Previously in The Murder of Ted…
The team was assembled, Bionic Buddy had officially joined the fight, and after a week of emotional goodbyes, I finally left home to begin the battle against Ted.
This week: The manhunt begins, and, as usual, nothing goes exactly according to plan.
Thank you for joining me on this unexpected, uncozy adventure.
The Murder of Ted
A Series of Unfortunate Events, an Uncozy Adventure
Chapter Eight: The Battle Begins
Every sleuth has that moment when they stare at the evidence board and wonder if they connected the clues correctly. Did they miss something obvious? One tiny detail could change the entire case.
After a weekend of stress and emotional moments, I had squeezed my kids tight, not wanting ever to let them go.
While this story is about hope, I will be honest: there have been way more than a trickle of tears.
I wished and prayed with all my heart that this was just a dream and would disappear. Once at the beginning of this, I had asked our lord that the cross be removed from me. I imagined myself in the garden with Jesus before he was betrayed.
Jesus said, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not as I will, but as you will.”
I asked for the same. I told him I wasn’t afraid to die but that I wasn’t ready either. I asked for him to give me the strength to do his will. I was on the path to Calvary, and Jesus was about to carry me.
Don’t worry, I have had an overwhelming calm come over me. I know I am in safe hands, and Ted will not win!
It was time to go to war!
Bionic Buddy and I spent hours on the phone trying to find a place to stay. We finally settled on a Wyndham, which turned out to be less than ideal.
We arrived at our temporary home for the week while we continued searching for something more permanent.
The pictures on their websites were taken through 1,000-times rose-colored glasses.
This hotel looked like we had been transported to a B-rated 70’s horror movie. The walls had paint dripping reminiscent of blood. Light poured through the broken seal around the moldy, moisture-swollen door. The carpet was sticky. The bathroom was at least clean, and the beds appeared to be safe. See a little glitter!
The cooktop proceeded to electrocute my husband every time he cooked me a meal, and when I told my daughter about it, she not-so-affectionately dubbed him Little Shitty.
But really, what did I expect? This entire story had become a battle brewing on the horizon. A run-down hotel seemed fitting. The World War I trenches were no picnic. I could handle a creepy, rundown hotel. At least I had a bed and wasn’t sleeping in poopy mud.
Sometimes you just can’t make this stuff up.
We were excited about our choice to hire LW, but the transition was anything but smooth.
Communication and coordination outside their office bubble left something to be desired, and I began questioning whether we had made the right choice.
My husband reminded me that this was what happened when you step outside the box and choose a different path.
We were desperately trying to piece together a manhunt and connect several different agencies that didn’t normally work together. There were bound to be snafus.
The grants we had applied for were being denied because the treatment I chose was integrative rather than fully traditional. The organizations designed to help cancer patients through the devastating bankruptcy that comes with cancers like Ted’s had decided that my path wasn’t a choice I should get to make
Being allowed the chance at life was gate-kept by those who felt I shouldn’t get to choose how I would fight the fight for my life.
My husband was right, as he often is. This is why every amateur sleuth needs a rock behind them. Someone dependable, who can gently let you know when you might just be going crazy.
I was allowing my overwhelming emotions to take control. My sleuthing skills were emotionally impaired, and I needed to step back and breathe.
I took a deep breath. Every sleuth questions herself. Did I connect the clues correctly? Did I miss something?
And every writer is all too familiar with imposter syndrome. So this was not a new emotion, but it was one I had better get under control.
Monday morning, I reported for duty. LW’s team assembled and immediately, Day One went sideways.
My first treatment had to be halted because of my newly developed lidocaine allergy.
LW’s team needed confirmation that it was actually an allergy since it’s very uncommon. If it was, in fact, a true allergy, there would need to be a new pre-treatment protocol. After a skin test, there was no question; I was allergic to lidocaine.
No walking papers for me; I wasn’t fit for duty, we had to regroup.
I reminded myself that the extra precautions were exactly why we had chosen LW for this battle.
Still, I secretly worried.
Every day we waited, was Ted getting farther ahead?
Catching him was getting harder than I had ever imagined.
Day One, take-two, was a completely different story.
LW’s generals were moving troops into position and setting up their fortress.
His team heated the compound to 106 degrees, causing Ted’s crew to develop a flu-like fever. I had envisioned the mercenaries surrounding Ted’s compound. It was guerrilla warfare. They were capturing his minions and torturing them for information before vaporizing them.
This created widespread confusion among Ted’s evil team.
Muwhaaaaa!
That’s my evil laugh.
For the first time since Ted’s identity was being revealed, I felt like I had the upper hand.
I couldn’t help but smile when he reddened with anger. He never saw the sneak attack coming. I know he was confused, and I secretly hoped we could keep it that way. Ted’s genetic profile and kryptonite reveal weren’t back from Greece yet, so I wasn’t entirely sure how much Ted knew. We were waiting on intel before the full force of this new military could be unleashed.
I was also quickly learning that half of these attacks involved me being naked.
Before you freak out, let me explain.
Some of these therapies are designed to improve the immune system. My internal attack team was going through a much-needed reboot and energy refresher boot camp.
Ted had exhausted them.
So while I was in an oxygen bath and red-light therapy, still naked, I decided modesty is out the window when you get cancer. I would be flashing Ted to too many people to count!
By the time this was over, I might need to move to a nudist colony.
