road.  As the convertible skidded across the dark and narrow street, fear gripped its two occupants.  Colt was fighting the wheel, attempting to steer back onto the road just as a second impact rattled the car.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The once pristine vehicle with the scarcely used copilot seat came to rest with the passenger door wedged up against a large oak tree.  The side-impact airbags had deployed, thus cushioning Krissy’s head from the window, but doing little to prevent rattled nerves.   &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Struggling to clear his head, Colt glanced out his window to see two red tail lights disappear in the distance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-2746033556897805233?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/xsUd2YGdmjc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/2746033556897805233/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/colt-crawford-chapter-13-wednesday.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/2746033556897805233?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/2746033556897805233?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/xsUd2YGdmjc/colt-crawford-chapter-13-wednesday.html" title="Colt Crawford - Chapter 13 (Wednesday)" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/colt-crawford-chapter-13-wednesday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0MEQX4zeyp7ImA9WxBaE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-1699552188518661531</id><published>2010-03-23T06:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T06:36:40.083-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-23T06:36:40.083-07:00</app:edited><title>Colt Crawford - Chapter 13 (Tuesday)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eqT7PQ_NZCl4byQRPSUPknZ4dkU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eqT7PQ_NZCl4byQRPSUPknZ4dkU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eqT7PQ_NZCl4byQRPSUPknZ4dkU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eqT7PQ_NZCl4byQRPSUPknZ4dkU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Krissy handed the note to Colt.  He scanned it and realized that their investigation must be on the right track.  “If this is from Jailene, she’s not nearly as smart as Mathis says she is.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“If she’s stupid enough to threaten me, she’s stupid enough to follow through with it.”  Krissy flipped the note over in her hands looking for anything that might tip her off as to where Jailene Arroyo might be hiding.  “I can’t let her intimidate me, but we need to be careful.  She’s got money, connections, and 25-to-life reasons to want us to stop digging into this.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“We can forget about it for now.  As long as we are on our way to watch a football game, she’ll think we dropped it.  We are safe for tonight.”  Always the gentleman, Colt offered his arm to Krissy.  With a slight blush she gently placed her hand inside his elbow and walked toward the car.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Chief Brown’s house was located about five miles inland and was situated high atop one of the countless hills that lines the Santa Barbara coast.  The view of the city lights and ocean below was spectacular as the road weaved its way up the bluff.  The outside of the house presented an older, more modest facade, but it was deceptively simple.  Given the hillside construction, the main entry was actually on the upper floor.  The lower floor, which was not visible from the street, was built into the cliff and offered breathtaking views of the ocean far below.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Colt rang the doorbell and listened as the chime played inside the home.  The chief himself, dressed in civilian attire, answered the door with his wife by his side.  “It’s so good to see you again, Krissy,” Vicki Brown said as she gathered Krissy into a matronly embrace.  “Please, come in.”  Chief Brown extended his hand and Colt met him halfway.  His grip was firm and friendly.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“The game’s about to start.  We have plenty of food and lots to drink, so make yourself at home.”  The chief escorted his guests through a wide hallway and past the recently remodeled kitchen.  Tucked into the back corner of the house was a large informal living room lined with floor to ceiling windows along the back wall.  A flat screen TV hung on one side and a large sectional couch was nestled into the opposite corner allowing anyone who sat upon it to take in a football game and the impressive view at the same time.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“My guess is that Florida is going to have this thing won by half-time,” Chief Brown announced as the opening kickoff sailed across the vivid screen and into the hands of a Florida player. “You asked me about my health earlier, so clearly you have been busy detecting something.  That’s what you detectives do, right?”  Krissy nodded.  “I’ve been at this game long enough to know when something is going on.  What is it you are looking into?  I have nothing to hide.”   &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Krissy, feeling as if she really could trust the man began.  “You were seen associating with one of our key suspects and we need to clear your name in order to continue with the investigation.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The chief looked surprised.  “And who is this suspect of yours.  I do try to avoid the criminal element in my social life.  It’s bad for P.R.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Krissy explained that she and Colt had seen Chief Brown at Mathis’ office and that she had recalled his suspicious extended vacation a few year back.  She really wasn’t employing any interrogation techniques at the moment, rather she was talking to a friend.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“As I said, I have nothing to hide...anymore,”  Brown said with a sigh of resignation.  “Two years ago I was diagnosed with prostate cancer.  I kept it a secret while I was undergoing treatment so as to not disrupt the flow of things within the department.  I preferred my privacy during that time.  I’m fine now.  As for Mathis, I only know him because I bought my boat from him.  We’ve been friendly ever since.  He’s a bit odd, though, so I’m not surprised if he has a side I haven’t seen. What exactly are you suspecting him of?”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“He’s a yacht broker by day and a bookie by night.  We think the attacks we are investigating have to do with attempts to collect on unpaid balances,” Colt said.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The conversation continued off and on through out the first half of the game.  By half-time, the chief’s prediction was right on.  Florida was up 17-3.  “You sure you haven’t put a little wager on this game, Chief?” Colt asked with a grin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-1699552188518661531?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/-kceZC2Pw5g" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/1699552188518661531/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/colt-crawford-chapter-13-tuesday.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/1699552188518661531?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/1699552188518661531?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/-kceZC2Pw5g/colt-crawford-chapter-13-tuesday.html" title="Colt Crawford - Chapter 13 (Tuesday)" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/colt-crawford-chapter-13-tuesday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0MARXs_fSp7ImA9WxBaE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-1101600958756689876</id><published>2010-03-22T06:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T06:37:24.545-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-23T06:37:24.545-07:00</app:edited><title>Colt Crawford - Chapter 13 (Monday)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kGGh560cYeyF-CQCtqY-G1BG3cA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kGGh560cYeyF-CQCtqY-G1BG3cA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kGGh560cYeyF-CQCtqY-G1BG3cA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kGGh560cYeyF-CQCtqY-G1BG3cA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Krissy’s work schedule kept her busy.  