ref=sr_1_1?crid=2X6F9O11VPUXB&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.dG4OTdWXYUpsxSn5fkAtlM2CjtvbUBryHEiXbyk61aJ5AQP9d4GYzFywQuI-4p8HnDyuoEAkbhqVk9UzBfhGwpEqKOVgbst7_YHDb5XmqUk.R1obIh4izXlwm04jlusPYxytuWgkJP15p2B9nQN1HTg&dib_tag=se&keywords=david+day+judge+brennans&qid=1732922886&sprefix=judge+bre%2Caps%2C131&sr=8-1

The Beginning Chapter of Judge Brennan's

Prologue
Present Day

Jane awoke and was looking for her husband, Don. It was 5:45 in the morning on a Saturday and Don did not work at the bar on Friday’s, ever. That was their night together. A movie, some downtime from work and most of the time a little romance. Don called at about 8:15 and told Jane that one of the pipes or ice makers or the basement. Don had told Jane during the call that lasted 3 minutes, but he promised to be home shortly.
He did sound like he was six deep into Guinness’s, which would be unusual for that time of night, but Don worked better at the bar when he was a couple of pints deep. Jane respected that because he did keep the place running and they were making money. And boy, were they making money!
Jane kept the books and did all the ordering and called for the repairs that Don could not do or was unwilling to do around the place. The bar was always stocked with food, liquor and beer. There was never a point where they had to say to a customer, “Oh, we don’t have that,” or “we just ran out of that.” Business was booming.
Then Covid hit and the whole alcohol consumption business had to change. But, when allowed to re-open, Judge Brennan’s was still the busiest bar in Floral Hill. Partitions were up, as required, and the tables crowded with patrons. Everyone had food in front of them even if it was three-day old bagels. That was the legal requirement for re-opening, food had to be present. Nobody ate the food; it was just there for the State Liquor Authority if they showed. And they did from time to time.
Jane had a few glasses of Chardonnay before falling asleep on the couch. When she awoke, at 5:45 am and Don was not home. The bar closed at 4:00 am, or that was the last call. But even at that, he was never this late even if he tended the bar himself, in fact after working all day as a Teamster, he should be exhausted and in his own bed.
Jane jumped in her car and drove the ten blocks from their home on Zinnia Street to Judge Brennan’s. When she arrived two of the three spaces for the pub were taken, so she took the other. The car in the first spot she recognized as one of the two Friday bartenders, but Jane could not remember her name. Don had hired her to work Fridays because of her young following from other bars in the area. But she only lived a few blocks away, and after working a Friday night, it would not be unusual for Jane to see her car on a Saturday morning when she checked the bar, as was her normal routine. In the other space was Don’s red pick-up truck. Jane took the last parking spot.

