A Peek at an Antique Murder Mystery in progress

Here’s a peek at a bit of chapter one of a Antique Murder Mystery I’ve had on the back burner for a while, I might just serialize it here… Enjoy.

“Picker Fred lived a lot closer to town than I did, twenty years ago his place was well off the beaten path, but now the suburbia was creeping ever closer to his ramshackle farm with it’s outbuildings jammed with Junk and Antiques . There had been a lot of pressure on him from council to sell out to developers, he told them all politely to kiss his ass and had applied for Heritage site status for the farm. The property was ringed on all sides by a thick wild growth of lilacs with a winding pot-holed drive up the middle,some ¼ mile long. As I turned up the drive I noticed his papers were still laying by the mail box, which was unusual as Fred was an early riser, read all his papers and drank 4 cups of industrial strength coffee all before most people had had their morning pee.

Most people sense danger long before it hits them, they just try to ignore that primitive part of the brain that reads the signals, like the signals mine was sending me now . Anyone who has been in life threatening situations and survives is changed forever, some live in constant fear, others always on the offensive and some like me, feel danger like cats & dogs feel an earthquake coming and leave town. Every time the hair stands up on the back of my neck and my stomach knots  I hope I’m wrong, but I seldom am, the way I felt right now I’d bet all of the $22.85 I had in my pocket that all of Fred’s 10 or so cats were long gone. I was wrong at least about one cat, Fred’s old mutant Tom,  a bobcat /Siamese cross with seven toes on each foot, it glared at me  from on top of Fred’s unmoving chest, ears back daring me to approach.  I didn’t want or need to, Fred’s unseeing eyes stared up at the sky and his forehead was stove in, my stomach that had survived all previous insults heaved my breakfast into the lilacs.

After the initials shock and the shaking stopped I stood up and looked around, the blood had not yet begun to congeal nor were any flies around. From what I knew from years of TV crime drama’s it meant Fred had not been dead very long, who ever did this must have left not a half hour before I got there. I tried to think if I had passed anyone on the road driving up, and recalled no one coming south. I spotted a small piece of metal on the ground off to the side of the driveway and absentmindedly put it in my pocket. “Ah shit, god dammit Fred” I thought and dialed 911.

 

 

 

Mike Wilcox

Antique-Appraise.com