As a result she spent a lot more time out of her house than she did in it.  On the bright side she was rarely in her house long enough to get it dirty, but conversely, she was rarely home long enough to get it clean.  Early Tuesday evening, Krissy busied herself cleaning the kitchen while she waited for Colt to arrive.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The plan was for him to pick her up at home so they could drive to Chief Brown’s house for the big football game together.  As she rinsed the few dishes that had been left out, she realized that she was nervous and it had nothing to do with making a social visit to her boss’s house.  She was nervous about Colt.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Krissy couldn’t help but notice that her relationship with Colt could very easily turn into more than just a professional arrangement.  There was something about him that was different from other guys.  She could see it in his deep brown eyes each time he looked at her and she knew he could see the same thing in hers.  An undeniable attraction existed between them and it was something that she was going to have to face.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The nagging thought that kept eating at her was the lack of any kind of faith in his life.  Krissy had been raised in a Christian home and had made the decision to own that faith as her own while still a teenager.  She intended to honor that decision her whole life, but with the addition of Colt in the picture, there was an added degree of complication.  To Krissy, her faith in God was her highest priority.  It was the reason for living.  If Colt didn’t share that where would they find common ground?  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Krissy’s hands mindlessly rinsed the dishes then settled them into the scarcely used dishwasher.  Reflecting back on the last several days her mind sorted through countless thoughts and emotions.  The file cabinet in her head was opening and closing drawers so quickly that Krissy couldn’t even keep up with her own thoughts.  She had only known Colt for a weekend, but they had spent nearly every waking minute together.  Her mind ping-ponged  back and forth between what her head was telling her and what her heart was telling her.  She knew that, despite all of Colt’s wonderful qualities, he was not on board with her spiritually and to get involved with him would be a recipe for heartache down the road.  Then why did it feel so right to be with him?  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“God,” she prayed, her head bowed above the kitchen sink.  “Help me do the right thing.” &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The doorbell chimed her out of her state of self-reflection and back into the moment.  She glanced at the clock on the microwave.  Right on time.  Gathering up her coat and purse with trepidation and hope, she walked to the front door.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“This must be for you,” Colt said as he handed her an envelope.  “It was taped to the door.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;She almost didn’t open it, but something compelled her to take a quick peek inside.  As she read, Colt could see her face changing.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Is there something wrong?”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-1101600958756689876?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/P2vMC1erAEk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/1101600958756689876/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/chapter-13-monday.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/1101600958756689876?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/1101600958756689876?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/P2vMC1erAEk/chapter-13-monday.html" title="Colt Crawford - Chapter 13 (Monday)" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/chapter-13-monday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQAQHk7eCp7ImA9WxBaEks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-7067371525232618077</id><published>2010-03-18T06:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T06:09:01.700-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-22T06:09:01.700-07:00</app:edited><title>Colt Crawford - Chapter 12 (Thursday)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/muJyj-7YOKBBjAAET6gzg4c2Pq8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/muJyj-7YOKBBjAAET6gzg4c2Pq8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/muJyj-7YOKBBjAAET6gzg4c2Pq8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/muJyj-7YOKBBjAAET6gzg4c2Pq8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;“She’s a smart woman.”  Steven Mathis was looking down at the table, his breathing deep and methodical.  “You are going to have a hard time finding her.”  As Mathis revealed what he knew about Jailene Arroyo, Krissy took careful notes.  They had known each other for about five years and had been closer than just friends for much of that time.  &lt;br /&gt; Jailene came from a wealthy family and had no need to work.  Like so many other spoiled rich kids, she grew up bored of having everything handed to her.  When she met Mathis, she saw an excitement to his life that she had never known before.  He seemed so normal despite actually living on the edge of danger.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;As Mathis built his betting empire, he needed cash to keep him afloat while he waited to collect from some of his slower paying clients.  Jailene provided the line of credit he needed, but in turn, she took up a very personal interest in his accounts receivable. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Tell me about Creighton Ford.”  Krissy was digesting all that he had said and wanted to steer the conversation toward the crimes at hand.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“The guy couldn’t pick a winner if his life depended on it,” Mathis said, failing to see the irony of that statement.   “He owes me about $50,000.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“And he’s been paying you off in cash?  About $500 a month,” Krissy interjected.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Yeah.  I go to his work and he hands me the cash.  Jailene is actually the one who fronted that money and she was getting impatient about his slow payment plan.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“So you went after his girlfriend to send him a message?”  Colt was the one asking now.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“I never went after anyone.”  Mathis was frustrated, but he knew he was in deep if he didn’t talk.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Who attacked her then?”  Krissy prodded.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“I don’t know.  Jailene made those kind of arrangements.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“So this has happened before?”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Not like this.  No one has ever gotten hurt before, but there have been,”  he paused choosing his next word carefully, “reminders.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“So what happened with Jasmine?  Why would someone go after your assistant.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Jailene and I got into a fight last week.  I told her that Creighton was paying all he could and that we’ll never get more out of him.  She wasn’t happy with that.  She wanted all 50 grand right away.  She’s never had to wait for anything in her life.”  Mathis again collected his thoughts before continuing.  “She got mad and told me she would take care of it herself.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“And what about Jasmine?”