Murder In a Blizzard , livre ebook

eBookIt.com - Michael Lorinser

Découvre YouScribe en t'inscrivant gratuitement

Je m'inscris

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

95 pages

English

Vous pourrez modifier la taille du texte de cet ouvrage

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

A propos
Informations
Extrait

Description

From the author of The Last Trip of the Magi, comes a perplexing mystery featuring colorful and unusual characters trapped in a maze of surprises and dead ends. Woe unto those who do not heed my warning. The newscaster prepares his viewers for the ferocious blizzard surging toward them. Most listen. A few do not. Only daredevils, fools, and the nave come out in weather like this. The restaurant manager describes the fourteen unwary travelers forced to seek overnight refuge in his establishment. He will soon add murderers to his list.Someone call 9-1-1. Please. Call 9-1-1. The young lady pleads for help after stumbling over the body of the secretive loner who had been spying on the restaurants guests.Oh, how I hate this job. The aging deputy battles through the blizzard to his first homicide scene ever. His inexperience with major crimes is only one of the reasons he cant curb the violence or identify the culprit.We are being held hostage by the blizzard and a murderer. The frustrations of the patrons and staff of the restaurant boil over. Fear and tension build. Tempers flare. Rumors spread. Suspicion shifts from person to person.All is not going to end well. A stranded woman makes an ominous prediction. She is right. All does not end well.

Informations

Publié par	eBookIt.com
Date de parution	11 novembre 2015
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781456625832
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0248€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Murder In a Blizzard

by
Michael Lorinser

Copyright 2015 Michael Lorinser,
All rights reserved.

Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com
http://www.eBookIt.com

ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-2583-2

This book is a work of fiction. All characters, places and incidents are fictional and are not intended to resemble actual persons, business establishments or localities.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

To My Wife Karen,
For Her Continued Support and Understanding

And to All My Family and Friends
For Encouraging and Motivating Me
Murder in a Blizzard