Using her keys Jane opened the back door and noticed that the lights were off in the bar. She entered the kitchen as the door closed behind her. Jane knew where every piece of equipment was in the kitchen, so maneuvering to the basement staircase through the kitchen was not a problem, even with the lights off. She called out for Don as she started to descend the stairs to the basement, but no replies to her calls.
The noise of the rear door banging again caught her attention. Maybe it was the wind, she thought to herself. She wanted to make sure she closed and locked the back entrance and went back up to check the back door. It was still closed, and the lights were out in the bar area. Confused, she opened the door and looked around but did not see anyone moving about. Closing the door and making sure the latch held, Jane flipped on the lights to the bar area and with a quick glance did not see anyone moving around.
At this point, Jane realized that the cleaning staff would arrive about Seven and she wanted to get Don out of the place soon in case he was still inebriated. Jane again started descending the stairs and flipped on the basement lights. What she saw made Jane feel ill.
There was Don on the couch in the basement, naked, in the arms of his naked 26-year-old female bartender from last evening, whatever her name was. Jane, momentarily at a loss for words, found her voice and screamed, “how dare you Don, you are a pig, and you bitch, you are nothing but a slut.” Neither of them moved, and Jane assumed that they must have been passed out considering the empty bottle of Irish Mist and the multiple other empties. Jane had made a rather good assumption.
Jane walked over and kicked Don hard in his groin area and said, “you will not be using that for a while.” With that, Don cried in pain and Jane emptied the basement safe of cash and went upstairs to take all the cash in the cash-box and register.
Upstairs, Jane turned on the lights in the bar and proceeded to the register behind the bar, when she saw Jack McMullin on the ground behind the bar with his head smashed and blood all over the area behind the bar.
Jane started screaming and ran to the back door and then to her car. She then called 911 to report what she had found. Jane assumed that Don and “whatever her name was” had committed this attack on Jack. But she did not have a basis for that assumption other than the bad memory of seeing those two naked on the couch in the basement.
“But why kill Jack?” she said to herself out loud. “Whatever could he have done to deserve that?”
The local Floral Hill PD were used to being called to Judge Brennan’s address, but not under these circumstances. Usually, it was a drunk that needed help moving along toward home, a fight over politics or religion. Many times, a woman, but never murder, not in Flower Hill.
When the police arrived on the scene, they were unable to understand what Jane was saying so they could not enter the premises to see the body. When Jane exited the bar, she did hit the exit bar on the door but did not unlock the door, so the police were at a standstill as to what was inside, and how to get to the root cause of the frantic 911 call.
Jane was shaking so violently that she could not get the correct key in her hand to open the door. With that, the duo from the basement appeared at the door and Don saw the state that Jane was currently in, and he tried to calm her down.
But, with the door now open, Jane ran inside, passed Don and screamed, “look what you two did to Jack.” They all followed Jane inside and Officer Galvin was the first to notice the body behind the bar and told everyone to stay where they were and feel for a pulse. Not finding a pulse and feeling the cool body, Galvin screamed, “this is now a crime scene.” He further shouted, “everyone outside, we cannot contaminate this scene any further.”
Without moving himself, as not to further contaminate the crime scene, he told the other responding officer, Officer Kelli O’Brien, “nobody leaves, handcuff them if you have too.” And with that instruction to his partner, radioed the situation to headquarters a few blocks away requesting a supervisor and to get the detectives up and, on the scene, asap.
Judge Brennan’s Public House was a murder scene. The initial assumption of Officer Galvin was that whoever did this was standing a few feet away from him right now. But that belonged to the police with higher pay-grades to figure out. His job right now was to secure the scene of the murder at Judge Brennan’s.

The Beginning of Floral Hill Murders
by

David Day
Chapter 1
The Starting Gate
“Hey Mister Burke, can I get another glass of soda”, Dylan said, and Markus seconded the motion, “me too”. Cat and Tom took their twins to Judge Brennan’s for a bite to eat on a Friday night. Tom took the time to explain to the boys that their grandfather was a famous union man with a great history called and he was called “Judge Brennan”. Cat further explained to her twins that their grandfather was not really a judge, but rather an imposing figure at 6 foot 8 and 270 pounds that everyone looked up to, and why he was called “The Judge”, it was his stature and leadership that created all the history of being call “The Judge”. He was called “Judge Brennan” by all the union members, and Walter Brennan was a sandhog, building the tunnels and tracks that the subway system in the city utilized. Walter had a ticket in steerage on the Titanic, but the steerage on that fateful day was full. It turns out he was thankful for missing that ship. Walter did lose his best friend on that fateful trip, when he told Tim to take the last available steerage accommodation, but he was able to work through the details of his friend’s death and wound up working as a Sandhog, the men that dug the subways and laid the tracks.
Walter was a leader. He did lead his men through very difficult times below ground, every day, side by side. It was with Walter’s direction that the Sandhogs that became a driving force in the building of the big city that allowed the city to grow, and he never asked for anything but a fair wage for him and his men.
What Walter Brennan created with the sandhogs was legendary, and that is how they came to name the restaurant “Judge Brennan’s”. The owners were hard working union members who understood the work that Walter Brennan put into creating the structure for the many unions that created the big cities across the United States and helped the unions survive have survived for many years.