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Somehow Jailene got it into her head that I was seeing Jasmine on the side.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Are you?”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“I’ve thought about it, but never did.  She’s totally innocent.  She handles the yacht sales side of things.  She’s never had anything to do with my other business  Like I said, Jailene may be spoiled, but she is smart.  You are going to have a hard time pinning this on her.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“She’s a criminal.  They are never that smart,” Krissy said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Results---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;As Colt and Krissy search for evidence of Jailene’s involvement, what should they find?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A) She is hunting down Creighton on her own - 50%&lt;br /&gt;B) She has gone into hiding - 0%&lt;br /&gt;C) She is now stalking Krissy in an effort to intimidate her into backing off - 50%&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-7067371525232618077?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/lOW3i4UXNo4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/7067371525232618077/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/colt-crawford-chapter-12-thursday.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/7067371525232618077?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/7067371525232618077?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/lOW3i4UXNo4/colt-crawford-chapter-12-thursday.html" title="Colt Crawford - Chapter 12 (Thursday)" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/colt-crawford-chapter-12-thursday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A04GSH49fyp7ImA9WxBbGUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-4027854432969427378</id><published>2010-03-17T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T06:45:29.067-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-18T06:45:29.067-07:00</app:edited><title>Colt Crawford - Chapter 12 (Wednesday)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NZ0rMtyaONxM0PMRCdi51-MWtQI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NZ0rMtyaONxM0PMRCdi51-MWtQI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NZ0rMtyaONxM0PMRCdi51-MWtQI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NZ0rMtyaONxM0PMRCdi51-MWtQI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;In a sparsely furnished room behind a small metal table, Mathis waited alone.  His hands were not cuffed and he was free to move around, but instead he chose to sit in the uncomfortable metal chair that had been tucked under one side of the table.  Krissy’s plan was to let him sweat for a few minutes.  The drive had been long, but a few extra minutes of uncertainty just might loosen up his tongue enough to reveal more than he intended.  Krissy and Colt watched from the one way glass that overlooked the room.  To Mathis, they were nothing more than his own reflection in a mirror, although, given his intelligence, he had to have suspected that they were there.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;When she was satisfied that he had waited long enough, Krissy made her entrance.  “Let’s get right to it, Mr. Mathis.”  She sat in the chair opposite the suspect while Colt sat beside her.  “We have reason to believe that you were involved in one, and perhaps two, assaults in the last three days.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Please tell me all about them.  I might as well know what you are attempting to nail me for,” he replied with a smug grin that revealed his arrogant attitude.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Krissy knew that they really had nothing solidly linking Mathis directly to the crimes, but the circumstantial evidence had been enough to cast suspicion.  She would need to get something out of him in the next few hours or she would be forced to let him go.  “Tell me about Jailene Arroyo.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“I don’t know anyone named Jailene Arroyo.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“You have never met her?”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“I said I don’t know her.”  Mathis was appearing evasive and Krissy took note of his body language.  He had looked toward the ceiling when he answered the question, avoiding eye contact with the detective.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Krissy dropped the photo of Jailene in front of Mathis.  “Maybe this will help.  Have you ever seen this woman?”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Mathis glanced at the photo and again, his dark eyes darted around the room.  They finally settled in on a target over Krissy’s shoulder.  “I told you I don’t know this Jailene woman.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“I never said this was Jailene,” Krissy retorted.  Mathis cringed slightly when she said this.  The next picture she pulled out of her file was a still shot taken from the video of Jailene entering The Yacherty.  “Did you see her last Thursday afternoon when she walked into your office 18 minutes after you walked in?”   &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Mathis was momentarily stunned.  He hadn’t anticipated being caught so easily.  He thought for a moment before answering.  Krissy silently counted the seconds in her head.  It seemed like forever before he spoke, but she was just barely reaching 12 when the words came.  “Okay.  We’ve gone out a few times.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“I need some truth from you, Mathis.  We’ve caught you in a lie, so now your credibility is shot.  Give me something to make me have a reason to believe you.” &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Mathis paused again before responding.  He took a deep breath, carefully weighing his options.  “I told you we’ve gone out a few times.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The room fell silent once again, this time Krissy was organizing her thoughts.  After several minutes of silence, she spoke, taking another stab in the dark.  “You tell us all you know about her and we drop the gambling and bookie charges.”  Again, she had no proof of this activity, but her gut told her that she could find it I she needed it. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Mathis looked as if he had been hit by a ton of bricks.  He sat in the chair deflated.  The police seemed to know about everything, yet he remained tight lipped, so Krissy continued.  “Fine.  I’ll file charges on extortion for your tactics of reclaiming the gambling debt from Creighton Ford.  Then we’ll tag on the assault and kidnapping of his girlfriend as a message to him.  Then we have you for assault on your own assistant, Jasmine.”  Krissy was about to say more, but she stopped short when a look of shock swept across Mathis’ face.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Jasmine?”  he said.  “When did this happen?  Is she okay?”  Either he was a phenomenal liar or he really didn’t know what had happened to Jasmine Kennedy.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Come on, Mathis!”  Krissy was firm, but she wanted to make sure he was being honest.  “We have evidence that your girlfriend was at the scene of the crime.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Jailene attacked Jasmine?  She’s gone to far.”  Mathis let out a tirade of profanities under his breath as he mentally tore her apart.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Up until this point, Colt had kept silent, opting instead to let the real police officer do her job.  Once Mathis had calmed down, he chimed in.  “Tell us about Jailene.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“We have a deal?”  Mathis questioned.  “I’ll tell you what I know about her and in exchange you leave my business out of this.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“I’ll do everything I can for you,” Krissy replied.  Of course, all she could do was tell the D.A. to go easy on him, but the ultimate decision was out of her hands.