Dead Write

Short Story- Love’s Thanksgivings Bounties (Thanksgiving with the Blackstone's)

2011-11-20T11:44:00.000-08:00

my book Love's Labours Won- The Stone Chronicles - Book 1

Please enjoy my short story below based on the characters in my book,

Love’s Thanksgivings Bounties

It was Thanksgiving and Sarah was grateful, after a couple of years of no one to share Thanksgiving with she had much to be thankful. The table looked magically, a turkey fresh out of the oven now sat in the middle of the table Darius’s contribution. Darius had insisted on not making the dressing inside the turkey. He said health regulations advised against that so he had made cornbread dressing in the oven along side the turkey.
The dressing was something Sarah had never tasted before and Sarah wondered if she would like the unique flavours of it. She liked cornbread it was delicious so maybe as a dressing it too would be scrumptious. Dressing in the Dexler’s turkeys had been the standard dressing of bread with celery poultry seasoning onion and celery. The Dexler’s dressing for their turkeys was always delicious and Sarah had enjoyed every bite of those turkeys prepared by the Dexler’s housekeeper. Darius was an expert in cooking so surely Sarah would like this dressing as well? It had something in common with that dressing she remembered having onions in it but there were also green onions in it and laden with turkey broth. The pies on the counter looked delicious too as they were hand made by Aunt Iva and Sarah herself. Sarah prided herself on her homemade crust which was flaky and delicious. No store bought frozen crust for this girl. Aunt Iva had even complimented Sarah on her crust. Then she had offered her preserves of strawberries, rhubarb, cherries and peaches for the pies. When Sarah had commented she had hoped to make apple pie Aunt Iva had supplied a bushel of apples from the root cellar.

Sarah had wondered if she had overdone the pies as she looked at the side table laden with ten pies. There were after all only six people for dinner but Aunt Iva had said they would be lucky to have pie left over for tomorrow with three boys at the table. Sarah laughed at this Aunt Iva still called Darius and Demetrious’ boys. The table was beautifully decorated by Janelle, with the leaf lined table cloth and the beautiful horn of plenty in the middle of the table. Janelle had the eye of decorator when it came to details like these and made it look like something out of a magazine. Everything looked wonderful and Sarah felt a tear come to her eye when she recalled what she had gone through in the last year. She now had family, a home and a job. As she looked around and saw all the people she had become friends with and she now considered family sitting and laughing; she thought what more could a girl ask for? Sarah was truly thankful.

©Sheilagh Lee November 14 ,2011

Southern Style Cornbread Turkey

In a large pot take cooked two turkey wings and giblets and season with salt pepper and boil until tender. Set aside broth

Take cornbread you have baked in oven in large skillet and crumble into bowl.

Bake cornbread in large black skillet breaking cornbread into large bowl. Add cut up green onions, round onions, celery, 2 to 3 beaten eggs, and 3 chopped boiled eggs. Add 1/2 loaf of cut up bread mixed with cooked onions and celery with poultry seasoning. Toss together then add as much broth (you may take some juices from baked turkey which you have set aside before making gravy.) Be careful not to make dry by adding juices (broth to keep wet ) Make sure it doesn’t get dry. Place in shallow baking dish (glass is good because it preserves heat.) serve warm to table with turkey.

Cornbread recipe baked in oven in skillet

1cup of cornmeal

2 cups of flour

1/2 cup of white sugar or 1/4 cup of molasses

Enough butter or and milk to moisten

Cook until slightly brown and cooked throughout (think cake like).

Thank you for visiting. Leave any comments below.

Three Word Wednesday

2011-09-14T08:06:00.000-07:00

Backward; adjective: Directed behind or to the rear; (of a person) having learning difficulties; adverb: (Of a movement) away from one's front; in the direction of one's back; toward or into the past.

Ease; noun: Absence of difficulty or effort; absence of rigidity or discomfort; verb: make (something unpleasant, painful, or intense) less serious or severe; move carefully, gradually, or gently.

Omission; noun: Someone or something that has been left out or excluded; the action of excluding or leaving out someone or something; a failure to do something, esp. something that one has a moral or legal obligation to do.

The Kids Are All Right

Mary watched as George made the kids lunches.

“Didn’t he trust her to make them anymore? He just seemed to go through life in a fog anymore ignoring her.” Mary thought

“George let me make them please. You are making a mess of that sandwich. Frannie doesn’t like it when you make the jam squeeze out the side, and peanut butter? Really George? You know the school has banned peanuts because of student allergies. I can do it with ease if you’d let me.”

“Daddy we can’t eat that. Peanuts are banned. Sheryl has a peanut allergy just me taking that to school could kill her.” Dara complained loudly “Frannie can’ t take that either. Geesh Dad, you make sandwiches all backward”

“I did try Dara. I’ll try to remember that omission next time.” George promised

“Geesh he wouldn’t even look at me when I complained but he jumps when Dara complains.” Mary thought “it was like they didn’t have a relationship anymore. The only thing that seemed to be keeping them together was the kids. He didn’t even yell like he usually did how odd.

“Go tell your sister we are leaving in five minutes for school.” George demanded angrily “I can’t be late for work again I’ll lose my job.”

