LAST TIME (End of Chapter One where the book left off): In a crowded airport, among a massive throng of humanity scurrying about in a multitude of different directions, Brandon McCann vanished.

Word Count: 1,132

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Respectfully known among his fellow lawmen as The Bloodhound, Special Investigator David Brewster pushed thirty-three years in the Orange County Sheriff's Office, most of them with the Missing Persons Task Force. Brewster earned the name because once he scented a trail, and he could smell them a mile away, wild elephants could not impede his path.

More of a renegade than a team player, Brewster neared a felicious retirement. Perhaps Barbados, or Belize, figured into that picture? Or, more likely, Nome, Alaska. There he would construct an igloo, and wear snowshoes on his feet as his major means of transportation. A good dogsled team was also in order.

Brewster despised Florida and everything associated with the so-called Sunshine State. He always did. He dreaded beating the bushes in ninety-plus degree heat, that inevitably possessed the matching humidity, to go along with that unfathomableness.

It wasn't only the heat that annoyed Brewster to no end. The daily east coast sea-breeze meets west-coast seabreeze rainstorms, and their lightning displays that never relented, did too. Of course, those events also produced endless mosquitos, gnats, and love bugs.

Brewster was familiar with the regional folklore that love bugs were created in a lab at the University of Florida in Gainesville to eat mosquitos. Simply stated, they were a test tube experiment that exploded out of control. Wherever they came from, Brewster knew what kind of an annual nuisance these flying insects were.

All Brewster had to comment about that whole matter was, "Go Gators!"

Those were the slimy predators Brewster encountered too many times to recall. His journeys through various watering holes, searching for missing bodies over the last three decades, always resulted in their presence. Now, here he was, once again risking life and limb meandering through one of their lairs.

Yes, his team had been told in no uncertain terms by Captain Larry McNamara, "The department does not have the resources required to keep combing the same area we've already been over before!"

To which Brewster adamantly replied, "Then pull out, Larry! But, my team stays right here."

His team had previously searched several areas of the swamp they were exploring. They would keep looking there because the reports simply did not add up, for several reasons, as far as Brewster was concerned.

First off, John Bellinger admitted murdering the young prostitute while high on methamphetamines. Which meant there was a body out there, somewhere. Secondly, the swamp was the area where the killer claimed to have chained the girl to a stump, badly bleeding from the beating he'd put her through, but still alive. Bellinger asserted he did this so the bugs, and the snakes, and the creepy, crawly, critters, and the alligators could finish the "j-o-b" as he stated the word.

Most importantly, however, were Brewster's gut feelings. They convinced him he was on the right track. Therefore, he'd maintain this lead until it concluded, even if he had to go it alone. Brewster didn't care. He performed most of his best work that way.

So, there he was trudging through the mud and the muck. roasting under the sweltering heat, and cursing every step he took. That was the only way he could keep his sanity in a world gone mad. Retirement appeared better every inch of the slow-going way.

Brewster's radio crackled. He listened carefully to the transmission.

"Son of a fricken Seabiscuit!" he muttered audibly to himself, "Not another one!" he fumed.

'You could have been anything you wanted to be in life, Brewster. And, of all the professions out there, you chose to be a manhunter. As Ron White says, "You can't fix stupid!" ' he scowled at himself.

Then, he heard a loud, "Over here!" It was the young Deputy Anthony Siminelli calling.

As Brewster arrived, the youngster tossed his cookies. Brewster glanced down at the sight in front of him. There, exactly as John Bellinger ascertained, was Josephine Morrison. Or, more correctly stated, what remained of the victim. Brewster swore he'd do everything in his power to insure Bellinger received a hastened date with a needle in his near future. At this point, that was all he could do for the lass.

One down. One to go. This time it was a thirteen-year-old boy who disappeared at the Orlando International Airport. Brewster knew he should well be on his way to a leisurely, enjoyable, retirement at the close of business that day. But, somehow, he could not turn loose of this one last, final, hoo-rah.

Brewster headed for the Sheriff's Station and a piping hot shower. Afterwards, it was off to OIA to have a little chat with one each Southwest Airlines flight attendant named Becky Johnson. Whoever the Sam Hill she was?

The life of Riley that Brewster dearly pined for would wait. Come Helen Highwater he'd find the missing kid. Then, he would ride off into the golden sunset and get out of this racket for good. He'd gladly pass the baton to the next grinder in line who wanted to be a hero. David Brewster had had enough of this relentlessly proceeding train. Those shoes did not fit him anymore.

Cast of Characters:

Brandon McCann - Thirteen-year-old boy from Bangor, Maine. Vanished at the baggage reclaim area of the Orlando International Airport.

Becky Johnson - Southwest Airlines flight attendant assigned to escort Brandon McCann to his grandparents waiting at the passenger arrival gate at the Orlando International Airport.

David Brewster - Special Investigator with the Orange County Sheriff's Office Missing Persons Task Force. Known as The Bloodhound.

Larry McNamara - Sheriff's Captain.

John Bellinger - Cold-blooded murderer.

Ron White - Real life Comedian. Known for his truism "You can't fix stupid". Personally, I whole-heartedly believe this insinuation rings 100 percent correct and is repeatedly proven on a daily basis.

Anthony Siminelli - Young Deputy Sheriff who locates the remains of Josephine Morrison in the swamp.

Josephine Morrison - Prostitute grotesquely murdered by John Bellinger.