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Mathis took a deep breath, then began to speak.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-4027854432969427378?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/NMqfqpmHK9w" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/4027854432969427378/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/chapter-12-wednesday.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/4027854432969427378?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/4027854432969427378?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/NMqfqpmHK9w/chapter-12-wednesday.html" title="Colt Crawford - Chapter 12 (Wednesday)" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/chapter-12-wednesday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0EGSXY8fip7ImA9WxBbF0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-7254702051033822221</id><published>2010-03-16T21:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T21:20:28.876-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-16T21:20:28.876-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Fussy Baby" /><title>The Novel Snoozer</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uHeFuxYv1xjSHQsLLXVre5O1lHE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uHeFuxYv1xjSHQsLLXVre5O1lHE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uHeFuxYv1xjSHQsLLXVre5O1lHE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uHeFuxYv1xjSHQsLLXVre5O1lHE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;So Tuesday has come and gone and there is nothing new from The Novel Blogger.  Due to a lengthy battle with fussy baby syndrome, sleep has been inconsistent lately and early this morning the snooze button was a whole lot more attractive to me than a keyboard.  You will have to forgive the interruption, but rest assured, the story will continue!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-7254702051033822221?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/_qLOk6BRkYc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/7254702051033822221/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/novel-snoozer.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/7254702051033822221?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/7254702051033822221?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/_qLOk6BRkYc/novel-snoozer.html" title="The Novel Snoozer" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/novel-snoozer.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08NRHsyeyp7ImA9WxBbGUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-4637363347303100815</id><published>2010-03-15T15:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T06:44:55.593-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-18T06:44:55.593-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Online Novel" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Christian Novel" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Christian Fiction" /><title>Colt Crawford -Chapter 12 (Monday)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2V6ezub4fsWnwueGB_VcaWbs3Pc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2V6ezub4fsWnwueGB_VcaWbs3Pc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2V6ezub4fsWnwueGB_VcaWbs3Pc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2V6ezub4fsWnwueGB_VcaWbs3Pc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Buried in the back office of the art gallery, Colt and Krissy stared at frame after frame of the surveillance video.  The view of The Yachtery office was completely unobstructed and, as predicted, very few people came and went.  The task was tedious, but after only a few minutes, Colt figured out how to set the video playback to scroll through one frame every fifteen seconds. &lt;br /&gt; The frames clicked by for what seemed like hours when Colt finally stopped the video.  “Look here.”  Krissy followed Colt’s pointing finger and caught sight of a woman approaching the front door of the Yachtery.  The angle of the camera allowed them to see her face as she approached.  Now Colt advanced the image one click at a time until he had optimized the view of her face.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Can you zoom in?” she asked.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Just a second.”  Colt clicked on the mouse and chose the area to enhance.  He then zoomed in for a closer look at the woman’s face.  The two detectives glanced down at the photo that was resting on the desk.  The video image was grainy, but the woman’s features were decipherable. “Looks like a match to me,” Colt said.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A few clicks later, Colt had e-mailed the video file to himself and to Krissy, making sure to note the exact time Jailene Arroyo was seen entering the building.  “So now that we have Arroyo connected to Mathis, what’s next?” Colt asked.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Let’s bring Mathis in,” Krissy suggested.  “He’s a suspect in his assistant’s attack, so we can start there and then move on to Samantha.  Then we can see what he has to say about Jailene Arroyo.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Since Mathis was now a suspect in two attacks and posed a flight risk, Krissy made the decision, and her lieutenant agreed, that they would need to bring him in right away.  They could have officers down south make the arrest, but the paperwork would be a lot less complicated if Krissy and Colt made the drive once more and took care of it themselves.  “You up for a drive?” she asked.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Always,”Colt replied.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Gambling on the fact that Mathis would be at his Long Beach office, Colt and Krissy made the decision to stop there first.  As they pulled into the parking lot of the marina, they scanned each row of cars.  “There’s his truck,” Colt said pointing to the silver behemoth in the second row.  “This should be easy enough.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Krissy’s unmarked police car was parked within 20 yards of Mathis’ truck not far from the rows of shops that lined the harbor.  It was somewhere within these shops where they suspected they would find The Yachtery’s satellite office.  The wooden siding on the buildings coupled with the countless seagulls gave the area a nautical feel.  From inside his car, Colt scanned the front doors of the shops he could see.  None of them bore the logo of Mathis’ company.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“There he is.”  Krissy was already reaching over to open the car door.  “Let’s get him.”  She waited and watched as he came closer to his truck.  When he was within ten feet , she pulled out her badge and a pair of hand cuffs and announced, “Steven Mathis.  You’re under arrest for kidnapping and assault.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Mathis turned at the sound of her voice and broke into a sprint in the opposite direction.  Without losing a second, Krissy took off after him with Colt by her side.  They gained on him quickly and, realizing he couldn’t outrun the pair, Mathis slowed to a stop then turned to face them.   &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Krissy methodically slapped the cuffs on his wrists and escorted him back to her car.  It was a long, quiet drive back up to Santa Barbara.  Since Krissy wanted to wait until the setting was in her favor before she began any questioning, she resisted the urge to probe from the front seat.  There would be plenty of time for that at the station.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-4637363347303100815?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/TdJOA5Y9NgA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/4637363347303100815/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/chapter-12-monday.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/4637363347303100815?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/4637363347303100815?