The borderlands. Sean Mendoza was tired. Bleary eyed. Not enough coffee. Bored. Scanning endless rows of vehicles looking for any sign of something being amiss. The job was 99 percent boring 1 percent exciting. He had to keep the cars and trucks flowing across the border while simultaneously stopping them and recovering contraband. Mostly regulars, workers , school kids, truckers he waived them all through. When suddenly he saw it.. could.not.believe.his.eyes. On the dashboard of the vehicle a miniature statue of Jesus Malverde—-the patron saint of drug trafficking. If this isn’t reasonable suspicion nothing is. He waived and shouted to the car “Secondary. Secondary.” ….
I’m going to be game on this little series…I’m waiting for my muse to come…You have the start of an intriguing story with the setting being a place of evil spirits, a tough jock and a likely tough resident Native American and an cold case, probably a murder…let’s see how this rolls…will Sam and Kosie, get cosy?
I am standing on a beach in Massapequa looking out over the Great South Bay. Sleet hits my face - remnants of the Northeaster that gribbed the Island over the past three days. At my feet, a steamer trunk circa the fifties or sixties. I am sure the teenagers who located and opened it had the surprise of their lives. Bones, chains, and cement stared back, also vomit from the finders: dam, first day, first case as a Nassau County homicide detective. Thought I had left NYC behind - no such luck.
Massapequa is known for the All-American Diner, I-talian restaurants, the Baldwin brothers. Jerry Seinfield, and Neil Diamond, but it has a more checkered history - the Mafia, especially Carlo Gambino and John Gotti. Could this trunk be linked to them? Possibly. The remnants displayed all the signs of a mob hit and disposal - chains, cement, and a bullet hole in the back of the skull.
“Walker, the ME wants to talk to talk to you.” I turn toward the direction of my partner”s thick Long Island- accented voice. Shiabon Murphy, only promoted three weeks ago from Port Washington larceny. She had beat cop in her blood, but no experience with homicide. Neither one of us knows the players or this homicide unit”s inner workings. And we landed a cold case from hell. I feel the first twitch of a migraine.
The borderlands. Sean Mendoza was tired. Bleary eyed. Not enough coffee. Bored. Scanning endless rows of vehicles looking for any sign of something being amiss. The job was 99 percent boring 1 percent exciting. He had to keep the cars and trucks flowing across the border while simultaneously stopping them and recovering contraband. Mostly regulars, workers , school kids, truckers he waived them all through. When suddenly he saw it.. could.not.believe.his.eyes. On the dashboard of the vehicle a miniature statue of Jesus Malverde—-the patron saint of drug trafficking. If this isn’t reasonable suspicion nothing is. He waived and shouted to the car “Secondary. Secondary.” ….
Very intriguing. Keep going!
Thanks!
Great opening very realistic and draws you to want more.
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That is a grand opening, Nicole. I can totally see it being played out. Great writing ✍️
Thanks
I’m going to be game on this little series…I’m waiting for my muse to come…You have the start of an intriguing story with the setting being a place of evil spirits, a tough jock and a likely tough resident Native American and an cold case, probably a murder…let’s see how this rolls…will Sam and Kosie, get cosy?
I am standing on a beach in Massapequa looking out over the Great South Bay. Sleet hits my face - remnants of the Northeaster that gribbed the Island over the past three days. At my feet, a steamer trunk circa the fifties or sixties. I am sure the teenagers who located and opened it had the surprise of their lives. Bones, chains, and cement stared back, also vomit from the finders: dam, first day, first case as a Nassau County homicide detective. Thought I had left NYC behind - no such luck.
Massapequa is known for the All-American Diner, I-talian restaurants, the Baldwin brothers. Jerry Seinfield, and Neil Diamond, but it has a more checkered history - the Mafia, especially Carlo Gambino and John Gotti. Could this trunk be linked to them? Possibly. The remnants displayed all the signs of a mob hit and disposal - chains, cement, and a bullet hole in the back of the skull.
“Walker, the ME wants to talk to talk to you.” I turn toward the direction of my partner”s thick Long Island- accented voice. Shiabon Murphy, only promoted three weeks ago from Port Washington larceny. She had beat cop in her blood, but no experience with homicide. Neither one of us knows the players or this homicide unit”s inner workings. And we landed a cold case from hell. I feel the first twitch of a migraine.
Dame, that's like an opening of the True Detective TV series. Nice.