Good morning. My guest today is FBI agent Carl Jackson.
L: Mr. Jackson, it’s such a pleasure to have you here with us today. Of all the characters in the Jacody Ives Mysteries, you actually became one of my favorites.
C: Hell, I could have told you that. Where’s the ashtray?
L: We don’t smoke in the house.
C: No smoking, no coffee, no interview.
L: *sigh*. Well, let me see what I can do about that.
C: *grin* And put some of that good Kentucky Bourbon in the coffee.
L: Here you go. Sorry, we don’t drink.
C: “sniffing the coffee”. You ain’t American, and you sure as hell ain’t no Kentuckian.
L: Well, I assure you not all Kentuckians drink bourbon. But we’re here to talk about you.
C: Better hurry it up then. I got a date with a fishing pole and a worm.
L: Oh, yes, I remember. You didn’t get to do much fishing.
C: Yeah, and I’m still mad at you about that.
C: All I wanted was just a half hour. One half hour. And could you give it to me? No, you had to have the Chief call and chew my ass out.
L: Well, Jacody had just been shot.
C: And whose fault was that?
C: And you better not ask me how that makes me feel.
L: Oh, no, I’d never do that. I totally understand you’re not a big fan of psychologists or psychiatrists.
C: Fan? *******, psycho-social babbling fools. Ain’t got nothing better to do than **** up young kids
L: Language, Mr. Jackson. Please.
C: And who writes my language?
L: And you’re not a big fan of profiling either, are you?
C: College educated idiots. I was catching killers when he was wearing diapers. And I didn’t need no ******* ********** computer printout to tell me who to look for.
L: Well, maybe we need to move on.
C: *cell phone rings* Yeah, I’m on my way.
L: Are you going somewhere?
C: Yep. Got me a date with an old voodoo woman and a worm.
L: How are things with you and Ms. Charity?
C: Be a lot better if you’d get off your *** and write the next chapter.
L: *shuffling notes*. I do have a few more questions.
C: *standing up walking to door* Times up. And little Nikki is running out of time too. You better get to writing. *opening door* Don’t make me have to come back here.
C: *door opening—picking up forgotten cigarettes* And another thing. The next time you let some old codger clobber me I’m gonna kick your ***.
L: *grin* You were sneaking around Millie’s house with a gun in hand.
C: Yeah, and whose fault was that? *slamming door*. Next time get some damn bourbon.
So, ladies and gentlemen there you have it. Don’t worry, although he smokes like a freight train, and cusses worse than a sailor, his bark is worse than his bite. He’s really just a big old teddy bear that’s deadly when those he loves are in danger.
Carl makes a regular appearance in all Jacody Ives Mysteries.