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/TdJOA5Y9NgA/chapter-12-monday.html" title="Colt Crawford -Chapter 12 (Monday)" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/chapter-12-monday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEEBRXo8eSp7ImA9WxBbFk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-8470870429432081592</id><published>2010-03-11T06:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-14T14:37:34.471-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-14T14:37:34.471-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Read Books Online" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Christian Fiction" /><title>Colt Crawford - Chapter 11 (Thursday)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/scUaUzzRtp3axhPaxmiMCE5jwpU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/scUaUzzRtp3axhPaxmiMCE5jwpU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/scUaUzzRtp3axhPaxmiMCE5jwpU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/scUaUzzRtp3axhPaxmiMCE5jwpU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;We have a lot of new readers this week, so keep in mind that today is voting day.  The poll on the right will be open until midnight on Saturday.  Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The address that the university had given them for Jailene Arroyo was a dud.  It led Colt and Krissy to a small apartment about fifteen minutes from the campus in a seedy area of town.  By the time they got there, the place was cleaned out and all that remained was the occasional stain on the worn carpet.  As they walked thorough each of the empty rooms, the thought occurred to Colt that maybe it had been empty for a long time.  “There are cobwebs on the stove,” he said.  “No one has lived here for a while.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“So she never even moved in,” Krissy deduced.  “Or she just can’t cook, but it could be that she is part of a much bigger plan.”   &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Now the question is, ‘Does Jailene Arroyo have anything to do with Steven Mathis?’” Colt commented taking one last peek around the empty apartment.  “And if so, how can we connect them?”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Krissy thought for a moment.  “I’ll run her name through the system, but something tells me it is an alias.” &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“What we need is a picture.”  Colt was thinking through his options when he added, “Call your friend at the university.  Have him check with Kevin to see if he has any photos.   I want to know if anyone ever saw her around the apartment.  Then we can show it around the marina and see if anyone there recognizes her.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Krissy made the call and the university police promised to stop at Kevin’s dorm to request a picture.  “While we’re waiting, I can send you a copy of her student ID photo,” the cop at the front desk said.  Krissy rattled off her e-mail address then she and Colt headed back to the station to print the picture.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;After a quick lunch and armed with Jailene’s photo, Colt and Krissy returned to the marina.  During their quick stop at the police station, Krissy had made a call to the service writer turned salesman at the Ford dealer where Creighton worked.  In just under two minutes she had confirmed that Steven Mathis was indeed in the L.A. area for the day.  He had stopped by to pay Creighton a visit on his first day back at work.  “At least we won’t have to worry about Mathis catching us snooping around about this girl,” Krissy said.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Let’s start with the secretary if she’s in today,” Colt replied.  “She’s pretty easy to manipulate.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Easy targets are good.”  The two detectives stepped out of Colt’s BMW and made their way through the half-full parking lot toward The Yachtery.  Peering through the darkened front window, their optimism faded.  “Looks like no one is home today,” Krissy said.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A thought flashed through Colt’s mind.  The office hours were posted on the front window.  The sign indicated that The Yachtery was scheduled to be open Monday through Thursday and on weekends by appointment.  Given the fact that it was Tuesday, Colt grew concerned.  “Did you get the name of the girl who was attacked at the university?” &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Yeah,” Krissy replied thumbing through her notes.  “Jasmine Kennedy.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Have the university guys send her photo to my e-mail address.  I think I found part one of our connection.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Ten minutes later, Colt’s phone buzzed to life and began singing its familiar tone.  “That’s what I thought.”  He looked at the photo on the iPhone and then compared it to the photo of a smiling woman snuggling up to a man that was positioned on the secretary’s desk in Mathis’ office.  “His own assistant. Now someone is sending Mathis a message.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Krissy glanced at the two photos.  “Who is close to Mathis?  So far we haven’t found anyone who knows him on a personal level.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“I’m guessing she is,” Colt said waving the picture of Jailene Arroyo in front of Krissy.  “Let’s go back to the art gallery.  Maybe they will recognize her.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Colt stepped away from the front window of the Yachtery where he had been standing and made his way next door.  The same young proprietor was on duty and Colt went straight for him, Krissy a step behind.  Pulling out the photo, he began to ask if Jailene had been seen in the area.  The trendy young man shook his head.  “I already told you, the guy keeps to himself.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Ready to move on, Colt stopped short of the front door.  He looked up and noticed a surveillance camera staring out the front window.  “Can I look over your security tapes?” Colt asked.  “Specifically this camera?”  The camera in question had a perfect view out the window of the gallery and had to have covered the front of The Yachtery office as well.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Suit yourself.”  The proprietor escorted Colt and Krissy to a back room where a fairly new iMac was sitting on an uncluttered desk.  He pulled up the video footage from the front camera and left them to look it over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--- Results ---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Who is sending Mathis the message?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A) No one. He attacked Jasmine Kennedy to throw the cops off of his trail. - 45%&lt;br /&gt;B) Jailene Arroyo, because of a personal conflict she had with Mathis - 55%&lt;br /&gt;C) Creighton, in an effort to buy more time (Is he really that stupid?) - 0%&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-8470870429432081592?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/gaL1v2fFQuE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/8470870429432081592/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/colt-crawford-chapter-11-thursday.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/8470870429432081592?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/8470870429432081592?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/gaL1v2fFQuE/colt-crawford-chapter-11-thursday.html" title="Colt Crawford - Chapter 11 (Thursday)" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/colt-crawford-chapter-11-thursday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0EBRHs9eip7ImA9WxBbEks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-8678656828025860965</id><published>2010-03-10T07:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T16:00:55.562-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-10T16:00:55.562-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Christian Books Online" /><title>Colt Crawford - Chapter 11 (Wednesday)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/o1dTT_nRK6NEHapE4W-2XNHXs3Y/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/o1dTT_nRK6NEHapE4W-2XNHXs3Y/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/o1dTT_nRK6NEHapE4W-2XNHXs3Y/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/o1dTT_nRK6NEHapE4W-2XNHXs3Y/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;“So we’re watching the game at your boss’s house?” Colt said.  “That wasn’t exactly the way I had imagined your conversation would go.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“But I am on to something.  He didn’t deny a thing.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Krissy’s phone was lying on her desk when it started to ring.  “Malone,” she said as she raised it to her ear.  She listened making an occasional grunt and nod then promised to stop by within the hour.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“What was that?” Colt asked, eager to chase down a new lead.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“That was my friend over at the University Police.  They found a woman on the side of the road who looked like she had been thrown from a moving car.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Sounds familiar,” Colt said, disgust evident on his face.  “Have they identified any suspects?”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Yeah, our friend, Kevin.  That’s why he thought I might be interested.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Let’s go talk to Kevin.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The small conference room at the University Police station was a familiar sight, especially with Kevin once again sitting at the table.  “Surveillance video shows your car at the scene,” Krissy said giving the campus bookie a hard stare.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“I may arrange bets for people, but I have never hurt anyone,” Kevin insisted.   “Well let’s start with the obvious.  Where were you between eleven and midnight last night?”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“I was at a study group for an accounting mid-term.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Who can confirm that?”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Kevin rattled off a list of four names.  Colt wrote them down, then slipped out to have the university cops check them out while Krissy continued the interview.  Assuming the alibis checked out, Krissy decided to pursue a new line of questioning.  “Who has keys to your car?”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“No one but me,” Kevin said, relief evident on his face.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“There was no indication it had been stolen and you have your keys in your pocket.”  Krissy gestured down at Kevin’s right leg where an irregular bulge was evident in his front pocket.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Kevin paused before responding as if he was weighing his next words.  He took a deep breath then let it out.  “I was seeing someone a few months back.  She never gave me my spare key back.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Name,” Krissy demanded.  Colt slipped back into the room impressed with her no nonsense demeanor.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Jailene.”  He took another deep breath as if he still wanted to protect her.  “Jailene Arroyo.”  Kevin looked down, knowing he had just passed the buck to someone else and clearly regretted having done so.  “Look, it was a stupid thing.  She wasn’t married, but she was sort of with someone else at the time.  I don’t know the guy, and I don’t really want to if you get my drift.  She went back to him and, as far as I know, he never knew about us.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Krissy was about to end the interview when Colt chimed in.  “You said she wasn’t married.  Does she go to school here or did you meet her somewhere else?”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“She was only taking one class last semester.  I met her at a party at a friend’s house.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Looks like this Jailene Arroyo is going to be fun to track down,” Colt said once they were back in the car.  “One class, then she disappears.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“We’ll find out once we check out her forwarding address,” Krissy said.  “Let’s go ring a doorbell.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-8678656828025860965?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/usdiFbr2zXE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/8678656828025860965/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/colt-crawford-chapter-11-wednesday.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/8678656828025860965?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/8678656828025860965?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/usdiFbr2zXE/colt-crawford-chapter-11-wednesday.html" title="Colt Crawford - Chapter 11 (Wednesday)" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/colt-crawford-chapter-11-wednesday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUMHRX88eip7ImA9WxBbE0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-1629704616278392650</id><published>2010-03-09T06:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T19:10:34.172-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-11T19:10:34.172-08:00</app:edited><title>Colt Crawford - Chapter 11 (Tuesday)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5-F8F-1LWC8Fbsklf2-pRjOjZos/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5-F8F-1LWC8Fbsklf2-pRjOjZos/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5-F8F-1LWC8Fbsklf2-pRjOjZos/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5-F8F-1LWC8Fbsklf2-pRjOjZos/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;“I was thinking about the chief last night,” Krissy said early Tuesday morning.  She was sitting next to Colt in the front seat of his car enjoying the free ride to work.  As promised, he had arrived at her front door at 7:45 and would have her at the police station right on time.  “His son had mentioned that he seemed to have something to hide and that it started about two years ago.  I remembered that he took a trip on the boat right after he got it and was gone for about a month.  Let’s swing by the marina  again and talk to the Harbor Master.  They keep records of when the boats leave for extended periods of time.  I am curious if that boat really ever left.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“That is an interesting idea.  What are you thinking?” Colt chimed in.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“When he got back from that trip, he was not the same man.  It was as if the big cop in him had died.  Mentally he was still sharp, but he’s not as strong as he used to be.  I didn’t think much of it at the time, but now it might make sense.  If you took a month-long trip in a new boat, wouldn’t you come back full of adventure and stories?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“I would imagine.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“He didn’t come back refreshed.  He was tired.”  She paused, her mind seeming to fade back in time. “And maybe even a little frail.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Maybe he just gets seasick.” &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Or maybe he was sick and took some time off to get better.”  Krissy was on a roll now.  Her theory was taking shape and it protected the integrity of a good cop.  “Maybe that’s what he was hiding.  Cops by nature are proud people and Chief Brown can be the proudest of them all.”    &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Would you say he is rebounding?  I mean is he back to his old form or he is still weaker?”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“He’s not nearly as bad as he was, but still not his old self either.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Other than verifying that the boat never left the harbor, how do we prove this theory of yours?”  