“If you’d let me drive them like I used to you wouldn’t be late.” Mary sniped

George just stared into space and ignored her after Dara left.
He then proceeded to ignore her some more.
"George really listen to me. I have to go to work soon. I could drive the kids you don't have to worry about being late"
George doesn't answer and Mary gets annoyed.
"Geesh George I make one small mistake and you won't talk to me?"
"Dara we are going to be late."George shouted
"Fine then I'll quit the job. I know you want me to be home for the children."
George just seemed to nod at his head while not looking up from the newspaper he was reading.George then proceeded to the front door to get his shoes ignoring Mary.
“I know I was wrong to do that George. I’m never going to do that again. Why won’t you forgive me?” Mary demanded

“Damn you Mary why did you make me do this?” George asked

“What did you do George?”Mary wondered aloud

Just then there was a knock at the door. George opened to a police officer. Two uniformed police officers came in along with a woman dressed casually.

“George Barnes?”

George just nodded.

One policeman then took out his cuffs and put George in handcuffs behind his back.

“What’s going on? What am I being arrested for. I have two kids upstairs you know.”

“George Barnes you are under arrested you for the murder of your wife Mary Barnes on May 2^nd of this year. “You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer questions. Do you understand? Anything you do say may be used against you in a court of law. Do you understand? You have the right to consult an attorney before speaking to the police and to have an attorney present during questioning now or in the future. Do you understand? If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish. Do you understand? If you decide to answer questions now without an attorney present you will still have the right to stop answering at any time until you talk to an attorney. Do you understand? Knowing and understanding your rights as I have explained them to you, are you willing to answer my questions without an attorney present?”

“I didn’t kill my wife and what about my children?” George asked again

“Mr. Barnes we are aware of your children Ms. Albert from social services will take custody of them.”

The policeman then took George away.

Mary at first wanted to deny it. She wasn’t dead but when they started reading George his rights she remembered. She remembered the beating she took from George. Thank goodness the kids hadn’t been home but at her mother’s.

George had yelled at her for forgetting to make the reservation. She had made one but they had lost it. Would he listen? No it was like every other time she should have walked away. He hit her first blackening her eye. Then he knocked out two teeth as he broke her jaw. He just seemed to never lose his rage that night.no matter how many times she begged and pleaded he just kept hitting. She remembered becoming unconscious then waking up barely to him chopping her bodies into pieces then fading away.

“The kids would her kids be okay? They must never be with George.” Mary thought

While Mary had been thinking time had passed and she found herself in a courtroom a jurist stood up

“In the murder of Mary Barnes, we find the defendant George Barnes guilty in the first degree.” said the Jurist

“George Barnes you have been found guilty by a jury of your peers. I sentence you to twenty five years in prison.” the judge stated

“Twenty five years, my life was only worth twenty five of his?” Mary asked disgusted to none in particular.

Mary then found herself floating in time and space to her parent’s home.

“Paul I just got the call. The grandchildren will remain with us not George’s parents. We've won.” she heard her mother say excited.

Mary smiled the children would be safe with her parents. She turned and saw and outstretched hand in a luminous light. In her head she heard “Come Mary it’s time you rested and got well.”

Mary wanted to go the light was so bright but she didn’t want to leave her children. Then she looked and saw Gabby and Dara sitting beside her mother smiling and happy. She knew then she could say goodbye. The kids were all right.

©Sheilagh Lee September 14 ,2011

Three Word Wednesday

2011-09-07T10:07:00.000-07:00

Erode; verb: (Of wind, water, or other natural agents) gradually wear away (soil, rock, or land); gradually destroy or be gradually destroyed.

Heart; noun: A hollow muscular organ that pumps the blood through the circulatory system by rhythmic contraction and dilation; one's mood or feeling; the central or innermost part of something; verb: Like very much, love.

Observe; verb: notice or perceive (something) and register it as being significant; watch (someone or something) carefully and attentively; fulfill or comply with (a social, legal, ethical, or religious obligation).

April Showers Bring May Flowers

“And how are we today April?” asked the voice I’d learned to dread

I answered “Fine” because I thought if I didn’t bad things would happen.

I still puzzle why I am here in this sterile white walled place… but never aloud, the one time I did the repercussions were not something I wanted to repeat. Somehow a padded room and a jacket were not at all comfortable. I realized the man had been droning on and I had not heard one word.

“April why are you here?” The voice in the white coat asked almost sighing

“I wanted a vacation spot?” I spouted my heart beating fast

“April, we talked about this. You use humour as a defense mechanism but we need to talk about what happened the night of May 10^t.h.

“Nothing happened.” I answered quickly I was never going tell anyone what happened that night, not ever. I bit my lips as if to keep them from speaking.

“I know you are scared but you need to talk about that night to get better. Trust me April am your doctor and I need to know what happened to you in order to help you.”

“I don’t want to talk about this.” I persisted frightened if I talked about this it made it real. Reality was not a place I cared to live.

“April, I’m sorry but you are making it difficult for both of us. We have to get to the bottom of this in order to resolve your difficulties.” He persisted injecting something into my arm.

I felt myself floating way from him deeper inside my own body. From far off I hear a voice say

“Why do you persist in this doc? April is an innocent she wasn’t there that night. I was.”

I was puzzled someone else was there the night Jerald died? The only thing I remembered from that night was the blood that clung to my shirt and somehow got on my hands. I also remembered the rough treatment from the police before I passed out and found myself here in a padded room dressed in a strait jacket. Was this the person who killed Jerald? I wanted to see them but this deep sleep the doctor had put me in kept me trapped only able to listen… and so I did some more.

“What is your name?” the doctor asked sounding surprised

“May” the voice answered

“And what is your purpose May?” asked the doctor

“To bring flowers.” laughed May

“I don’t understand.” commented the doctor

“I was the observer.” May answered

“Was? Never mind, let’s move on to the same question I asked April.”

“What’s up doc?”