The twin boys were awakened by their father revving his Harley in the garage. They loved the sound of their dad’s Harley Davidson motorcycles. Their dad was a Sargent on the motorcycle team for the city police force. Thomas Dougal taught his twins to ride Harley’s while they were young. Catherine, or Cat was never particularly in love with bikes. In fact, she could care less if the boys ever rode a Harley. But she loved Tom and everything about him since high school.
Cat succumbed to cancer three weeks after her 35th birthday, leaving Tom to raise the boys through their informative years. And boy, did they have fun. Dad, while being the adult in the crowd, was not in a position to tell the boys how to do anything, except fix their bikes. The boys did not listen to anyone and the boys developed their own flair for the town.
They certainly got in enough trouble for their dad to be called down to the police station in Floral Hill on multiple occasions. Tom and Steve, the Floral Hill Police Commissioner had a relationship that went back many years from the city police force and the PBA. But the boys did have their mother’s gift for gab and could usually talk themselves out of any situation. But on occasion that did not even work out well.

Tom had unfortunately developed his own cancer when the boys were seniors in high school, and it was terminal. He died three months after his diagnosis. The boys, both 18, graduated high school without any parents, but their grandparents from their dad’s side made sure they graduated. The boys were fortunate enough to inherit the home in Floral Hill that had been the family home and a lake front vacation home in New Hampshire. Their grandparents also owned a lakefront home on the upper peninsula of Michigan that the boys and family used for hunting and fishing on a regular basis. Their mother would have been so proud of the Dougal twins in this situation with the loss of their parents, and the young men that they turned into at this stage of their life.
Dylan and Markus Dougal were good boys at heart. But without any guiderails, they would lead each other down a path that would continue to spiral downward the more time that passed. The boys had a passion for motorcycles, Harleys to be exact that they got from their father. In addition, the two of them knew how to fix anything on a Harley. At 18 years old and with all the money you needed for your life, this was trouble brewing, and they knew a whole group of bikers to get into trouble across the country.
With their dad’s influence, the twins knew some type of boundaries, but only to a point, and with dad gone, the twins were testing the system on a regular basis. The boys needed more structure than their resources allowed. The grandparents either did not know how to control the situation, or were oblivious to the world and life the twins had created for themselves and their future.

The Floral Hill police department saw the twins as menaces. These two needed to be coached into adulthood, but they lacked a coach. But the bad situations may have already occurred. The police tried to control the environment, but without a dominant household person in the situation, even the police were at a loss on this one. The grandparents were not any help in this situation, because they were not the parents. The grandparents could not provide the grandkids with the necessary assistance the twins required. The Floral Hill Police Department regularly had a cruiser or black and white parked around the corner from the twins’ home just to be able to respond quickly to any developing situation at the house.

On a Wednesday evening, returning home from a Broadway show at a local venue, Joanie Scarpa at 82 years old, exited the train at 11:51 pm and was raped and killed on Oak Street in Floral Hill. No one called the Floral Hill police about the murder because the body was hidden in the bushes. Once the gardeners arrived on Friday, and they found something other than leaves in the bushes.
The officers on the scene immediately called it into headquarters and requested that the local detectives be dispatched to the scene. Kelli O’Brien and her partner for several years, Jimmy Corsi, were used to working together, but their gig in Floral Hill did not include murder. The Floral Hill detectives had a history of dealing with various crimes and solving them. Murder investigations needed to go to the county police for investigation. That was the agreement with the Village of Floral Hill and Franklin County. Floral Hill detectives would provide back-up to the county detectives.

