Free The Coldest Fear by Rick Reed

hundred-fifty pounds, with wispy brown hair that was already deserting his freckled crown. His ears were large and stuck straight out from his head as if they were air brakes. His eyes were overlarge, bright blue, and he had a bad ticker. But if you cut him he would still bleed cop.
    There is an idiom in news work, If it bleeds it leads. Arnold had learned early in his assignment to the cop beat that if he wanted to keep this position he would have to cover the sensational stories that the public fed on for entertainment. The more blood and mayhem, the more ink his editor would throw at it.
    But this morning he wanted nothing to do with the newspaper, nor with the police department. Something besides police work had captured his attention, and her name was Bernice.
    She was almost as tall as Arnold, but where he was solid she was shapely, where his hair was thinning hers was long and brown and luxurious. She was his age. His dream girl. And if Mother ever found out that Arnold was looking at this woman in the way that he most definitely was looking, she would scald his hide from his bones.
    He knew what he had been doing for the last week was wrong. He knew he was going to Hell, just as Mother had predicted for him so many times in his life. But he couldn’t help himself. He would spend the day in his cubicle, which just happened to look directly across to Bernice’s desk, and he could see under her desk. See her perfectly tanned long legs under the desk. Sometimes he imagined that he could see more than just her legs.
    Work today had been a nightmare, and all he wanted to do was lie across his bed and shove it all out of his mind. All of it except pretty Bernice. He thought about how she had caught him looking at her legs today and had smiled at him. He could feel himself becoming aroused at that thought. What did that mean? he wondered.
    He lay back and closed his eyes and placed his hand down the front of his khaki pants. Bernice was so beautiful. More than any other woman he had ever seen. He was aching all over. Just wanted to stay under the covers with his eyes closed and think about Bernice.
    â€œArnold? Are you up? Arnold? I need my medicine!” his mother’s shrill voice cut into his thoughts. It was early still. His day off. And she was bleating out demands. She knew she didn’t get her medicine until noon. She just wanted company. Well, he wasn’t going to answer. He would get her medicine when he was damn good and ready.
    â€œArnold? I know you’re awake. I heard your bed creaking. I need to be turned, Arnold,” came the voice again. “Why won’t you answer your mother, Arnold? What are you doing down there? Are you defiling yourself ?”
    He let out a sigh and threw the covers onto the floor. He would have to get up. He would have to go upstairs. All so that he could patiently explain for the millionth time that she couldn’t have her medicine for another two hours. He was just putting his feet down to locate his slippers when the phone rang in the living room.
    â€œArnold, the phone,” mother said, unnecessarily.
    He sat still, letting the phone continue to ring. Maybe if he didn’t answer it would stop? Maybe Mother would shut up as well? And then a thought struck him.
    â€œArnold?” his mother yelled, startling him out of his thoughts, and he thought he could hear her trying to get out of bed. He jumped up, and forgetting his slippers he ran from his bedroom at the back of the house, down the hallway to the living room, yelling, “I’ve got it, Mother.”
    He picked up the receiver and said, “Hello.”
    â€œArnie?” the voice said.
    He cleared his throat nervously before saying, “Detective Jansen. You’ve woken Mother.”
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    Jansen was used to hearing about Arnold Byrum’s eccentric mother. He could commiserate with the guy for the task of taking care of an invalid for years on end. His own