“What happened on the night of May 10th?” asked the doctor

“Happened? Why Jerrald the rat died.” Replied the voice

Jerrald was a rat? What was this voice going on about? They obviously didn’t know Jerrald well. He had his faults yes he was a little too sharp at times. Perhaps a little too easy with his temper but he loved me. I know he did and I loved him. Jerrald had loved me despite the fact that I was a mouse and liked to hide in corners in social situations.

“Jerald like the attention he got with April on his arm. He liked that she was shy and retreating so other men would escape her notice. She was sweet trusting and loveable but he slowly eroded her confidence making her a mouse, hiding in corners lest she offend him.” May said angrily

“And what did you do about this?” the doctor asked

“I, what could I do? I stayed silent until I was needed.” May answered

“But you didn’t stay silent did you, and that made matters worse for April. Didn’t it?”

“I couldn’t stay silent. He was harming her.” May answered

“How was he harming April?” the doctor persisted

“She cried.”

“She cried? When and why did April cry?”

“So many times she cried. When he would go out at night and come home smelling of other women. She cried.” May responded

“So he was cheating on her did that make you angry?”

“I was angrier when he hit her gave her black eye and broke her arm. She cried then too.” May answered and I heard anger in her voice

How had she known of Jerald’s cheatings and his beatings of me? How could she have known? I told no one. She spoke of a broken arm. I had no broken arm and I didn’t remember a broken arm. Yet my arm did ache in the cold and damp. This was curious.

“Does April know about you?”

“April know of me? Not likely is it. How could I protect her if she knew?”

“You protect her then? You don’t allow bad things to happen to her?”

“Didn’t I just say that?” asked May

“Did you protect April the night Jerrald died?” asked the doctor

“I did, Jerrald was trying to kill her. He wasn’t going to stop that night.”

“Tell me what happened.” Begged the doctor

“April was excited. He had promised her a night out. She bought a new dress and had her hair done.” May began

How did she know all this? I wondered trapped in my slumber.

“She thought she was finally going to get a marriage proposal. Frankly I was dismayed. I thought she should leave him not marry him. He however had other plans.” May answered

How did she know this? Did I know this May? I didn’t remember meeting any May. And what was this about Jerald? He had been going to propose to me I know he was.

“Jerald had found another woman he could manipulate better. He decided to kill April.”

Why was she lying about this Jerrald would never hurt me. I thought but then I thought back to all the times he had hit me and given me a black eye. He had hurt me. Could she be telling the truth? No, Jerald wouldn’t kill me. He didn’t have another woman.

“Jerald began by placing the plastic on the floor. I saw him. She was to step on the floor and then he would shoot her but I removed the bullets.”

“You knew and just removed the bullets?” the doctor asked

“Oh no not at first I suspected he was up to something when he put the plastic down but it was only when I saw the bullets being placed in the gun that I knew. I took them out but even that didn’t help.”

“Why didn’t that help?” the doctor asked curiously

“He had a back-up plan. He had the knife he planned to chop her up into little pieces with it.” May explained

“So what happened?” Asked the doctor

I couldn’t believe what this woman was telling him I wanted to leave this fog I was in and shout she lied. Jerrald wouldn’t try to kill me.

“What happened? I observed him He raised the blade to strike her and I fought back. I grabbed the knife and when we were fighting it went in him. I think it struck his heart. Appropriate don’t you think he eroded her heart and I eroded his.”

She had killed him. She claimed to save me but I didn’t remember seeing her. That night was a blank. Could she be telling the truth?

“And you left her to face the police?” the doctor asked

“I couldn’t stay. I stepped out my job was to observe not kill. I couldn’t handle it. I called the police and left.” May answered

“Do you think April knows?” Asked the doctor

“She does now. April’s been listening as we speak. Tell her I’m sorry I had to protect her.”

She knows I’m listening? How does she know that? I wondered

“April I did all to protect you. We are important, worthwhile, and loveable don’t let Jerrald’s behaviour destroy you.” May stated suddenly talking directly to me.

I began crying inside. I didn’t understand what was going on but it made me sad.

“Why are you crying May?” asked the doctor

“I’m not crying April is.”

“April is crying? Does she understand what happened that night?” asked the doctor

“I told she is listening. Aren’t you April? She is crying .I must take charge.” May said taking control.

I understand now May is in charge because I let her be. I couldn’t handle life so she helped me. This conversation happened months ago and still I hide in darkness, May is in charge now she’s living my life. The doctor keeps trying to intricate us but I am reluctant. I am enjoying hiding in the shadows, letting May fix things. May is stronger and wiser than I. She won’t let anyone harm us. She keeps my tears away because April showers brings May Flowers.

©Sheilagh Lee September 7 ,2011

The Child On the Milk Carton

2011-08-31T09:38:00.000-07:00

Drag; verb: Pull (something or someone) along forcefully, roughly or with difficulty; take (someone) to or from a place or event despite their reluctance; noun: the action of pulling something forcefully or with difficulty; act of inhaling smoke; clothing more conventionally worn by the opposite sex.

Mumble; verb: Say something indistinctly and quietly, making it difficult for others to hear; noun: A quiet and indistinct utterance.

Penetrate; verb: Succeed in forcing a way in or through (a thing); infiltrate an enemy or group to spy on it; (of a man) insert the penis into the vagina or anus (of a sexual partner).

He had it coming. If you knew him you would know he had it coming. He was my father I guess on paper but I had always had a nagging feeling about him like he really didn't want me but had me only for my mother’s sake. He was abusive, dictatorial and hard to live with. Friends were out as were boys. If mother hadn't objected I wouldn't even have been getting a driver's licence.