Colt asked.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Let’s do it the old fashioned way.  Let’s just ask him.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“But what if he is dirty?  What if he lies to cover himself?”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“It’s all in the way you ask.”  Krissy smiled.  “If I don’t accuse him of anything illegal, he won’t have anything to cover up.”  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chief Brown’s office was located in the back of the building.  It was not lavish, but  it was tastefully decorated with a nautical theme.  Krissy glanced around the walls looking at the various awards and commendations that were displayed on one side.  Pictures of the chief with his wife were on another wall as well as plenty of shots of the boat.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;She quickly focused her attention back on her boss and got right to the point, avoiding any opportunity to beat around the bush.  “Chief,” she began. “I’m concerned about your health.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Chief Brown looked up from his desk.  “I’ve never felt better.  Why the concern?”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Krissy was about to go out on a limb, but she knew she’d never get the chief to open up if she didn’t.  “Ever since that health scare a few years back, you don’t seem the same.”  She waited for a reaction, not sure what to expect.  If she was right, he might start talking about it.  If she was wrong, he’d probably think she was a lousy detective who jumped to conclusions.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“I assure you I am as healthy now than ever.”  He didn’t deny having a health problem so Krissy decided to dig deeper and take another risk.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Cancer free?” She had no idea if he had been fighting cancer, but it seemed like a logical guess.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The chief stopped and gave her a hard stare.  He didn’t speak at first.  It seemed as if he was trying to figure out the right words to say to deny everything.  “You’re a good detective.  I knew that when I recommended you for the job.  There’s a football game on TV tonight.  College championship.  Why don’t you and that new boyfriend of yours come over and watch it?  We can talk then.”  Krissy blushed at the word “boyfriend.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Don’t deny it.  I’m a good cop, too.”  The chief just smiled as Krissy rose to her feet and promised to show up in time for the game.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-1629704616278392650?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/JHyAGsUXJlM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/1629704616278392650/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/colt-crawford-chapter-11-tuesday.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/1629704616278392650?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/1629704616278392650?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/JHyAGsUXJlM/colt-crawford-chapter-11-tuesday.html" title="Colt Crawford - Chapter 11 (Tuesday)" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/colt-crawford-chapter-11-tuesday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0AGQnY_fip7ImA9WxBbEEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-6048007088264647042</id><published>2010-03-08T06:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T06:48:43.846-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-08T06:48:43.846-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Romance" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Online Fiction" /><title>Colt Crawford - Chapter 11 (Monday)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IV_8dmV4zwOp_7wtunhOZqUuR08/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IV_8dmV4zwOp_7wtunhOZqUuR08/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IV_8dmV4zwOp_7wtunhOZqUuR08/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IV_8dmV4zwOp_7wtunhOZqUuR08/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;The question didn’t catch Krissy off guard at all.  She had expected it, mostly because her parents bring up the subject so often.  She looked down at her plate and chased a few pieces of pineapple with her fork.  “I’ve just never found the right guy,” she said.  “There have been a few who were sure I was the right girl, but they never really took the time to get to know me.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Daring to take things to the next level Colt looked back at Krissy, his eyes locking in on hers.  “What is it you would want a guy to know that they have never listened to in the past?”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“You’re not wasting much time, Colt Crawford.”  A smile crept across Krissy’s face.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“My clock’s ticking, too.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“In that case, I’d better hurry up and answer your question.  All the guys I date like the fact that I am a cop.  That’s why they date me.  They want a secure, confident, driven woman.”  She paused.  “I can be those things, but it’s not what I want.  Like I told you before, I would love to leave law enforcement behind, get married and have a couple of kids.  It always annoys me to see parents drop their kids off at day care and expect someone else to raise them.  I think that if you have kids, it is your responsibility to raise them yourself.  The best baby sitter in the world could never love a child the way a mother can.”  She looked down at her plate, then back up at Colt.  “I’ve just spilled my guts.  What about you?  You’re still single”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“I’ve never taken the time for a relationship. Been too busy building my business, chasing my career.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Will that ever change?”  Krissy asked with a hint of hope in her voice.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“This runaway trip of mine is the first step.  And it hasn’t taken long to figure a few things out.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Colt and Krissy sat on the patio at Sambos, staring out at the stars twinkling above the vast Pacific Ocean.  “How long are you planning to stay here in Santa Barbara?”  she asked.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“I have no plans.  I didn’t exactly think things through when I left L.A.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A waiter came by with their check, but it didn’t make any difference.  Colt and Krissy were absorbed in their conversation and neither had any intention of leaving. “Do you ever see yourself settling down with a stay-at-home wife who raises her own kids?”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“To be honest, until recently, I never really gave it any thought.  But it would be nice to have a hot dinner on the table every once in a while.  And someone to share it with.  It gets old eating alone.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“We’re not alone tonight,” Krissy said, her eyes gleaming in the moonlight.   &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;It was close to 9:00 when they finally wrapped up their conversation and walked hand in hand back to Colt’s car.  “I’ll drop you off at home,” Colt offered.  “I can pick you up in the morning and take you back to the police station.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“I’ll need to be there by 8:00.”  Krissy couldn’t recall feeling this content with any other guy she had dated.  There was something different about Colt and she liked it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-6048007088264647042?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/kduh9DPXRKI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/6048007088264647042/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/colt-crawford-chapter-11-monday.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/6048007088264647042?