FINAL CHECKPOINT
by
Will Zeilinger
Summary
Photographer Ben DeCastro drives in
sports car rallies on weekends. He
discovers an abandoned rally car in the California desert with a headless
corpse in the trunk. As a volunteer firefighter, he joins in the search for the
missing drivers. His life veers off
course when their fingerprints are found on his garage door. The FBI looks at Ben as a suspect. This hurts
his professional reputation, and cramps his dating efforts with the women in
his building. An assortment of friends
and neighbors try to help him with his circumstances, but cause more problems
in the process. How does he get out of
this mess?
Excerpt
“You are such a party
pooper Ben DeCastro.” slurred out of her mouth as I sat her down in the
passenger seat and buckled her belt. I was hoping the ride back with the top
down would provide enough fresh cool air to clear her head. But as we headed
down the hill toward the long stretch of road at Bolsa Chica State Beach she
started singing the theme from “Green Acres” - an old TV show on the retro
channel and waving her arms above her head in the slipstream.
Suddenly she leaned over
and wrapped her arms around my neck, “I love you Ben.” followed by three more choruses of the theme song. Then
she started to cry.
“Are you okay?” I asked
as she wept on my shoulder.
“No.” she mumbled, “You
didn’t say you love me too.” and started to cry on my shoulder again. I thought
maybe I should drive a little further up PCH. Maybe she needed more air and
because I couldn’t imagine myself getting her up to her apartment in this
condition. I reached over to smooth her skirt back down because the wind had
bunched it up on her thighs.
“Ben, Ben,” she shook her
finger at me while at the same time parting her legs slightly. “Just what do
you thing we are doing?” slid out of her now smiling mouth.
“I’m just trying to put
your clothes back in place. What are you doing?”
“Who me?” she pointed at
her chest, “I was just helping you.”
“Just sit still,
Jessica.” I got her skirt back where it should have been so anyone in a vehicle
taller than mine wouldn’t get a free show. “I think you have too many Mojitos
in you.”
“You think so? I’ll fix
that.” With that statement, she turned away from me and threw up over her side
of the car. “Sorry Ben... but I don’t feel very well,” and did it again.
I know it sounds selfish
but that put the lid on anything further with Jessica tonight and I could just
imagine what the outside of my car looked like. I turned around when I got near
the roundabout in Santa Serena and headed back to Seagull Beach. Jessica put
her head back on the seat and closed her eyes for the rest of the ride back
home.
She was fast asleep as I
pulled up to the garage. Her side of my car looked and smelled like I’d
imagined so I took her keys out of her purse. Luckily she was light for someone
around five-foot six. I picked her up and carried her to the elevator. Her
shoes were missing and probably still in my car. This woman sleeps like a log
but while waiting for the elevator I looked at her face. It was very pretty -
even with the little bit of drool on her cheek. The elevator chimed and the
doors slid open. There was Molly. Her eyes grew wide as her mouth dropped open.
“Hi Molly.” I tried to
act like everything was normal.
“Hello Ben?” She backed
around us and stood by the open door staring while I turned sideways and
slipped into the elevator with Jessica, who’d stopped singing, in my arms.
“She’s asleep - not
feeling very well.”
Molly fanned her hand in
front of her scrunched-up face, “Yeah, I can tell. Whew!”
As the doors closed, I
said, “Well, I’ll see you around... G’night.” Jessica stirred in my arms a
little and snuggled her face into my shoulder. I managed not to hit her head on
the wall when I carried her down the hall to her door. Juggling her keys I
opened her apartment door and took her inside.
I hadn’t been inside her
apartment before since she talked to me at the door when we met. It was very
neat and clean. Her bedroom door was open so I took her in and laid her on the
bed. Her eyes were still closed when her arms came up around my neck and she
moaned, “Oh Ben, don’t go.” I didn’t say a word as I carefully peeled her arms
from my neck and quietly slipped out of her apartment, locking the door behind
me. As I turned around Molly was standing right behind me in the hallway.
“Did you follow me up
here?”
BIO
He has been writing for over twelve years. During that time, he took novel writing classes and joined writer’s groups, but what has helped the most are published authors who mentor, encourage, critique, and listen to him while he continue to learn the craft.
He has been writing for over twelve years. During that time, he took novel writing classes and joined writer’s groups, but what has helped the most are published authors who mentor, encourage, critique, and listen to him while he continue to learn the craft.
Most recently Will and wife, Janet
Elizabeth Lynn (also an accomplished author), co-wrote Slivers of Glass, a noir
murder mystery set in 1955. At the time
of this writing, Will has published three other novels (Ebooks.) The Naked Groom, Something’s Cooking at Dove
Acres, and The Final Checkpoint (also
in print).
As a youth Will lived overseas with
his family. As an adult he has traveled the world with Janet. He says that
finding time to write while life happens is a challenge.
Contact
info:
Twitter:
@Will_Zeilinger
Facebook: www.facebook.com/wzeilinger
blog:
http://www.booksbywilzeilinger.blogspot.com
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