When I asked my mother how she had met him and made me all she would do is mumble. When I tried to penetrate the layers of deceit I discovered the truth. I wasn’t my mother’s biological daughter or his either. I was a child on a milk carton. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I was eighteen and had demanded my birth certificate for the umpteenth dozen time and had been stymied with a fake one they had produced. I took that to get my beginners driver licence and the clerk at the licence place said to me...

“You are lucky I’m going on a break kid trying to fake your age with a fake id. I should call the cops, but you look like a nice kid so I’m not going to.”

“I don’t understand.” I protested

“Fake Id? Give it up kid. The gig is up, unless you want me to change my mind and drag you to the cops?” she had said

I left then I was afraid she’d call the cops. I didn’t understand what was going on. Then when I started thinking about all the times I’d look at my blue eyed blonde parents and wondered how they could have produced a brown eyed blonde I put it together. Either I was adopted or… I had been stolen.

I went home and began searched forums and missing children’s faces on the internet and that is where I found it. My picture… it was me at two years old. I was shocked no wonder my pictures had begun at two years old. I read the few details on the internet could this really be me?

Missing Cecilia Everett

Parents Louisa and Carl Everett

91cm tall weight 13kg

Last Seen in Arva, Ontario

On July 12, 1995

At Roundtree Park

I read if you have seen this child call 1-800 and some other numbers that blurred before my eyes. Where was this Arva? These people were my parents? I had been stolen? There had to be some other explanation. I decided to talk to my Father. I printed off a copy of the missing child flyer and placed it in my purse.

I went to his office on the second floor and was ushered into his office by his secretary.

“What’s up Lorie?” he demanded “Why are you here.”

“Is it true did you take me?”

What are you talking about now Lorie?” he demanded

“This !” I said throwing the flyer on his desk and watching him closely

He unwound the sheet of a paper and I watched as he turned pale and then he burnt it in front of me with a lighter he pulled from his desk drawer.

“Yes this child looks a little like you Lorie but it’s not you. You are our natural child. Haven’t we given you everything you’ve ever wanted? Put this foolishness aside. “He demanded.

“Why did you take me?” I persisted

“Stop this foolishness now.” he commanded again “What are you doing?”

“I am settling this once and for all.” I said dialling the 911

“No you are not.” He said grabbing my arm then continued pleading “Think of your mother .She doesn’t know. She thinks we adopted you.”

I have to admit I was torn for a moment I loved the woman who thought she was my mother. I hesitated and he grabbed once again for my phone.

We struggled and moved closer to the window. I fought him and we went sailing through the window falling to the ground below. As I said he had it coming. I however did not. He had taken me from my family so he deserved his death. No I didn’t die, but I was in a coma for three long months and hadn’t been able to tell anyone my discovery. My ability to speak was impaired when I awoke.

I had worked months and now I was sure I could tell them what happened. I was worried about my Mother though. She had stayed by my side through of this her love shining over me encouraging me to get better. To say I was torn was one thing. As I struggled to say the words and nothing but a mumble came out a couple entered my room. The woman stood my height and had blonde hair and brown eyes; the man was tall over six feet and had brown hair with brown eyes.

“Lorie I know what your father did now. I’m sorry he hurt you. Lorie, I didn’t know then. Oh I’m not explaining this well. I know you found what he did Cheryl your Dad’s secretary finally told me what really happened. “she paused her dabbing her eyes appealing to me.

"I hope you know, I didn’t know. I couldn’t have taken someone’s child. I thought you were my daughter and you always will but this couple are your real parents. Robert took you from them. This is your real Mother and Father, Louisa and Carl Everett. They have kindly said I could remain in your life and they wouldn’t prosecute me for your Fath ..er…my husband’s doings.”

“Cecilia my baby.” the woman said reaching for me crying.

“Mom.” I managed to croak out and am enveloped in her arms and his.

I've recovered now I can walk and talk. I live with my parents and I am learning about them as well how to love them. My mother has moved to Arva to be close to me in fact she bought a house next door. I thought they be angry at this after all she had me all these years but they are special people who love me enough to share me. They tell me that is because I am Cecilia “Lorie” Everett and they never stopped loving me even I was the child on the milk carton.

©Sheilagh Lee August 31 ,2011

Three Word Wednesday

2011-07-27T10:05:00.000-07:00

Banter; noun: the playful and friendly exchange of teasing remarks; verb: Talk or exchange remarks in a good-humored or teasing way.

Fumble; verb: Use the hands clumsily while doing or handling something; noun: An act of using the hands clusily while doing or handling something.

Glance; verb: Take a brief or hurried look; hit something at an angle and bounce off obliquely; noun: A brief or hurried look.

Sucker

It all started Monday morning and boy I hated Monday mornings. As I climbed the steps to my tiny office I could feel the waves of heat all ready seeping through my cheap suit. It was hot enough to fry an egg out there and it was only eight a.m. The door was stiff in the heat and I noted that someone had tried to break in. There were scratches by the door. Everything looked in its place. The cabinet with my files was still locked as was my desk. Obviously an attempt to break in but not a success.

I threw my hat up on the coat rack in the corner and peeled off my suit coat jacket hoping that my window fan would kick in soon. Then I took the bag I was carrying with my breakfast over to the coffee cup on the shelf. I cracked the two eggs into it and then poured orange juice over them. Oops almost forgot the chaser a little Tabasco sauce. Good for what ailed me as my head ached from the cocktails I’d imbibed last night. I then sat in my desk chair blessing the fact that I had been gifted by a client a chair with swivel and wheels. I swivelled for a bit then turned and faced my door wishing for a client to breeze in to end my boredom.
I read my etched name Jack Daniel Forbes private investigator on the door for the fifteenth time. I swiveled once again to look at it and I was surprised to find a woman standing there. And not just any woman, this woman was a knock-out. She had blonde hair in fashionable chignon. A real looker with her bright blue eyes and come hither smile, and gams that want on and on in her skirt that was split up to the knee. She had the look of that movie star you know the one I mean; Carol Lombard now she was classy not like that Mae West who you couldn’t bring home to your mother.

