The Fires of Rubicon by Robert Allen Stowe

Author:Robert Allen Stowe [Stowe, Robert Allen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Rose Writing
Published: 2023-10-25T16:00:00+00:00

Saturday, November 6

I hope I can go to sleep. My internal clock is really off kilter. Nearly fell asleep on the catwalk between pours a week or so ago. Wouldn’t that have been something? Me taking a header into the lava soup. Hah! They’d never find me then. Best way to go, I guess. Nothing left for anyone to worry about. I wonder if I’d feel anything. A little heat, then…. Who knows. The only ones who can say for sure are those who’ve already fallen in. But they’re not talking very much, are they. Hah!

I wonder how many have taken the dive. There are stories about one or two in the past—the ones people remember. But there must have been some before—before anyone still working there can remember. The Mill is almost a hundred years old, or something like that, I suppose. Had to be some Lava Divers in the past. Some probably did it on purpose. Lava Divers…that’s what Anton called them. But I don’t think he knew how many there were either.

Should I keep sleeping during the day, staying awake all night? Nothing on TV in the wee hours. Nothing to do if I can’t go back to work. But if I change my sleep pattern I’ll really be screwed up when they call and say I can go back to work. I’ll get a crossword puzzle book maybe. That will keep me busy during the night. Wish I could go to sleep. Maybe something unusual will happen tonight. Maybe then I can enjoy a deep sleep tomorrow morning.

. . .

The weekend, but not a day of rest for a group leader like Lt. Alex Wesner. He was at his desk by 7:00 a.m., deep into an analysis of what facts he knew, finishing the report for the Highway Patrol and the State Liquor Board to approve a hands-on investigation of the Steal Inn. To get the required search warrant, he would need to make it sound both plausible and heinous--not easy since he had no real facts. Likewise, a report on the physical property and whether there were likely danger points would help the State Highway Patrol develop an attack strategy. He had a gnawing feeling that a search of the Steal Inn would not be a gentlemanly affair, but would be more like a wrestling take-down.

The case itself was a bit of a mess. He felt like he was playing chess with the various characters involved in this melodrama. He had to figure out who took down his white knight, Thorpe, and why. Further, he was trying to see if one game of chess fit on top of another, searching for an elusive--possibly incinerated--missing person. A person or a pawn? He wondered whether two separate games were being played, or if this was a single, three-dimensional match against a multitude of unknown opponents. On top of all of that, there could be a mole among his group of detectives, or perhaps nearby the group. Another

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