Joey Norton charged into the newsroom. “Sorry I’m late. My car battery died overnight, and I had to wake up my neighbor to give me a ride to the auto supply store for a new one.”
“Wouldn’t be the first Saturday I’ve done the noon news without a producer,” Austin said without looking up from his computer.
“I know. I know. Just another reason why they call you Awesome.”
His fans had dubbed him Awesome Austin several years earlier, but the TV station did not change the name of his weekend reports to The Awesome Austin News until sixteen months ago. His unique ability to incorporate humor and personal insights into his broadcasts earned him a throng of loyal followers, numerous regional and national awards, and several job offers.
“The weekend is going to be a doozy,” Austin said. “ Last week we had our first January snow melt in over two decades and now we get this. Gets worse and worse with each alert.”
“Each? How many have there been? I only heard the blizzard warning from the Weather Bureau.”
“That was the first one. Strong winds and lots of snow coming into Minnesota from the Dakotas, starting this afternoon and lasting most of the day tomorrow. The second one came in an hour ago from the Minnesota Department of Transportation. They are advising no travel throughout most of the state until Monday morning. If driving conditions get too bad due to the weather, MnDot will close some of the major highways.”
“The forecast I heard was for feet, not inches, of snow, with winds gusting over forty miles-per-hour. Not many roads in Minnesota will be open if that happens.”
“And roads won’t be the only problem. Another warning came in within the last few minutes. This one from the Minnesota Communications Administration.”
“That’s a first,” Norton said. “Let me read it.”
The MCA is issuing a communications advisory for the northern two-thirds of the state beginning immediately. The severe weather and powerful winds forecasted for the area may cause local or widespread interruptions of most forms of communication. Outages may be intermittent or lengthy, depending on satellite reception and damage to lines and equipment. Service for landlines, cell phones, radios, televisions, and the Internet could be impacted.
“Guess you and I won’t have to argue about what the lead story will be for your newscasts this weekend.”
“You provide me with good film footage, even if it’s from our files of other blizzards, and I’ll do the rest. I’ll emphasize the alerts and scare everyone into staying off the streets.”
“And give the viewers some of your famous Awesome Austin pearls of wisdom.”
“You betcha. I already have the first one.”
“Lay it on me, bro.”
“Woe unto those who do not heed my warnings.”
*****
Every April she ordered three new custom-made t-shirts. The colors varied, but the message printed in bold letters never changed. I Don’t Judge People . The tradition sprung from her great awakening, a term she used to describe the month long period of soul searching that occurred two years after her divorce. The shirts were intended to remind her of the vow she had made to change her life for the better. She wore an I Don’t Judge People t-shirt at least once a week during the summer months and occasionally under a sweatshirt in the winter.
For years Margarita believed she had been true to that vow. Sometimes she jokingly bragged about being the most nonjudgmental person in Minnesota, if not the entire United States. The fifty-something restaurant employee, who preferred to be called a waitress rather than a server, was not even troubled by the funky couple forced by the storm to spend the night dozing in booth number eight. The male’s spiked hair, studded leather vest, and metal belt buckle the size of a DVD did not faze her. Neither did the female’s silver lip ring, pink accented hair, and clothes in a kaleidoscope of clashing colors.
Now, as the paralyzing blizzard spilled into its second day, something was eating at her. No, not something. Someone. To her dismay, Margarita sensed the self-proclaimed most nonjudgmental person in Minnesota was on the verge of reverting to her old habit.
The uneasiness had begun the previous evening when a girl staggered into the restaurant toting a sleeping toddler. The girl in her late teens had to be, at least in Margarita’s opinion, way too inexperienced to be driving in such wicked weather. Hadn’t she heard the warnings to stay off the roads? She was lucky to have made it as far as she did without killing herself and the child.
Throughout the night Margarita could not resist the temptation to spy on the woman and the young boy who was with her. The nerves of all the motorists stranded over Saturday night at the truck stop’s restaurant were on edge, but this woman appeared much more anxious than the others, frequently looking around the room as though searching for someone she needed to avoid. She had to be afraid of something. The behavior continued into Sunday morning.
A glint of a smile crossed the mysterious lady’s face when Margarita appeared with an unordered platter of pancakes and sausage for breakfast. She asked the waitress about the weather report and the driving conditions. The response caused her to melt in dejection. Snowplows were pulled off the roads until after the storm. Most streets would soon be impassable, if they weren’t already. MnDOT closed Highway 94 between Saint Cloud and Moorhead early in the morning. All major entrances to the thoroughfare were barricaded. As a result of the closing, no one would be able to leave the restaurant for several hours, and maybe not until the following day.
“We are all being held hostage by the blizzard,” Margarita said.
“In that case, I better do something to keep my son entertained before he drives everybody crazy.”
“Hasn’t he been good so far?”
“Mainly because he’s been asleep most of the time. I don’t want to stretch my luck. Do you mind keeping an eye on him while I fight my way to the car for a few of his toys and books?”
“Not at all.” Margarita peered down at the boy sitting on a booster chair scribbling with crayons on the back of a paper placemat. “It’s not like this place is full of customers demanding attention.”
“Thanks. I don’t want to struggle putting him into his snowsuit just to go to the car.”
The boy did not notice his mother slip away.
“It will only be a couple of minutes,” she promised, her words muffled by the burst of wind crashing into the dining area as she opened the door leading to the parking area.
“Close that darn door,” a male voice rumbled from a hidden corner of the restaurant, causing the woman to hasten her foray into the frigid whiteness.
“My name is Margarita.” The waitress stooped low enough to be eye level with the boy. “What’s yours?”
“Josh.”
“That’s a nice name.”
“Do you know how to spell Josh?”
“No, I don’t.”
“J-O-S-H.”
“You’re a good speller, Josh. “How old are you?”
The boy raised four fingers on his right hand and used the pointer finger of the other hand to count them. “One, two, three, four.”
“Are you really four?”
“Yes.” He proved it by repeating the finger counting process.
Though Josh seemed to be about four, the woman accompanying him did not appear to be old enough to have a child of that age. Margarita jumped on the incongruity.
“Is that your mother who is with you?”
“No.” Josh paused. “She’s my mommy.”
“Oh yes, your mommy.” The waitress was still skeptical. “Where are the two of you going?”
“We’re not going no place.”
“I see. You must be coming from somewhere.”
“We’re not coming or going.”
“What are you doing here then?”
“My mommy said we had to make a run for it.”
Margarita stood speechless for a few seconds. Finally she whispered, “Were you running away?”
“I think so.” His eyes drifted back to his coloring project. “My mommy said we had to run.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” The whispering continued.
“Are you running from a person?”
“Maybe.”
“Is it your daddy?”
“I don’t have a daddy, only a mommy.”
“Are you running because someone is chasing you?”
“I’m not running, silly. I’m drawing pictures. I runned here from the car with my blankie.”
Josh resumed his art project, ignoring the waitress who continued to study him.
The restaurant’s door banged open. The howling wind could not deaden the unmistakable cry of distress. “Oh, my God! Someone call 9-1-1. Please. Call 9-1-1.”
*****
The business district was completely deserted. All twenty-nine stores and restaurants were dark. Misty’s Coffee and Bakery Delights was always filled with hungry customers every morning of the week, but not today. Misty’s Delights was locked tight. Morning services and Sunday school programs were cancelled at every church in town. The towering street lamps remained illuminated beyond their normal shutoff time, but the wind-whipped snow obliterated the light they cast before it reached the ground. Everything was encased in white. A lone car labored down the street. Decals of a gold star and the phrase Protect and Serve adorned its side. Three inches of snow covered its roof.
The patrol car skidded to a halt a few inches from the orange and white post