Just kidding, I would never do that…
My husband read crossword puzzle clues to me through the tiny opening in my red-light tube. While we laughed and Ted cried in pain.
It wasn’t exactly a spa day. The bath made me float when I needed to be submerged. I fought the oxygenated current while trying to keep BB above water and Ted drowning under it. To say I was uncomfortable would be an understatement, but I had dealt with chronic pain, so I figured it could be worse. My husband tried every effort to make me as comfortable as possible.
Meanwhile, BB was still trying to heal.
After one of the treatments, we went to remove the bandages and discovered something unfortunate. Hence the subtitle: a series of unfortunate events. Call it an inkling that there was more to come. It’s me after all, and I like to do things backwards and upside down whenever possible!
The port procedure team had glued the gauze to BB and my incision, and I couldn’t remove it. The gauze was glued 3 layers deep into my incision site. When we tried to gently loosen it, it started to tear open the fresh wound.
We weren’t about to have that baby open up, so we trimmed what we could.
My husband called the help nurse hotline on the back of my discharge papers. The nurse answered and remembered me. She was the same one who told me not to worry about my arranged marriage to BB.
“They must have put the gauze on before the glue dried,” She said.
My husband and I looked at each other and down at BB. They must have slapped the gauze on there while the glue was still coming out of the tube!
Her instructions were clear: don’t pull it off or the wound could open. Trim back as much as possible. The gauze would flake, but eventually it would fall off.
What the heck answer was that?
There I was, already looking like a Picasso painting, and now I had added industrial chic to the canvas.
Bits of gauze fuzz clung to my sticky skin. The gauze was shedding like a dog that hadn’t been groomed in weeks. I looked utterly ridiculous with a tuff of fraying gauze hanging out of me.
Somehow, Ted had struck again.
Day Three brought another round of assaults, including Ted’s first stealth-bomber attack.
Six strikes, to be exact.
Each one would lay siege to Ted’s front doorstep and surrounding facilities.
Ms. S., my pilot for the assault on Ted, took one look at me and asked, “What did they do to you?”
I told her BB’s crash-landing story and explained that I wasn’t allowed to remove the glued-on gauze because of the risk of opening BB.
She looked at me and said, “Well, it’s a good thing I’m a rule breaker. Let me fix you up while we wait for those meds to kick in.”
This procedure used lidocaine as both a topical and an internal agent. In order to deliver the sugar-laced poison to Ted’s compound, I had to be premedicated. Because even my internal attack team needed supervision.
I looked at her and smiled. “Thank you,” I said. This was when I started to understand what was different about this new team.
Every time Ted tried something, they were ready.
She replaced the gauze with Steri-Strips and patched me up like new. “They must have used the whole bottle of glue on you. “It’s everywhere,” she said as she cleaned my sore wound.
And just like a museum curator, she removed the tuft of glued-on gauze and restored me to the regular Picasso instead of Picasso Industrial Chic.
Technically, she had done what she wasn’t supposed to do. But she was a rule breaker; she said it herself, and I was very grateful. She told me that anytime I needed help, she and her unit were ready for me.
She laid siege to Ted’s fortress with six rounds of tasty poison. I imagine his little minions getting excited, rounding up the goodies, and taking them back to the hive. I felt a lot of pain, but whenever I suffered, so did Ted, and that was all the courage I needed.
LW’s mercenaries were now on the greatest manhunt of all time.
Sleuthing was still in my job description, but I had added another hat to the pile:
Rogue Attack Team Support.
I sat at headquarters, reporting back to LW’s agency on how base camp was performing and checking in daily with updates from each mission.
The rest of the week became organized chaos.
Team after team delivered sneak attacks against Ted and his many minions.
LW’s interrogation team went to work, sending camouflage troops to systematically surround Ted’s compound.
We knew he probably wasn’t home, but we also knew the compound was the source of his little Ted-minion factory.
Not everything went according to plan. My internal attack team was resisting their training. They had gotten a little too soft, and LW’s training team was trying to whip them back into shape. They needed to be reminded exactly what they were fighting for.
The treatments left me exhausted after a day’s battle. I retreated to bed for some much-needed R&R. The exhaustion was so bad some days I couldn’t even write, and for me, that said something.
The attacks continued. The treatments continued. And somewhere between the needles, the heat, the oxygen, the red light, the stealth attacks, and whatever other torture device the day had in store, my troops were learning to fight again.
I was learning, too.
Ted reacted, and his eye turned back toward me.
The lump hardened and grew redder.
Ted wasn’t surrendering.
Not yet.
But for the first time, I knew something had changed.
He knew we were coming for him.
Stay tuned for the next episode of Chapter Nine: Mama Bear Takes Command
Ready for More Murder?
If you enjoy following a good mystery, chasing clues, and wondering what could possibly go wrong next, you’ll feel right at home with my Taryn O’Kelly Mysteries.
Taryn is a reluctant sleuth who has a knack for finding trouble, stumbling into murder, and asking questions that probably should have been left alone.
My mysteries are cozy, funny, a little chaotic, and filled with plenty of twists, suspects, and fluffy murder because sometimes you need a little laughter with your crime.
Start the series with Party Planning for Murder.
And don’t forget, the antidote to the uncozy is a cozy mystery.
Until next chapter…
Happy reading.
As always, thanks for stopping by for some Salty Inspirations! -Michelle ❤️
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