Except the dame was smiling she was grimacing as if to keep from crying and as she pulled out a tear stained handkerchief and walked over closer to me I could see her eyes were red and puffy as well.

“Are you Mr. Forbes?” she asked her voice musical even when trembling

“Yah I’m Jack Daniel Forbes like the sign says.” I answered intrigued by whatever she wants to tell me

“Can I trust you?” she asked

“I’m very trustworthy ma’am and unless you’ve committed a crime there are no worries on that score.” I reassured her

“I have to trust someone I’m going out of my mind.” she stated hesitating “Maybe if I knew a little bit more about you?”

“Well you know the skinny on me. My name is Jack Daniel Forbes. I was copper for ten years until the heat got a little too hot when I turned in some flatfeet for being on the take. That old blue wall went up and this detective was down for the count until I opened up my own private investigation office three years ago.”

“That’s all very interesting I suppose but I still don’t know that I should trust you if word should get back….”

“I was named after the whiskey bottle my mother finished the night I was conceived. Hey why am I telling you that? That’s a little bit too personal sorry.” I blurted out surprising myself felling that I fumbled a little there

There was something about this dame that made me want to reveal everything about myself to her.

“No I appreciate your candour. I’m not much for banter anyway. I suppose I can reveal things about myself as well. My name is Mrs. Grace-Ellen Parks and someone is trying to kill me.” she blurted out and then begins sobbing all over the place.

Now am I sucker when a women cries. I can’t stand the wallowing. It does something to me. All I want to do was take her in my arms but she said she was a Mrs., and I respect the bonds of matrimony. So I just patted her arm saying there, there and handed her the handkerchief out of my suit coat jacket.

“You are a gentleman, aren’t you?” she said glancing at me in surprise and wiping her eyes gently patting them

“I try ma’am. “I replied

“My husband is trying to kill me.” she stated in a stage whisper as if she was afraid to say it

“No you have to be mistaken.” I replied

“I am not mistaken. Maybe you weren’t the right man for the job after all.” She states rising in a graceful way.

“No wait Mrs. Grace-Ellen Parks if your ball and chain really is trying to do away with you then you need someone like me to prevent it.”

“I don’t know what to do what if I’m wrong? I wouldn’t want it getting back to my ex-husband.” She retorted

“Ex but you just said he was your husband.” I protested

“A slip of the tongue, he divorced me a few months ago but my Daddy, Judge Banks got me alimony. I’m not poor I can pay your fee.” She explains

“Oh so that’s it your ex wants to do. He wants to rid himself of you to stop letting out his pockets.” I exclaimed

“Do you think that’s it?” She asked excited

“Yes.” I replied proudly

“Come to my house at six p.m. so we can plan some more. Here’s the address. Don’t be late.” She demanded “Good-bye.”

At five twenty five I went to my desk drawer to get my gun a Remington .41 calibre Double Derringer. It was my only purchase when becoming a private detective. I had my throw away strapped to my ankle calf but this baby was my pride in joy. It would certainly defend the dame from her murderous ex. I turned the key and to my surprise no gun. Damn someone had gotten in here after all and they had my gun. I would have to report it missing later to some of my buddies I still had left on the force. I was going to be late if I didn’t hurry. Thank goodness I had my trusty back-up.

I arrived at the address a few minutes before six p.m. to see the door a jar. Had he gotten in ahead of me? I bounded up the stairs to hear a gunshot. Was I too late? I ran into the house hoping to find her and save her. I heard yet another gunshot coming from the upstairs bedroom. I bounded up the stairs opened the door to find her holding the gun over a man bloodied on the floor. He had a huge wound in his chest which he was bleeding heavily from. She had shot him straight through the forehead the second time. That was not a pretty picture as the blow back was disgusting to say the least. She stood frozen as if in shock and then the shivering began. I went to the bedroom next door and grabbed a blanket throwing it around her shoulders.

“He was trying to kill me. I shot him.” she croaked

“Yes you shot him with my gun that you took.” I complain loudly

“I had to I was so scared.” she answered tears pooling in her eyes again

I took her in my arms and comforted her only to have her push me into the bedroom next door. There I let matters get out of hand and the next thing I know the cops are breaking in guns a blaze to find us in flagrante delicto. She’s crying rape and saying I killed her husband.

We were both arrested her sticking to her story that I killed her husband and was in the process of raping her. (Yes he was her husband not her ex as she claimed.) She claimed I was stalking her and her husband had spoken to me and then I had plotted to kill him.

It seemed I was in a fix. I was in jail nearly a week before the key to breaking her story came out. You see I didn’t keep the bullets with the gun so she had to buy bullets. My buddy on the force Pat O’Malley tracked down the gun shop Grace-Ellen bought the bullets at and that’s where her story unravelled. Seems she had been plotting all this for awhile and I was just the patsy she picked.

Mrs.Grace-Ellen Parks had done this before in three different states each time picking out a patsy for the fall guy. She was a black widow getting rich of the proceeds of each of her husbands’ demise. One of those men she had conned had been hung for her crime; the other two were awaiting their execution in the electric chair.