Kelli immediately knew that she needed to call Sal Morabito, the lead county detective to bring him up to speed on new this case. Kelli and Sal had a long-standing relationship of working cases, although murder was rare, there were a whole set of cases that they worked together. Kelli and Sal worked hundreds of cases together and most were successfully adjudicated in the court system.
Sal had many municipalities that he was responsible for solving crimes, but Sal had a special affection for Kelli, she was tougher than most of the individual village detectives. Kelli could get things done whereas most of the other local town detectives were looking forward to their pensions. There was one other thing, Kelli could kick your ass in a fight. That was something to be measured against when you had your back against the wall. Sal needed to know that someone had his back, and Kelli would do just fine in a fight.

The twins, Dylan and Markus Dougal, had grown up surrounded by the roar of Harleys and the influence of their father, a city police sergeant and motorcycle enthusiast. Despite their mother's disinterest in bikes and her early passing after a battle with cancer, the boys immersed themselves in the world their father loved. Tom Dougal had cultivated a sense of Conway in them as they grew, teaching them to fix their bikes and instilling a passion that would persist even after his death from cancer during their senior year of high school. Left with an inheritance that included a family home and a lakefront retreat, the boys faced the challenge of navigating adulthood without parental guidance.
Their grandparents attempted to provide support, but the absence of firm parental control left Dylan and Markus living on the edge, “drive fast and take chances” was their motto. The Floral Hill police viewed the twins as troublemakers, aware that their indulgence in the biker lifestyle could lead them to further complications. Despite this, the boys' charm and their mother's gift for gab often saw them wriggling out of tight spots, but their actions increasingly tested the limits set by their father when he was alive.
The police department struggled to manage the twins as best as they could, but with no authoritative figure present to guide them properly, the situation grew haphazardly. As the situation grew more intense the local Floral Hill Police sought ways to lead these young men towards a more friendly environment.
The killing of Joanie Scarpa, an elderly woman who was assaulted after a late-night train ride, shocked the community. Detectives Kelli O’Brien and Jimmy Corsi, accustomed to handling smaller crimes, now found themselves confronting another murder investigation. Commissioner Steve Stanzione was not thrilled with another murder in the Village. He would come to learn that his relationship with Tom Dougal that caused many of the current problems with the twins, now that the parents were no longer alive.
Kelli, experienced and tough, contacted Sal Morabito, the county detective responsible for Floral Hill, to collaborate on solving the case. Their partnership, was built on trust and effectiveness in resolving past cases, was crucial given the rarity of murder in the Floral Hill area. Sal appreciated Kelli's determination and reliability, knowing she was a formidable ally, capable of tackling whatever challenges arose. As the town grappled with the tragedy, the need for direction and accountability became painfully evident, especially for the aimless Dougal twins.
The twins were about to encounter a force of nature that they never had to deal with when their dad was alive. Kelli O’Brien, the lead detective in Floral Hill.

Unveiling the Shadows: The Floral Hill Racetrack Murders

A Mystery That Shakes Floral Hill to Its Core

Department.

Chapter 1

Off to the Races

Today would be Kelli’s first day back at work after having Kelly. Kelli awoke at 3:45 in the morning just to hold Kelly, with a “y” just to differentiate her from her mom, who given name was Kelli, which was shortened from Kellianne. Kelli could not think of anything better, her live was great. Married to her high school sweetheart, and having here dream job in Floral Hill, Kelli had it all. Kelli’s parents lived around the corner. Her husband’s parents lived diagonally across the street, and Ken and Kelli owned the house that backed up to the Floral Hill Racetrack.

Kelli took Kelly and moved her into bed between her and Ken. It was now 4:15 in the morning, and Ken knew he was not going back to sleep. To him it was fine, he and Kelli put the kids down early and they were in bed by 9:30 pm. They knew the kids were going to be racing through the house by 5 AM. Today was going to be a good day until Kelli’s cell rang at 4:55 in the morning.

