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Parts of the whole, p.1
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       Parts of the Whole, p.1

           John G. Walker
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Parts of the Whole
As always, this goes out to two of my favorite ladies:

  my mom, without whom I wouldn't be here;

  and The Sophie, who always brings my smile back.

  Parts of the Whole

  by John G. Walker

  Copyright 2012 John G. Walker

  Table of Contents


  Another Day At The Office

  By Its Cover

  Service With A Cold Smile

  Sidebar Interlude

  Shadows of Doubt

  Author Information


  We writers are a crazy, kooky lot, and we wouldn't be able to do anything without the people we know and love. It's an honor for me to be able to recognize that I have so many wonderful people in my life that keep sticking with me to keep writing.

  First, my family. That's my mom, my gramma, my sister, brother-in-law, my niece (who is awesome). Thank you all for believing in me and keeping me going when I wanted to chuck it all and be a Chippendale dancer. You gave me the faith I needed when I didn't have it for myself.

  For my friends Locofresh, Lefty and Mr. Ninja, you guys have always been there to listen to the off-the-wall ideas I have, and I gotta tell you, it's always nice having someone who might not quite understand you, but gets close enough for government work. Thank you, and we will ride again.

  For my cover artist Starla Huchton... Seriously. Just... Wow. I hope this collection is worth such an amazing cover.

  For those who have touched my life in one way or another, for good or for ill, thank you. You've helped forge me into a wordsmith, and the world may never forgive you for it. Thankfully, the good people outnumber the bad, and I am glad to know all of you. No names, but you know who you are.

  To the people following me on Twitter and Facebook, just wow. I haven't had this many folks knowing what I was doing since, well, ever. I'm hoping to keep you and everyone as entertained as possible, and I'm looking forward to a lot more down the road.

  This collection was inspired by several people who asked me questions about the backstory of the supporting cast, or wanted more stories with them. So here it is: five stories, six characters, and a few answered questions. Of course, what kind of author would I be if I didn't just cause more to be asked? Anyway, standard disclaimer: These are not real people, they're fictional characters. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is pure coincidence, as are the places.

  Now, with that out of the way, let's take a look to see the parts that make the whole of Tom Statford. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.


  Another Day At The Office

  I'm sitting down for dinner with my wife tonight. It's meatloaf, with potatoes and green beans. Some would call this a boring meal, something bland that you'd see on some television show on a family channel. Dinah is, however, a cooking show addict, and a graduate of a highly-prestigious culinary school, and the meatloaf she makes is quite possibly as close to perfect as anyone can get in life. It certainly puts my mother's to shame, which had me in the doghouse for awhile until my mom actually had it.

  Dinah takes care of me, because she knows I have a tough job. She's the reason I keep getting top scores in my performance reviews, and the reason that I keep coming home. I love her more and more every day, and I know I'm a lucky man to have her. Dinah keeps me believing that there is a bright side to the world, and even after twelve years on the force, first as a flatfoot beat cop, then up to my current rank of detective in the homicide division, I still have a smile on my face when I come home. No one understands my happiness, and I suspect that's why I've gotten popped for urinalysis so often. I don't need drugs; I have my Dinah.

  We've been married for over a decade, and I can say I have never lied to her. I know from listening to my fellow cops that I'm a bit of an anomaly. The closest I ever got to lying to her was faking that I forgot our anniversary and surprising her with a diamond necklace. I have never lied to her. I have always told her the truth.

  The last few years, though, I just haven't told her the entire truth.

  “So, Jim, how was your day?” she asks as she ladles gravy onto my potatoes. I have a high metabolism, which helps because her cooking is so good. “Anything exciting?”
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