Grace-Ellen wasn’t even her real name. Her name was really Eunice Perkins from Arley Alabama. Seems they wanted her there too she’d killed her whole family there and took every penny they had.

As for me I’m very grateful to Pat O’Malley for saving my bacon. We started seeing each other quite a bit. What can I say I’m a sucker for tears and when she cried because I was free I saw Pat in a new light. She wasn’t just a police administrator I could banter with, she was a woman and a darn good investigator. She was the one that tracked down all the information on that woman. She didn’t even throw my fumble in my face and when I glanced at her I saw true beauty. They’ll be no more women tricking this P.I. I’ve got a partner now and the name on the door is Jack and Pat Forbes Private Investigators.

Three Word Wednesday

2011-07-13T07:14:00.000-07:00

Three Word Wednesday

Indecision; noun: the inability to make a decision quickly.

Option; noun: A thing that is or can be chosen; the freedom, power, or right to choose something; verb: buy or sell an option on (something).

Fate; noun: The development of events beyond a person’s control, regarded as determined by a supernatural power; the course of someone’s life, or the outcome of a particular situation for someone or something, seen as beyond their control; verb: Be destined to happen, turn out, or act in a particular way.

The Road Not Taken

I don’t know how I got in this situation. Such indecision on how I got here. I guess it was fate. Well I guess that’s a lie this morning started out so simply just like every other morning on my honeymoon. But I’m getting ahead of myself here.

I’m a newlywed fifty-two years old and I was sure I’d found my soul mate. So two days ago we were married.

My husband Brad said he had a surprise for me. He’d made plans for our honeymoon. I was so pleased I thought I would have to pay for the honeymoon since I was the one with all the money. Brad told me it was surprise and wouldn’t even say where we were going until we got her to Kaiten’s Bluff. It’s a remote area way up north. I was surprised all right. I hate the great outdoors and would have liked the option to not partake in them. However when I thought about I was sure Brad had done this so we could be alone without the press following our every move. That’s what happens when you are a wealthy socialite; they follow you around looking for the money shot.

Brad tenderly made love to me not once but three times this morning and then stated that after breakfast he’d like to explore the area. I dithered and complained I didn’t have any hiking clothes or boots and Brad gave me another surprise. You guessed it hiking attire. Well since marriage is a two way street I consented thinking maybe hiking wouldn’t be so bad I had the right clothes now after all.

After a big breakfast served at our lovely bed and breakfast we started the hike. There were trees everywhere and I asked Brad if he was sure he could find his way back. He then told me to watch as he marked the trees with a florescent marker. Finally after an hour’s trike we reached Kaiten’s bluff. It was glorious there although I didn’t want to get close to the edge with my fear of heights. Brad took me in his arms. He tried to coax me to the edge.

“You’re missing the best part. Look at that blue sky and those bluffs and if you look way down you can see the stream. See.” he concluded turning my head so I had to look down

As I looked down I had to admit it was a lovely sight just as I felt Brad’s arms pull back and push me over the edge of the bluff. I grab out trying to save myself and manage to grab Brad’s leg. We both go tumbling over the edge. I lose my grip on Brad and he falls to the stream one hundred feet below. I however manage to grab alone tree that is jutting out of the cliff and with strength I didn’t know I possessed I pull myself up almost to the top to a ledge there.

So here I sit waiting to be rescued two days later. Was Brad trying to kill me? If he was then he’s done a good job without telling anyone where we were going I’m a sitting duck here waiting for starvation or thirst to kill me.

I hear a noise a rumble of rocks above as they peter down on my head.

“Mary Hatch-Potter? Are you there? I hear “I shout back “Here, Here.”

I am recued as the person pulls me up with his rope to safety. I look over and can’t believe my eyes. It’s someone I haven’t seen in thirty four years. My high school boyfriend.

“Why George Bailey. I haven’t seen you since high school what are you doing here?”

“At the moment rescuing you.” George laughs “I’m sorry Mary but we found your husband Brad dead yesterday. He must have fallen off trying to help you.”

“He tried to kill me.” I tell George bluntly

““You married Potter’s son. I thought Potter was rich and left it all to him when he died last year.”

“Henry Potter had some money but Brad squandered it all. Brad claimed his father was in debt at his death risky ventures. Somehow now I don’t believe that.” I reply annoyed

"So Brad married you for your money I suppose. That’s why we broke up high school I never wanted you to believe I only wanted you for your money.” George states “I always thought we were soulmates, but you just got married to Brad Potter, obviously you weren’t pining for me.”

“Oh George you foolish man you threw away thirty four years we could have been together.” I scold “George Bailey admit it you were a fool. I married Brad because he was young and he reminded me of you but obviously that was only skin deep.”

George takes me in his arms and hugs me tight.

“Mary Hatch I love you.” George replies “You are my moon and stars.”

“George lassos the moon.” I concede as his kiss then deepens muffling my speech.

All this happened two days ago. I should have taken this road years ago. Here I am a newlywed again; married to my soul mate George Bailey what a great situation to be in.

©Sheilagh Lee July 13 ,2011

A Thief in the Night

2011-07-10T19:19:00.000-07:00

A Thief in the Night

I awoke with a start as its dark shadow hovered directly above me. It came like a thief in the night as its tendrils; long bony fingers grasped my neck and tried to choke off my air. I gasped, sputtering as its grip grew tighter. I tried to fight back but lay frozen on the bed. As my eyes opened and took in the sight I saw her. She was a hideous old hag; her wild red blood shot eyes starred at me intently as her long gray hair dangled down over my bed. As her mouth opened, in one smooth movement she sucked and seized the breath that was mine. She propelled herself ungainly face first into me. As my body absorbed her, I screamed, I shouted -- to no avail. She found her place in me and she was staying. She managed to change my appearance to hers. I scream and arms pin me down tying me to my bed.