Richie Hughes took the bus to work every day. It was only a twenty minute bus ride to his job at the Track, but he needed to do it at 5:00 AM. He was home to get the kids off the bus while his wife, and Richie’s wife is gorgeous, nobody doubted that Richie married up in the world. Yvonne as a nurse at the worked at the medical center. Their two kids were the center of his life.

Richie was an exercise rider for the horses at Floral Hill. He was able to ride early in the morning and turn the horses over to the Veterinarians for further examination. In most cases, it was nothing that anyone needed to work out past an initial examination. He started each day in Stable 23D and moved to the other stables that his employer utilized. This morning Richie was to start with a ride on Today, the favorite in the upcoming sweepstakes race this weekend. He worked for the famous horse trainer, Scott Beckett. Scott used the services of Greater Floral Hill Vet Services on Plainfield Avenue, and he seemed to have a will over them in the past dealing. It was either him or the drug company representative

The track had multiple services to the lesser end of the spectrum for employees, but Richie had married very well and could afford to live outside the means of the track. Yvonne Hughes was the head nurse on the day shift for neo-natal care at the local medical center. Yvonne had seen it all as a nurse in neo-natal care unit and most were very successful. She prided herself on getting all the infants out of the unit and home with their parents. Yvonne was very proud of Richie and what he had accomplished, she was in love with Richie.

Richie had to be at work by 5 AM. Yvonne had the luxury of getting to work at 9 AM. She would do the drop-off, and Richie would be around to do the pick-ups. Their oldest, Evelyn, named after his mom, and Mark, named after one of the apostles, were always ready when he arrived at school. They would go home and do the homework right away and watch TV while dad took a nap. He would need to be awake at 4 PM to start dinner. That was the way the family worked, and it worked out very well

On Tuesday morning, when Richie arrived at work just before 5 AM in the morning to do his rides, he noticed a lump in the corner of the stall. He approached it with caution but realized that it was a human body. As he approached, he realized that it was the veterinarian, Janice Rankel. She was dead.

Richie Hughes was an immigrant from Ireland, but he married an American. But he was unsure of his legal status in America, while he should not have worried about that at all. But he was going to come under some scrutiny, only for finding the body of the veterinarian. But it was not his fault, he was just the first to arrive at the scene.

There was not any blood or trauma in any visual signs or means, in Richie’s mind, maybe she just got sick. As he approached the body and took a quick pulse from the neck as he had seen on many cops shows on TV, he quickly realized that he needed to call somebody. The body was cold.

Richie looked around and there was nobody to be found. How could this happen in the Floral Hill. Richie was not sure he could answer that question, but he knew he was in trouble, and he needed help. His first call was to his wife, Yvonne, and he wanted to know what to do.

Her response was very simple, “I have your back, call 911. “I will call in today, I have plenty of time, I will be at you side after I drop off the kids. You will be fine honey, I promise. Call 911!”

Domino Bacardi was the exercise rider for Yesterday”s Child in addition to other horses. But Yesterday’s Child was going up against Today this weekend in the Floral Hill Steaks. Dom, as he was known, also had to be at work at 5 AM. Dom lived on the Floral Hill property and took part in all the accoutrements that the racetrack provided. Subsidized housing, low cost meals, daycare if you needed it, but Dom did not need it just yet. He just needed “three hots and a flop”. As an immigrant from Barbados, he was at the low end of the spectrum. He was only 20 years old, but he learned really fast how to ride horses early on in his life. And at his size, he could get to be a jockey one day.

In the eleven months since his arrival in the states, he was on a first name basis with all the veterinarians, he simply called them all “DOC”. He just wanted to be know as Dom. It was simple and easy, and he believed that with that short of a name, it would get him to be a Jockey sooner.

Upon his arrival at 5 AM at the132B stable, he discovered a dead body of one of the Vets, Chris Rankel, the lead doctor of the Greater Floral Hill Vet Services. He did not know about the other Rankel body on the other side of the Floral Hill Racetrack campus, but he knew he needed to call someone.

