{ When it comes to fiction, crime fiction, Romeo Jones is my one ongoing creation and stubborn passion. Even I’m not sure where the character or story is going. Actually, Rome, as he likes to be called, has had many names and incarnations in the last 10 or so years. Jack Cutter. Arec Cutter. You might see these characters surface as well. Romeo Jones. The name just rolls off the tongue, but his name is also given to inherent complications. Where will I go with Rome? Got to keep writing to find out. }

Employees and customers were running from the Swifty Mini-Mart when Romeo Jones pulled up in his black Crown Victoria. “Shit. I just wanted a cup of coffee,” he said exiting the vehicle.

Mags Brenner, the store manager, was waving people across the parking lot while trying to dial her cell phone. “Get away from the building. I’m calling the police.” Then she saw Jones.

“Rome, glad to see you.”

“What’s going on, Mags?”

Two teenage employees ran past him and ducked behind the cars. Cell phones out, they were probably texting the scene already. Rome wondered if they wouldn’t try to do selfies as well.

“There’s two guys in there stealing cigarettes, one with a gun.”

Rome pulled his black sport coat away and put his right hand to his pistol. “Did you call 911?”

“Trying to now.” Mags finally got her shaking fingers to dial 911.

“911. What’s your emergency.”

“We got two fellas trying to rob the Swifty in Trinity. North on Route 227. One’s got a gun.”

“We have a report of that. The police are on there way.”

Mags spoke to Jones, “ They say they know. Police are on the way.”

“Let me have your phone,” he said. She passed the small flip-phone to him. Rome could feel the perspiration on the the plastic casing.

“This is County Detective Romeo Jones.” Continue Reading →