“The mirror isn’t supposed to be there. It’s the Alzheimer's. In her mind she’s only twenty-five.” says the woman to other woman dressed in the odd polyester pant suit

“Should we alert the doctor?” asks the other woman

“No she’ll soon go back to thinking she’s twenty-five years old again and be happy,” the other woman answers.

I am at peace she’s left my body. I’m young again.

The Mouse Turns

2011-07-06T23:05:00.000-07:00

The man had to die he simply had to die. If good people were to survive I needed to put an end to his onslaught of slings and arrows, his constant mistreatment of his employees. The women he came in contact with and discarded. All condemned him to his fate. I was a quiet sort seeking the shadows but even the mouse turns when mistreated. And oh how he’d mistreated me. It was too much to bear.

He simply had to go. For all concerned he was a monster of epic proportions. Look how he treated the servant girl that tended to him in his bath. She was all of thirteen years old and he had pulled her in his bath. It was like she was a plaything simply there for his use. Then when she turned up pregnant he denied it all. He called that sweet young girl a slut, and had her dismissed thrown out of the house five months gone.

He treated the cook and the housekeeper like they were his Wives and me who to my misfortune was his wife he treated me like the scuttle maid. How had I Harriet Tuttle Pembrooke, been foolish enough to marry such a man? Who beat me, mistreated me, and took his fill against my will in the marriage bed? Even now I sported a bruise over my eye and purple bruises beneath my dress on my chest, my stomach and my thighs. How had I come to this you ask, a rich single heiress once?

My parents had died and I had been entrusted to an elderly relative who by all accounts just wanted to get rid of me. They sold me to the highest bidder him Lawrence Pembrooke. I had been a mere fourteen years old and knew no man. I was an innocent given to a savage who took me violently our wedding night and then dismissed me as nonresponsive and too passive. He took my money and my nature that night. No longer the happy young woman full of life, I was a shadow hiding my presence hoping he wouldn’t see me and beat me hurt me again.

Five long years of being shut in rooms held prisoner unable to leave the home as he used other women he brought to our home. I also was hungry; I was so hungry as my jailers kept me with little food. Sometimes when they were generous I got gruel most days though I got bread and water. My jailers as I like to call them the cook Mrs. Adelaide Pym and the housekeeper Mrs. Gumm claimed they were widows but they loved to warm his bed. I didn’t even quibble about who shared his bed as long as they both had a chance to. Once they had bragged they had both graced his bed at the same time. I had thought they were welcome too him if he was busy with them perhaps he would forget me. I was wrong. He was insatiable he just took and took like a greedy pig at the trough.

I’d had enough a week ago he had come home in a rage and beaten me unconscious with Mrs. Pym’s and Mrs. Gumm’s help as they held me in place. As I took blow after blow they smiled in malicious glee. I collapsed finally lying on the bed and passing out. I awoke alone naked and bleeding as I gave birth to my stillborn daughter that he had thrust from my body. My daughter born beautiful and tiny, her rosebud lips never to breathe air. She was not left in the womb long enough to survive, with me being only six months gone.

Lawrence had come stumbling back into the room a drunken lout. He stared at her body my Rosalie’s body and then had said:

“I did you a great favour. Daughters are nothing but trouble and I would have had to drowned or give her away. We need an heir and a spare not a girl. Clean yourself up woman. You are dirty.”

He sent the jailers, his co-conspirators in the room to clean me up and they took my Rosalie away. Where I do not know for I am still jailed in my room, brought out only like a pretty toy for parties. Whether she was buried I know not. I was let out of my room today, only a week later for a party. A party that would be this evening, as his wife I was nothing but his chattel no one would help me champion me. If he were to be gone I would have to do it myself in such away no one would suspect me but how?

Poison but where would I find poison for a rat. For that is what he was a rat of epic proportions. He would battened and slimed his way through life, destroying life even his own child but those women were also to blame. The rage in me for Rosalie’s demise burnt bright and strong and revenge was the only word on my brain.

The kitchen….I would wear my kid gloves and sneak into the kitchen and find the rat poisoning that Mrs. Pym kept there. If she was blamed no matter she and her cohort Mrs. Gumm were as evil as he was. I succeed in my quest a small amount of poison in my gloves waiting for my chance.

I am dressed all in finery hooped skirt lovely green velvet dress and jewels around my neck, diamonds my mother’s diamonds adorn my neck. I work as if asleep with no emotions. I pretend… I smile like a doll that all is right with the world. Mrs. Johnson nods to me. I nod back she’s married to his clerk and I must be civil at all costs. I continue mingling he is nearby ever watching. I nod to other women and be oh so polite doing the job he expects. I wait until Mrs. Pym brings in the drinks and bump the table. I bump up against the table unseen and drop the poison in the biggest cup awaiting there that Mrs. Pym has placed on the table.

He bids me to him he goes to the table and I wait allowing fate to choose his destiny. He picks the biggest cup like I knew he would. He drinks deeply. I hide a smile. He continues gorging on food and drink. He has chosen his fate I’ve only to wait.

He continues to preen and pimp among the peoples assembled. Hours pass and I see him holding his stomach and complain about gas. He passes the hour’s playing cards and winning from the man assembled by telling me to go to bed. I am dutiful am I not the dutiful wife? I do as I am bid and away to bed. I hear the lock click on the bedroom door. I have my alibi as Mrs. Johnson watches and notes this misuse.