The stables were designed to keep the horses safe. Each horse had its own stable where they could be fed, drink and do their daily business. Staff would come by and make sure to clean the stalls and make sure that the horses would have nourishment during the day.

Dom noticed something off to his left as he checked the body for life, as fast as he could move, Dom ran to the opening. He saw nothing moving, it was still dark, and he was not sure what he saw in his peripheral vision. Dom stood for a moment and thought to himself, “it was nothing, call 911”.

At that exact moment, the racetrack police cars were running through the enclosed village on their way to stable 23D. He needed to make his call to report a body of Dr. Rankel that he had just found.

Dom needed to call 911 to report the body of Chris Rankel. The 911 dispatched at the Floral Hill headquarters was confused. Dispatcher, Chris Wilson, said “you must be mistaken, we already have a call at 23D, you said 132B”. Dom, in his broken English said, “I know were I am standing”.

Wilson said, “are you telling me we have two bodies?” Dom responded, “ I know where I am standing, and it is definitely 132B.”

Wilson, “Dom, do you know Richie Hughes?”

Dom, “of course I do, and his horse is in 23D.”

Chris Wilson was totally confused. How could there be two dead bodies at the racetrack that had not had a body in 40 plus years. His supervising officer, Matt Viscusi, was out on routine patrol.

Wilson, “Matt, I have a problem here. I have two calls from the racetrack reporting dead bodies. One in 23D and the other in 132B.”

Wilson, “I dispatched Mike Sullivan to 23D but I need to dispatch someone else to 132B. With us being shorted staffed tonight, I could send Hank, but that would leave no one in the village?”

Viscusi, “where are Kelli and Galvin?

Wilson, “I called Kelli, but I did not call Galvin. Today’s Kelli’s first day back from maternity leave, So I thought I would let Galvin sleep because he has been doing double duty for six weeks.”

Viscusi, “Get him up, he gets paid a detective grade, all hands on deck right now. Don’t call the commissioner yet, I will make that call if I know more. I am heading to the track now.”

Once Viscusi ended the call, he started the short ride to the racetrack. Matt was not a gambler, but the racetrack had many amenities for the kids, so he would take them there often. He knew the route to the track.

Chapter 2

The Shadows

At 5 AM John Grant, the Director of Security for the Floral Hill Racetrack arrived at his office with two cups of coffee. That should keep him going till lunch. The first call came in at 5:01 AM from stable 23D, there was a person that was deceased. John thought to himself, “oh crap, I should have called in sick today”.

The second call came in immediately after the first call, there was a deceased person in 132B. John tried to correct the caller and say 23D, but what he received back was, no, no, no! I am looking at the sign, 132B. John fell back in his high back leather chair and said to no one around, “I should have retired yesterday.”

John immediately picked up the phone and called the Floral Hill Police Department. John knew the routine when somebody alerted law enforcement about a body. John and the Commissioner of Floral Hill went back a really long time, but he did not need to wake the Floral Hill Commissioner just yet. John had his own team and let them be the first ones on the site or sites. But John never needed to wake Steve up at five in the morning, but John had a headache already. John was on the radio with his team, and they confirmed his worse fear, one body in 23D, a woman and one body in 132B, a male. They were both identified as Vets from the hospital across the street from the racetrack.

John called Floral Hill dispatch and confirmed to Chris Wilson that there were two bodies. John reiterated who he was and his relationship with the Commissioner, and he needed help, a possibility of two dead bodies. The dispatcher, Chris Wilson, said she would place the call to Steve and to Kelli. Steve would be the better half of those phone calls because he was always polite. Kelli on the other hand would tell Chris exactly what she felt at 5:02 AM, and it usually had the middle finger associated with it.

Kelli; “Ken, I need to go to work, you are on duty this morning. I know it is my day but, darling, I Love you! Can you do it today, I promise you a surprise.”

Ken; “It is not like I have a lot of choices.”

