'BREAKDOWN!'

CHAPTER I

It begins as most days do, her phone ringing. The Captain 'needs' her, at 3:45 a.m. She hurriedly dresses, brushes her strawberry blonde hair, kisses me bye, and gone.
Another morning alone in this old farmhouse we're buying. Just me, a pot of strong coffee, and my laptop. It sits there, the blank screen taunts me. "Come on, write something... anything." I tell myself this again and again, but it's still blank. As a "well known" author, I have a contract with the publisher to crank out two more books. But that was before the car accident. Now with my legs in the shape they are (the strength is half what it should be, and my knees, the cartilage is gone just bone on bone),I can't get around very well, am in constant pain, so they gave me three extensions, this last one ends in six months.
Terrific. Six months and not even a damned title or anything. Writer's block they tell me. Yeah, for nearly two years? Four hours creep by, and still not a word written! "Damn!" I shout, hurling my coffee cup at the wall, watching cold coffee splatter on the wall as the metal cup resonates. Wyatt. Huh? Could have sworn I heard someone say my name. I need another cup of coffee.
As I slowly descend the stairs, I hear the back screen door slam. "Joan, that you? Guess the captain let you come home...?" Okay, nobody there. But I know I heard the back screen door.  Hey, what's this, a note?
'I have not forgotten!' Now what in the world is that supposed to mean? Where did this come from? I didn't see it earlier when I made the pot of coffee. Joan's not home, but she must've left it, right?
Oh well, back to my office, upstairs. I painfully make it to my chair. Pulling the big desk drawer open I grab my pain meds, take them, and wait for the pain to ease up. Looking at the blank screen, I suddenly start typing. Two hours fly by and I've done six pages! Oh that feels good! Nearly two o'clock, I need some lunch.
There, on the island counter, another note! 'Remember That Day?' Alright, whoever is doing this, it's not funny. I go out on the back porch, no sign of anyone. No fresh tire tracks in the dirt. This is freaking me out. As I come back in, "Back in black" begins blaring from my phone, startling me.
"Hello? Oh hey honey. Where are you...oh, downtown, double homicide at a hotel. Hmm? I sound funny? Nah, just my legs are hurting. Ok, love you too."
Now I'm freaking out. If she's thirty miles away, who is leaving these notes?
I decide to sit in the dining room and eat my lunch. I have a full view of the back door, so I can see anyone that even walks onto back porch. After an hour or so, my legs are hurting from the hard chair, so I amble into the living room. Reaching in my mini fridge, I pull out a Dr pepper, and on t.v., a Doctor Who marathon, perfect.
My phone blaring wakes me up. " Hello. No, Joan's at work...yes, I'm here alone...hello? Hello?" Huh! Hung up. Caller ID says "restricted". Oh well, I slowly get up and make my way into the bathroom. I then notice little drops of blood on the floor. Didn't see that when I shaved earlier. Now I'm spooked. [SLAAMM!] The back screen door again! I rush out the bathroom and down the stairs as fast as my legs will allow, into the kitchen and yell "Aha!"
"Aha yourself. Haven't seen you move that fast in year's, baby."
"Joan?"
"Wyatt? What is it? You're shaking. Here sit down. What's going on? You're pale too."
"I don't know what is going on. I found two notes in here today, at different times. And just now I saw the blood drops on the bathroom floor."
"What notes, baby. Where are they?"
"On the front of the refrigerator."
"Wyatt, there are no notes on the fridge. Let me check the bathroom floor."
As she goes up the stairs, I look around the kitchen floor, under the stools...not a sign of them. Was I dreaming?
"Baby, there's nothing on the bathroom floor. Go in the living room and relax, I'll cook us a good meal, okay?"
I sit, staring at the t.v., but I keep thinking about those notes, the blood drops on the bathroom floor. How could they disappear? I hear Joan on her phone, talking to... the doctor. Great, just great. Now she thinks I'm having another nervous breakdown.
I go to my office, and call my best friend, Daniel. Blast, voicemail. "Daniel, when you get this, come over to my place if you don't mind, bye."
I open my laptop to go over what I wrote earlier. Huh? Nothing on here! The six pages, gone. What's going on today!? Wait a minute, that file. What's in it..aw, crap! Another note! Got you, because this note cannot be thrown away! I grab my phone and take three pictures of it, copy and paste it and send an email to Daniel. I hurriedly go back down into the kitchen to show Joan.
"Honey, look at this note that's on my laptop!"
"Baby, there is nothing but white screen shots."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Blank! All three of them, blank! Just then her phone rings.
"Okay, captain, I'm on my way. Sorry baby, but duty calls. Another homicide. Enjoy supper. I'll see you later, love you."
I watch until the taillights vanish in the night. I go back to the living room and crash on the couch. [KNOCK KNOCK!] Hmm? Someone at the front door, at 11:30 at night? "Hello?" Nobody here. Wait, on the door, another note 'WYATT, DO YOU REMEMBER?' Okay, now I'm scared. I go to my gun cabinet, and pull my .44 Magnum, two speed loads as well. All right, you sneaky bastard, try something now.