Deadly Geezer by T. Jackson King

Author:T. Jackson King [King, T. Jackson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B07XGQQLNS
Publisher: T. Jackson King
Published: 2019-09-06T04:00:00+00:00

♦ ♦ ♦

Pancho was glad to see me. My Arizona Alligator Lizard reared up in his glass terrarium, his black eyes fixed on me. Clearly he was hoping for a late night snack. I let go the energy balloon holding Posteen, ordered the field to float before my couch, then reached below Pancho’s habitat and grabbed the bottle with live critters in it. Reaching in I pulled out a cricket. Smaller than a grasshopper it would do for my pet buddy. Dangling it over the open top of the terrarium I waited for Pancho to jump up for it. He sprang up five inches and latched onto the cricket, falling down onto the flat black stone that was part of his desert environment. Munching away, his mind projected double happiness. He was happy to see me. And he was happy to be eating a tasty treat. I smiled, then turned away and sat in my red recliner. With a thought I turned on the end table light. Then the kitchen light. I left off the flat screen TV that adorned the opposite wall. I needed to think.

“Jack! Jack Hansen?”

The yell came from outside. I recognized the voice. As my psychic persona scan found the speaker I noticed the auras of everyone within a few blocks of my Santa Fe home. The elderly couple across the street were asleep. The young couple next door were both up and changing the baby’s diaper. And grousing to each other. Smiling at my own memory of doing the same with Sally, I gave thanks there were no gangbangers hanging around hoping for a bribe from me. The remaining gangs in town would surely show up at the Railyard water tower, next time I was there. Tomorrow was Friday. My usual day for catching a movie at the yard. Well, that could wait. I had an experiment to run with Prince Posteen. And then a discussion with Ansgar, depending on what I learned. Meanwhile, there was no way I was letting any reporter inside my home, there to see the balloon filled with evil blackness. Cursing my luck I got up, opened my front door and stepped out onto the top of the stairwell.

“Hello, Rachel Knapp. Isn’t it a bit late for you to be out all alone?”

The honey blonde woman, who was in her mid-thirties, had a determined mind sense about her. She was wearing blue bib overalls. There was no camera person near her. Though her sedan was parked across the street, the KRQE-TV logo on it quite clear in the street light illumination. She looked up at me from the locked lower gate.

“Mr. Hansen, may I visit with you? About your rescue of Clarice Watkins earlier today?”

I really should say no. One way or another, I was going to be in the media again. At least the print reporters were not down there. Nor were there news vans from the other Albuquerque stations. Giving the woman credit for journalistic persistence, I nodded.

“Yes, you may come up.

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