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/6048007088264647042?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/kduh9DPXRKI/colt-crawford-chapter-11-monday.html" title="Colt Crawford - Chapter 11 (Monday)" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/colt-crawford-chapter-11-monday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMMQXw8eyp7ImA9WxBbEEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-6916576819625016611</id><published>2010-03-05T06:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T17:18:00.273-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-08T17:18:00.273-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Online Christian Fiction" /><title>Colt Crawford - Chapter 10 (Thursday)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xhryombioYyn1WP541gxCqCogAc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xhryombioYyn1WP541gxCqCogAc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xhryombioYyn1WP541gxCqCogAc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xhryombioYyn1WP541gxCqCogAc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;“I can’t exactly tell anyone that I am nosing around the chief’s personal business,” Krissy said.  The two detectives were sitting on the outdoor patio at Sambos restaurant.  The view of the ocean was magnificent.  As the sun was going down, the outline of the Channel Islands interrupted the distant horizon.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“So what have you found out?” Colt asked eager to solve this case.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“The chief bought the boat from Mathis about two years ago.  I knew that he was somewhat estranged from his son, so I decided to work that angle.  They had some sort of falling out just after he bought the boat.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Is the son a cop too?”  Colt inquired.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“He was a local cop.  That’s how I know him, but he moved out of state after their blow up.  He’s now up in the Seattle area living on a boat in the harbor.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“So what did you find out.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Jeff, that’s the chief’s son, said that his dad got really stressed out after he bought the boat.  He said he paid cash for it. He’d been saving for years, but once he got it, something changed.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Buyer’s remorse?”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“I asked about that, but he said that the chief loves the boat and when he is on it, he is relaxed and comfortable.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“So what did they fight over?”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Jeff said that their falling out happened when Jeff accused the chief of being secretive.  He felt like there was something that the chief was holding back and not being honest about.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Did he ever find out what it was?”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Not a clue.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Colt looked again across the vast expanse of sea then across the patio to a table where a young family was seated.  He twirled a pile of pasta with his fork as he contemplated the situation. “You see those kids over there,” he said gesturing with his nose so as to not be too obvious.  Samantha nodded.  “Not a care in the world.  They are just happy to be eating dinner.  Must be nice.”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“They look like good kids.  Their parents must be doing something right.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Colt flagged down the waiter he came over and Colt spoke quietly.  “I want to buy ice cream for those kids over there.  Don’t tell them it was me, just put it on my bill.  Anything they want.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“That is so sweet,” Krissy said as a genuine smile spread across her face.  “I can’t wait until I have kids.”  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“You’re still young enough,” Colt said with a sarcastic grin.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Thanks,” Krissy said feigning a left hook.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“There is something I wanted to ask you.”  Colt paused as Krissy nodded.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“What might that be?”&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Have you ever been married?  I mean, you seem like a pretty good catch and it surprises me that you are available.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Results---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;How should Krissy respond to Colt’s question?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;She’s never been married. - 100%&lt;br /&gt;She was married for a short time at a young age but divorced. - 0%&lt;br /&gt;She was married but her husband died of cancer. - 0%&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-6916576819625016611?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/jTAH_5n3drY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/6916576819625016611/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/colt-crawford-chapter-9-thursday.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/6916576819625016611?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/6916576819625016611?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/jTAH_5n3drY/colt-crawford-chapter-9-thursday.html" title="Colt Crawford - Chapter 10 (Thursday)" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/colt-crawford-chapter-9-thursday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0MERng6fyp7ImA9WxBUF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2283619607887260628.post-4501748605690136489</id><published>2010-03-04T19:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T19:23:27.617-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-04T19:23:27.617-08:00</app:edited><title>The Novel Blooper</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qgugOI4ugcxvkE_kM3ZdNqkSEBA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qgugOI4ugcxvkE_kM3ZdNqkSEBA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qgugOI4ugcxvkE_kM3ZdNqkSEBA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qgugOI4ugcxvkE_kM3ZdNqkSEBA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;As I was rereading the story up to this point, I realized there was a mistake in the plot.  Last Thursday in chapter 9, Krissy and Colt were discussing the fact that Mathis had no police record.  I had to update that conversation because earlier in the story, it had been revealed that Mathis knew Samantha and was upset with her.  You will recall that she was his tax attorney and she got his fines with the IRS reduced, but he still had to do some jail time for tax evasion.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also missed today's post due to illness in the family.  The Novel Wifer was sick today, so I spent my day as Mr. Mom.  No time for writing much.  Hopefully I will get the next installment up tomorrow morning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2283619607887260628-4501748605690136489?l=thenovelblogger.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~4/Xpe-8jOs0yo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/feeds/4501748605690136489/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/novel-blooper.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/4501748605690136489?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2283619607887260628/posts/default/4501748605690136489?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/dVOK/~3/Xpe-8jOs0yo/novel-blooper.html" title="The Novel Blooper" /><author><name>The Novel Blogger</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nWlbmrfEEv4/S0-x6OkwnuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Uqp9h3sDAV4/S220/Photo+405.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://thenovelblogger.blogspot.com/2010/03/novel-blooper.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