Ken; “Could you put here back in the crib, I am going downstairs to update myself on the markets.”

Kelli; “Love you, got to go, some type of murder in town.”

Ken; “Try not to shoot someone, we have mortgage payment to make over the next several months.”

Kelli; “I will try hon, but if they shoot at me first, I am good from 40 feet as we know. And you are less than 40 feet right now.”

Ken; “I did not say a word.”

Kelli; “I did not think I heard anything, I will catch up with you as soon as I can……Love you.”

And she was gone.

Ken went downstairs to make coffee and check the Asian Markets as was his daily routine.. As he watched the Asian Markets, he heard little feet coming down the stairs. They were all smiles and wanted to know were mommy was, but more importantly, what was for breakfast. Ken was able to keep one eye on the Asian Markets and another on the kids. Breakfast this morning was just cereal, and Ken started to make the lunches.

Kelli jumped in her new Village issued SUV and raced off toward the track. Kelli and Ken’s property butted against the track, but to get to the front gates was about two miles. Kelli called dispatch and got it on one ring.

Kelli’ “did you wake Galvin, Kelli wanted to know?”

Wilson, “Yes I did, John Grant called the Commissioner, who called me and said “wake anyone you can, John sounds frantic with the stakes going off this weekend. I don’t know what to tell him. We have been friends a really long time, both of us detectives in the City.”

Kelli, “let me call Galvin, I will take 23D and he can have 132B, wherever that is?”

Wilson, “Galvin will figure it out, he has good common sense.”

With that comment, Kelli disconnected the call and called Galvin.

Kelli, “you go to 132B and I will take 23D!”

Galvin: “sounds like a plan, lets meet for lunch and see if there are any commonalities in these investigations.”

Kelli: “That’s sounds like a plan, Diner? On Me.”

Detective Galvin was promoted to detective with the hiring of Jimmy Corsi by Frankin County and Sal Morabito. Sal got promoted to lead detective in the county because of all the hard work of Kelli and Jimmy. They put some really bad people in jail. Sal wanted Kelli to take his place, but after a two second conversation with Ken, Kelli was staying put in Floral Hill.

Floral Hill promoted her to lieutenant and there was not an upside to taking the position with the county. And when Lieutenant Quinn retired next year, Kelli was due to replace Quinn. That was the plan. Life is what happens when you make other plans.

The biggest part of the Shadows was how big it was in terms of area. The Floral Hill Racetrack was larger than most racetracks. Yes you needed all the space for the horses. The track itself was one and a half miles, the largest in the states. But in the shadows there were apartments, deli’s, restaurants, schools and daycare. But the hardest part for all the teammates was moving around 500 or 600 pound horses.

In addition, there were owners, trainers, exercise riders, jockeys and stable mates. Everyone had a say in how this horse had been expected to preform in the next race. Trainers would send their horses to Florida, Delaware, Kentucky or all the way west to California if they could get a good race. But the stakes races was where you made money. They did not want to throw a thoroughbred into a claiming race, especially if you really liked the horse’s chances for a win. And it you could get some stud fees or fold fees; the end justified the means.

Kelli, Galvin, the commissioner, and most of the other Floral Hill Police Officers have toured the Shadows of Floral Hill. But when you do it during the day you get a different prospective than at dusk or later. During the evening, watching a soccer game could prove fatal.

In terms of size, it was immense. Generally, Floral Hill had one car that patrolled the track every night. On this particular night, Sean called out sick, down one person before the night started. The commissioner could call the county for back-up, that was not really a good move, because the county wanted to creep into Floral Hill in the worse way. In terms of size, it was immense, and Floral Hill needed that tax revenue. That would be a huge amount to flow to the county and out of Floral Hill. So, they left it alone for one evening. A perfect opportunity for a killer to raise their head.

A Mystery That Shakes Floral Hill to Its Core

Privacy Settings

Select all services

Website Translator