Monday, August 12, 2013

Beach Tale: "When We Were Middle Aged and Foolish", Sixth Installment


        This is the sixth installment of my serialized short mystery, “When We Were Middle Aged and Foolish.”  A new chapter will be posted every Monday for the next two weeks.  If you missed the first installments, click here to be taken to the page of what’s been posted so far.
          For those of you returning, a quick reminder when last we left our middle-aged amateur sleuths, their plan to frame Monica Lyn’s soon-to-be ex-husband for murder was playing out as expected.  Or was it?

When We Were Middle Aged and Foolish
Installment Six of Eight

          “Damn Luminal,” Monica Lyn said as she slammed her cell phone on the kitchen counter the next afternoon.
          “What’s that?” I asked while spreading strawberry preserves on my wheat toast. We’d been up for hours, but I was just getting around to breakfasting.
          “It’s a chemical agent that detects the presence of human blood. Even if the item has been washed, traces of iron remain and cast off a blue light when Luminal is sprayed on it.”
          “So?” I slipped along the bench seat the table, my mouth watering at the idea of tasting the homemade strawberry preserves. Monica Lyn’s mother’s preserves were the best on the planet, and I hadn’t had any in years.

         “So, no big surprise, there was no trace of blood on the hacksaw we buried in J.J.’s yard. Which means they can’t tie J.J. to Kitty’s murder. Which means he didn’t even get hauled in for questioning. This also puts us back at the top of the list of suspects.”
          “Not us. You.”
          “You helped steal the trashcan and move the body.”
          I pushed my toast away and wondered how much jail time that might earn me.
          “You heard him confess. He killed her, I know it. Sure as I know my own name. Which means the murder weapon is somewhere in that house. It’s up to us to find it.”
          “How?” I don’t know why I asked that, because I really didn’t want to know the answer.
          “I have a plan,” Monica Lyn said. “Come on, best friend. Let’s go.”

          Really, what choice did I have? 
* * *
<<Uh-oh...Monica Lyn has another plan! Be sure and check back next Monday to see what kind of trouble our middle-aged amateur sleuths get into next!)

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