Short Stories

The big pay back

 

Detective Mici woke from a deep sleep he thought he heard a noise. He reached for his gun; and left the bedroom slowly making his way down the dark hallway. He walked down the stairs keeping his back against the wall, entering the living room, the light from the street shone inside the room. Mici saw the shadow of a person holding a bloody knife standing over a body. When the person heard the clink of the gun, he quickly escaped through the broken glass door dropping the knife. Detective Mici waited a few minutes; he walked over to the window, surveying the area, there was silence. He knew not to touch the evidence, searching for the phone, he called his old precinct.

“Hello, 29th precinct SGT. Moore, what is your emergency?”

“This is Detective Mici, I have a situation at my house that requires police assistance.”

“Are you injured?”

“No.”

“Can you give me a description of the situation?”

“Yes, there is a dead body in my living room.”

The officer dispatched all units in the area; within minutes Det. Mici’s house is surrounded by police activity. Among the officers is his old friend Chief Jefferson. Walking through the house and he Det. Mici siting in the living room being questioned by an officer. The Chief interrupts the interview,

“Thank You officer I will take it from here.” Chief Jefferson sits next to Det. Mici, He whispers, “How should we handle this situation?”

“By the book old.”

“Ok. I’ll leave you alone with your thoughts; this is going to make a hella story.” Chief Jefferson said.

Det. Mici flashbacked to the previous night, He remembers staring at the bottom of a bourbon bottle after gulping the last drop. A voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Det. Mici, I was told to escort you to the station.”

Looking up at the officer he said, “I understand.”

Chief Jefferson awaits Det. Mici at the precinct. As they walked through the precinct, the Chief announced….

“This is Det. Mici, he is one of our top veterans.”

“He is a suspect shouted one of the officers.”

Chief Jefferson replies in a threatening tone. “How would you like traffic duty for the next six months’ officer?”

The officer exited the precinct…

“Let’s go to my office.”

“I’ve been reviewing your cases; you have some unhappy people who could be out for revenge.”

Det. Mici paced the room “I have turned this situation over and over in my mind, nothing make sense.”

“Take a seat, I’ll call the Medical Examiner maybe she has made an I.D of the body.”

While the chief dialed the number, Det. Mici, recognized a of Scotch on the desk.

Ring…Ring…Ring

“Hello.”

“‘This is Chief Jefferson, from 29th precinct calling to get an Identification of the body found earlier at Det. Mici’s house.”

“Can I put you on hold for a moment I need to check the logs?”

Moments Passed……

“Hello Chief, you said the body came In from Det. Mici’s house?”

“Yes.”

“We haven’t received a body from that location.”

“Can you look again?”

“Chief, I’ve been working since 5:00 AM, and based on our logs we haven’t received a body.’’

Stunned by the M.E.’s reply the Chief opened the bottle of Scotch. He poured two drinks.

“You might want to drink this.”

Det. Mici looked at the Chief, “I’ve seen that look before.”

“The body has been misplaced.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The M.E. says they don’t have the body.”

“We have a report, there is the knife. What about the finger prints?”

“The only prints on the knife are yours”

“How? I never touched the knife.”

“Don’t know; let’s take a ride back to your house.”

They left the precinct through the back door. During the drive, they did not speak; arriving they walked around the outside of the house. The glass door was repaired. They slowly entered the house. Using their flashlights, looking around, there is no sign of evidence of a crime.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Someone doesn’t want this case to be solved.”

Suddenly, the house lights came on. There is laughter throughout the house.

“Come out fellas” announced the Chief.

“What the hell is going on Chief?”

The chief burst out laughing “all these years I’ve waited to get back at you for bringing that stripper to my bachelor’s party.”

 

THE END

Short Stories

Family Roots

Dear Readers,

The late Reverend Joseph N. Floyd SR was a stone cold to the bone country boy, born off the shores of South Georgia. He is the offspring of a Cherokee mother and he described his father as a big red skin man. His height can be match to that of Mount Kilimanjaro, with a deep thunderous voice, and soft wide light green emeralds eyes. Catherine Barbara Floyd is a humble, beautiful Southern Belle, born in the Hills of Charlotte South Carolina. The union between them lasted 32 years and produced twelve children. They first crossed paths on the narrow back road of Lyons GA. My mother was visiting family in Vidalia Georgia; and at night, she and the other youngsters would sneak out when the adults were sleeping. On one such night, she found herself in the bushes at a shack called the “Jook Joint” where Joseph was the bartender. When I eighteen my father told me the story of how he felt when he saw my mother, he said, “when she walked in all eyes were on her because she was the most beautiful, long-legged, big hip gal he’d seen in them parts.” My mother’s account of the meeting was different she said that she thought that my father was “the dumbest, fouled mouth, red face creature she has ever met.” Later, she confessed that it was one of those love at first sight encounters, but it was a matter of not letting him know. They had a shotgun wedding because back in those days the rules of courtship were different from today, if a boy got the girl in the family way, they had to get married. Soon after their wedding, he enlisted in the army. In 1967, stationed at Fort Hamilton Army base in New York City, my father persuaded his beautiful and shy country bride to relocate from the country to the city.

After 32 years of marriage 12 children, 25 grandchildren, and 10 great grandchildren, dad was laid to rest. My parents battled through some bad storms, but they stayed together, their love and strength kept the family strong. My mother said that my father was her best friend. I admired how my mother was able to take care of her children, a husband, and all the family pets, as well as having a well-polished home, and still managed to find time to care for herself. There is no other woman in the world like her. She said looking back if she had to do it all over again, she would not change one aspect of her life.

 

Drama

An Ode to Nephew

Dear Readers,

Wednesday October 4, 2017, I was sitting in my bedroom pouring my soul into my journal, ranting about how humanity has left me feeling abandon, unloved and an outcast, in a society where people prefer to engage in a relationship with their technical devices, instead of connecting with people. At 11:35pm, my mobile phone rings, I saw my youngest sisters’ name on the screen, I said “shit” took a deep breath and answered.

“sis.”

“Yes.”

“sis, what’s wrong?”

“Donavan committed suicide.”

Silence. Time Stopped.

My handsome 22-year-old nephew, a recent college graduate, received a new car from his proud father, and on his way to a career in law enforcement. A young man with a spotless record, choir member and church usher; felt that he no longer wanted to live. Days after this tragic event people are asking why? If I had the answer would that knowledge bring him back?

We live in a society where there is an increasing number of teens and young adults committing suicide, and the only question people are asking is why? My family has been devastated by such a sudden and violent death. When the family gathers we don’t talk much, we stare into space and go through the motions of planning his final service.

His mother, my sister asked me to write something nice for his obituary. After many tears soaked pages, I finally wrote these words.

Yesterday, the sky was a blazed with stars so bright they lead me home.

Yesterday, I saw your smiling face, happy with hope, faith, and peace.

Today, the Sun shined radiantly I saw your smile in the warmth of the rays.

Tonight, no stars, and the smiling, peaceful, hopeful, faithful face is no more.

The Sun has gone down. In his rest my beloved nephew struggles no more against the trails of life, loveless days, and the pain that he was unable to express. Yesterday, silence. Today there is Peace.