Passing Ships Are Not Always Quiet Exerpt

CHAPTER 1

BLISS TURNED UPSIDE DOWN

As he rode his new Christmas bike down the snaking dirt road along the cliff

side, dust flew from his tires like leaves in the wind. The shiny silver frame looked

like a streak of lightening against the backdrop of the turquoise seaside. His short

brown hair ruffled off his head like a preening parakeet. John was in his own

heaven, riding as fast as his legs would peddle, on this gorgeous sunny Wednesday

morning. He was thinking how great it was to be outside on his own without his

little brother, Andy, tagging along.

John realized this was the first time he had had

to himself since they moved to Seacliff three weeks ago. He loved his little

brother, but playing with a five year old was not what a twelve year old boy really

wanted to do. And, Andy was a chatty, inquisitive five year old, so it was always

one question after another for John to try and answer. It was nice not to have to

listen to anything, but the wind in his ears and the waves on the beach. John wasn't

going to waste a minute of it and rode even faster than before. As he sped along he

thought to himself, what a perfect day. Little did he know how upside down things

would soon turn.

***

Sheila’s yellow hair glistened in the sun as she hung the sheets on the line to

dry. She remembered how her grandmother always said they smelled better with

the scent of sunshine on them, and that made for better dreams. Sheila brushed a

strand of blonde hair from her face, which the breeze continued to use to tickle her

nose, and bent to pick up another sheet. Her tiny hands could barely squeeze the

clothespins hard enough to open them around the folded corner of sheet and the

rope that made up the make shift clothesline. As she hung the last corner of the last

sheet, she stood back and gazed at the waves as they splashed against the shore.

The sea air was thick in the breeze leaving a coating of salt on her face. The morning overcast had burned away and the sun was beginning to burn hot on her bare shoulders. Sheila thought that it was particularly warm for a December morning, but didn’t mind. She loved the fresh smell of the ocean and the feel of the sun’s warmth on her face. She spent a lot of time indoors helping with the guests of her grandmother’s tiny bed and breakfast. So, she tended to move more

slowly when she was hanging laundry. Little did she know that today’s lollygagging, as grandma called it, would change her life forever.

***

The old Oldsmobile's tires skid around the bends as it sped away down the

narrow, windy dirt road. Faster and faster it went without a concern for what might

happen. Gordon was far too used to driving like this after having too many beers

and no sleep. Nothing could happen with him behind the wheel. He was invincible. He could make the fifteen mile drive from Benny’s bar to the front door of his father’s guest house in under fifteen minutes, with his eyes closed. This day was a bit hairier than others with all the extra holiday celebrating last night. But, nothing he couldn’t handle.

He had been up for twenty-four hours straight partying and playing poker, and been drinking heavily for the last twelve of them. One strong cup of Benny’s coffee and he was fine to drive. It was only fifteen miles. That is how Gordon thought. That is why he didn’t even notice when he rounded the bend, near the big oak tree, at forty miles an hour, while adjusting the

radio and sent John and his bike flying over the edge.

The radio was so loud he didn't hear John's shouting at him as his bike crashed over the edge and onto the small ledge beneath. If John had went over a few feet farther down the road, he

would have been sent flying down the cliff side onto the rocks below. But, Gordon had no clue of any of this. His focus was on how fast he could get home and by how much he could beat his record.

***

Even though it was three days past Christmas, the mail load was still heavy with all the letters, cards and packages that were mailed late. This made for a slow delivery day. Billy, the mailman had never been very fast, but today was making him take his time even more. It was such an unusually sunny and warm day for that time of year and he just wanted to enjoy it before the cooler, wetter weather returned. Maybe that is why he didn't see Gordon's car coming around the bend headed straight for his stopped mail truck. If he had seen it, maybe he would have

been able to move in time.

For Gordon there was no time to miss hitting the mail truck. Gordon was going too fast on a blind curve. And, there was no way he could see Billy standing on the other side of the truck putting letters in the Benson's mailbox.

Gordon slammed on the breaks, causing his tires to screech as the breaks locked and his back end fish-tailed around the curve. There was no stopping now and he was too close to the mail truck for anyone on the other side to get out of the way. Gordon's car slid sideways nailing the mail truck and sending it flying sideways a good four feet, right on top of Billy. The mail truck caught Billy from behind and sent him slamming to the ground as its axle broke and the under carriage came down on Billy's back.

Gordon couldn't know that Billy was pinned, because he never stopped. He regained control of his old Oldsmobile and sped off down the road patting himself on the back for having been able to pull out of that tail spin. His ego was too large for him to think that someone else might have been hurt. He knew his father would fix things with the authorities over the mail truck.

As Gordon thought of how best to describe what had happened to his father for the most sympathy, his thoughts were interrupted by a little girl's scream and he looked up the hill to see Sheila standing there witness to what had just happened. That is when he looked back and saw Billy laying under the truck. For the first time panic struck in Gordon and he raced even faster down the road to his father's protection.

***

Sheila ran in the house to tell her grandmother what she saw, but as usual her grandmother was way too busy to hear what she had to say. The more she tried to get her grandmother's attention the more irritated her grandmother got. Sheila had come to live with her grandmother five years ago, at the age of seven after her parents were killed in the San Francisco earth quake. She loved it at the B and B, and her grandmother was a very sweet and insightful woman who loved her granddaughter very much, but at eighty-eight years old both patience and energy had long since left her.

It was an extremely busy day with all the holiday guests. That made it a bad day to try and get grandmother's attention. So, Sheila ran to the phone and called the police to tell them what had happened. Hopefully the one police car that patrolled the hundred and fifty mile radius would be close by. Otherwise it could take hours for it to arrive. One of the draw backs to living in a small rural area was that help was not always right around the corner. Everyone thinks of California as densely populated. What they don't realize is that the majority of that population is in Southern California around LA, or in the San Francisco Bay area. There is a lot of state in between.

Sheila remembered these facts as she dialed and hoped for a quick response. As it turned out, luck was not on her side that day. The patrol car was on a call on the other side of the county. Who knew when it would be there?

***

The big Oldsmobile skid to a stop in front of the Stockholm mansion. As Gordon climbed out of the car, he could hear the family maid calling to his father, "Mr. Stockholm! Come quick. Young Mr. Stockholm's car is a mess!"

As Mr. Stockholm reached the front porch, he saw that his son's passenger side rear bumper was completely destroyed and was already mentally preparing to start making the necessary calls to the right people of power to cover up the newest of Gordon's many incidents, when Gordon jumped out of the car in a complete panic and told his father about Billy.

Mr. Stockholm's plan of action quickly changed and he called to his assistant Randy Myers and told him, "Take Sloppy Poppy and dispose of any evidence that Gordon was involved. Make sure it looks like an unfortunate accident." Randy Myers was only an assistant by name for appearances. In reality he was Frank Stockholm's right hand man. He was known as Handy Randy, because he was always there and at the ready to take care of whatever business that might need to be handled without question, no matter how messy or nasty it might be. Randy nodded and walked away without a word.

To find out what happens to John, Shiela, and Gordon get your paperback

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Works By Elizabeth Donley-Leer