I sleep and awake to my door being opened by Mrs. Gumm.

“The policeman wants you.” She says showing him behind her body

“Give me a moment to make myself correct.” I state as I shut the door and dress quickly and demurely in grey clothes then coming out of the room.

“Mrs. Lawrence Pembrooke? Asks the policeman tentatively

“Yes sir.” I reply meekly and demurely looking downward

“Someone has done in your husband. Have you knowledge of this?” The policeman blurts out

I pale and appear to look stressed and frail.

“Have you lost your head Evans I said I would interview the Mrs” retorts another policeman at the bottom of the stairs angrily

“So have you been shut in your room Mrs since last night?” The policeman who was reprimanded asks

“My husband is dead? Oh no tell me it is not so.” I wail and then faint.

As I come out of my pretend faint the policeman helps down the stairs and to a chair.

“So you’ve been in that room since last night?” asks the lead detective

“Yes sir like a dutiful wife I go to my room and my husband locks me in to protect me.” I state with doe like eyes then I cry

“But who was there to protect him from whatever evil took him away from me last night?”

“It’s all right Mrs. We think we have the culprit. Were you aware that your husband was having relations with your cook Mrs. Pym and this woman here Mrs. Gumm?”Asks the lead detective

“I know nothing of that sir. My husband is really dead? You’ve made a mistake correct?” I ask sounding sad but hopefully that they are wrong

“I am afraid we haven’t Mrs. He’s dead.” Says the policeman

“He was having relationships with those two the staff has confirmed it. They also say that you had a baby a week ago born dead.” the lead detective says

I did indeed my poor daughter was born still and I was very sad.” I respond.

“These two were responsible for keeping you locked in that room. They took your baby as well and buried her.”

“They only did as my good husband bade. My job as my husband’s wife is to keep him happy have I failed in that duty?” I ask demurely and with great horror

“You were put upon you poor woman.” says the patrolman convinced of my act

“What were you doing last night?” asks the other man, the lead detective

“Last night? I was my husband’s hostess as we gave a party for his associates in business.” I reply truthfully

“And did you have an occasion to serve your husband drink?” Asks the man

“I did not serve him he bade me circulate the room and play hostess as he got his own food and drink.” I answer

“Then her guilt is clear Mrs. Pym served the drink that poisoned your husband we found the dregs of poison in his cup and you Mrs. Gumm you helped her did you not?” The lead detective says to men

“You are saying the servants killed my husband but why? Why would Mrs. Gumm and Mrs. Pym do such a thing?” I ask with tears in my eyes

“Mistress they wanted the master. I saw them fawning on him as they locked you in your bedroom. When they summoned me and bade me get drink two nights ago they were naked in his bed.” My husband’s manservant says to me

I feign shock and disgust and look on with the anger I feel for them killing my Rosalie. The lead detective seems convinced and takes away Mrs. Pym and Mrs. Gumm to Newgate prison.

The trial takes place a month ago many of the other servants testify of their long term relationship with my husband. There is testimony of an argument that took place outside his bedroom two nights before the murder and their fate is sealed they are condemned to swing by the rope.

For a moment I feel guilt and then I feel that it is their just reward for killing my Rosalie. Two months have passed since the trial and yesterday the hanging took place. I move away to the countryside to live quietly. No man shall possess me or dominate me ever again I have my money and my freedom. And my tormentors and Rosalie killers have met their just fate. I live my life no guilt shall engulf me. I am free happy at last.

Spectator

2011-07-06T15:55:00.000-07:00

I look around me shaken had I really survived a fall from a building so high up? I look around and spot a crowd. Where are the news crews? I'll see them soon after all I have survived a fall from twenty storeys and when I look at myself not a scratch is present. No broken bones at all. I feel euphoric. I was on track for promotion and with the right lawyer I could make him pay.After all the company was responsible for my suffering too.They would pay for what I lived through.Then I look around the crowd is getting bigger and they are staring at the ground not me where I stand. What's wrong with them? Did someone else get pushed from that ledge? Had I grasped the man who pushed me hand too tightly and pulled him with me? Now that would be justice, he tried to kill me after all.

The day had started out so well a new job, a promotion. I thought that Billy was leaving his wife for me. He said he said something to tell me to meet him on the roof after work. I like the fool I am,I had done just that. When I reached the roof Billy told me that it was over. That I would never marry him. He wanted me to leave the firm; in fact the promotion I had gotten this morning had been rescinded. Tomorrow I would be let go all because he wanted it.

I threatened him with the employment standards board and he laughed at me. I told him I would sue him for wrongful termination and sexual harassment.He laughed again and then he grew angry. I ranted that I would also make everything clear to both the partners and his wife. Next thing I knew he was shaking me and throwing me from the roof. But I had had the last laugh I survived. I was alive and maybe just maybe he was the one dead on the pavement that they were all staring at .

I inched towards the crowd pushing my way through. I stare down and see something that can't be. I have no job no hope no salvation. It’s truly over. There is no hustle no bustle. No track to get back on. No lover to leave his wife. I had my time in the sun the corporate world at my feet. The hurt that I felt at his cruelty was a memory, time had passed and left me behind while I stood there staring.

The light beckons its hand outstretched to me and I realize I am a spectre no more of this world. I am the one lying dead there on the pavement. I stare intently as I recognize my battered self. Come says the voice in the light beckoning once more. I look back once more at what was my life and then I step into my new reality in the light and am known no more.

Hello and Welcome to Dead Write

2011-07-06T15:47:00.000-07:00

This is my blog to promote my murder mysteries. I will post mystery short stories here and excerpts from my book(s)