Splatsquatch: The Ocean Crest Chronicles #1

The Uncomfortable Calm of Micheal Bolton

Mack pulled into the parking lot of Bolton 's Jewelry, which happened to be right next door to Bolton's Dance and Karaoke lounge and the Heart of Intimacy, an adult entertainment/apparel store. All three of the businesses happened to be owned by no other than Micheal Bolton, late eighties and ninety singer extraordinaire.

Nobody really knows why a pop star moved to Ocean Crest, Oregon. All the townsfolk knew is that one day Micheal Bolton showed up at the Silver Spoon cafe and he had been there ever since. He bought up three businesses within his first month of being in town and he became a solid member of the community.

Three years prior he was even elected to the city council and there was a lot of speculation about him being on a quest to become mayor. He would always deny it when asked about it, but the twinkle in his eye when mayoral talk rolled around said otherwise.

In a very short amount of time Micheal Bolton had become a fixture in Ocean Crest. And Mack had had lots of interactions with him. Each one weirder, and more awkward, than the last and Mack tried to steer clear of the crooner as often as he could. Making him uncomfortable was some Mr. Bolton was very good at and their encounter this time would be no different.

Upon seeing the sheriff's car pull into the lot, the singer stepped outside to meet him. "Mack McCoon," Micheal Bolton said as he strode forward with long, lanky steps and shook Mack's hand.

"Micheal Bolton," Mack replied. "Long time no see."

"Too long," the singer replied as he ran his hands through his perfectly groomed blonde hair. "How's Tracy doing these days?"

"She's doing great. Came to her senses and dumped me a few months back."

"I'm sorry to hear that, man."

"It's for the best. She's way too pretty, smart and funny for my liking. Not my type at all."

"I wouldn't worry too much, my friend. You are a good looking man. And a sheriff to boot. There are plenty of ladies who would love to ride in your squad car. And by ride in your squad car I mean do sex to you," Micheal said with a wink and a nudge of his elbow.

"Just last week I had a lady in my squad car," Mack replied. "And by in my squad car I mean that she did a lot of meth and peed in my back seat. I had to wash it out three times to get it to stop smelling like sulfur."

With a twinkle in his eye Micheal said, "Whatever floats your boat, my friend. Micheal Bolton doesn't judge."

There was a silence between the two tall men.

"Hey," Micheal said, "why don't I show you the damage?"

Nodding his head the sheriff replied, "That's a great idea, Micheal Bolton."

The two of them walked to Bolton's Jewelry and Mack immediately saw the door that had been kicked in. Inside glass was shattered on the floor and a few items were strewn about.

"So how much, in total, was the merchandise they made off with?" the sheriff asked.
"That's just it, Mack," the owner of the business replied. "They didn't take any of the good shit. Like none of the expensive pieces are missing."

Cocking his head, Mack asked, "None of the good stuff is gone? So what did they take?"
Micheal Bolton led Mack to a display case that had been busted open. "Just a bunch of shitty, cheap crystals and fake diamonds I keep in here," he said. "And the display case wasn't even locked. They broke that glass and made all this mess for nothing. It was a dick move, Mack."

Mack nodded. "Yes it was, Micheal Bolton," he said, "yes it was."

Micheal moved behind the counter. "I think the alarm must have scared them off or something," he said. "And it's a good thing it scared the off. Cuz if I would have made it down here while they were doing it I would blasted a few new holes in them!" he said as he pulled a sawed off shotgun out from under the counter and racked a shell.