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145
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2020
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Publié par
Date de parution
31 janvier 2020
Nombre de lectures
0
EAN13
9781645368274
Langue
English
Poids de l'ouvrage
1 Mo
Publié par
Date de parution
31 janvier 2020
Nombre de lectures
0
EAN13
9781645368274
Langue
English
Poids de l'ouvrage
1 Mo
Suddenly Single
Larry Brown
Austin Macauley Publishers
2020-01-31
Suddenly Single About the Author Dedication Copyright Information © Acknowledgment Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 The Trial Opening Remarks Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Chapter 52 Chapter 53 Chapter 54 Chapter 55 Chapter 56 Christmas – Shadow Lake Farm Chapter 57 Christmas – Pine Lake Chapter 58 Chapter 59 Chapter 60 Chapter 61 Chapter 62 Chapter 63 Chapter 64 Chapter 65 Chapter 66 Chapter 67 Chapter 68 Chapter 69 Chapter 70 Chapter 71 Chapter 72 Chapter 73 Chapter 74 Chapter 75 Chapter 76 Epilogue
About the Author
Larry Brown is a retired business executive living near Lake Keowee, Seneca, South Carolina. After a successful business career, he began to pursue writing. This will be his third novel. His goal is to continue writing.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my wife of 48 years, Marsha. She is my toughest critic, but also my biggest motivator. She is also the love of my life.
Copyright Information ©
Larry Brown (2020)
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher.
Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
Ordering Information:
Quantity sales: special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the address below.
Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication data
Brown, Larry
Suddenly Single
ISBN 9781643785929 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781643785936 (Hardback)
ISBN 9781645368274 (ePub e-book)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2019919329
www.austinmacauley.com/us
First Published (2020)
Austin Macauley Publishers LLC
40 Wall Street, 28th Floor
New York, NY 10005
USA
mail-usa@austinmacauley.com
+1 (646) 5125767
Acknowledgment
Thanks to Charles Bassos, Cliff Barlow, and Jan Dickson, who helped me stay motivated and on track.
Chapter 1
The old man was shaking uncontrollably. His sobbing was so deep his chest hurt. He didn’t even notice the blood that was on both his hands and now beginning to show on his shirt and pants.
He had taken her body off the glass coffee table in front of the stone fireplace in their great room, where she landed after the shotgun blast had opened up her chest. The second blast had killed their dog, Belle.
He had awkwardly moved her body onto the sectional leather sofa where they had been watching TV only minutes ago. He sat on the floor beside her trying to close her blouse that had been ripped open by the shotgun blast. He placed his arm around her, put his head on her shoulder, closed his eyes and tried to compose himself.
He said out loud, “Oh God, my God, how could this happen?” Now he was mad. Not at God, he was a man who loved God; they were a couple who loved God. No, he was now furious at the two men who had invaded their home.
He got up and picked up his Ruger .38 revolver which he had laid it on the glass table beside her. A small amount of blood had leaked onto the handle, but it didn’t matter as his hands were both covered with blood.
He walked to the hallway which led to their bedroom and stood over the body of the first dead man, who had received two of his .38s. He screamed an obscenity and shot the dead man in the face. Now he walked back to the great room then onto the porch and the porch entrance to their bedroom.
The other dead man lay in the entry among the glass shards and wood pieces of the ruined door frame. He stood over the dead man and shouted the same obscenity again and shot him in the face. This seemed to calm his rage.
He walked back into the great room, placed the Ruger on the glass table, and sat down in his big leather recliner. His sobbing and shaking had stopped even though his hands still trembled. Suddenly his body felt numb. He knew he needed to call someone, but he wasn’t sure he could pick up his cell phone on the table next to his recliner.
What just happened? They had been talking about food to be bought for their daughter and her husband’s visit. He had interrupted her and told her to wait while he went to get a sweater. She always kept the temperature so cold.
As he started down the hallway to the bedroom, he heard the crash of wood and glass as it exploded. He looked back to see two men in ski masks charge into their entrance. One had a shotgun, the other a handgun. From that point, his instincts took over.
His shotgun, always loaded and in easy reach in the hall closet, was his first stop. He grabbed it, then entered the bedroom and pulled open the nightstand drawer, where he kept the Ruger. That may be the thing that saved him; they probably didn’t know there was an entrance to the back porch from the bedroom. As he grabbed the Ruger, he heard two shotgun blasts. With no forethought, he charged onto the back porch and then to the great room.
Maggie was draped half on the glass table, her chest pouring blood. Belle was lying by the fireplace, a mass of white hair and blood. The two men were gone, and he knew they were in his bedroom and would soon be at the porch door which he had left half open. When the first man stepped into the porch entrance, he fired both barrels of the 12-gauge coach gun, blowing the man along with glass and pieces of the door back into the bedroom. He quickly stepped into the great room from the porch and crouched behind the big TV stand. Setting the shotgun on the floor, he aimed the Ruger at the hallway entrance. The man stepped into the great room and seemed momentarily focused on Maggie’s body. From his crouched position, the old man fired two .38s through the man’s chest.
As he sat and leaned against the wall, he knew he didn’t believe in coincidences. It was no coincidence that he had gotten cold and had gone for a sweater. For whatever reason, God did not want him to die that day. But, why Maggie? Why poor little Belle? Why us? He then remembered the box of gold coins. He picked up his cell phone and dialed 911.
Chapter 2
The town of Lakeview, SC, was in Polk County and on the perimeter of Pine Lake. Polk County was on the far western side of the state with two pieces of the county bordering North Carolina and Georgia. Lakeview was the largest town in the county and the headquarters of the Polk County Sheriff’s department.
Sheriff Clay Hardaway had lived in Polk County his entire life. He had been in the department for 30 years, the head man for the last 20. The sheriff was a big man at 6'5" before he put on his brushed leather cowboy boots. He weighed about 250 pounds with a pink to red complexion. He had always worn his hair in a flat top cut, and you could hardly notice the white hair now mixing with his blonde. He was an intimidating figure, even at age 56.
Sheriff Hardaway’s team of 10 included three dispatchers and one administrative assistant, all females. Four of his six deputies were under 35 years old and had done tours in the military special forces in the Middle East as did the one female deputy. His sixth deputy was 65-year-old Al Johnson, the former sheriff, and Clay’s best friend.
It was 10:50 pm when the 911 call was received at the sheriff’s office. According to procedure, any call that involved gunfire with people down gets the highest priority. If there were not a deputy on patrol, one was immediately dispatched to the location. The second call went to the sheriff, wherever his location was at the time. EMT dispatch received the third call.
On this night, the call went to the sheriff at his home, a cabin on Pine Lake. The location would take about twenty to twenty-five minutes to reach from the office, but Hardaway could be there in ten minutes from his home. He had just cut a big red apple into slices when the call came. When he heard the name and address, he was shocked. He had just been at a reception in the county auditorium honoring Harry Blake and his wife, Maggie.
They were older than him but full of life and energy, and he had enjoyed meeting them both. He felt like they were genuinely nice people. He remembered thinking how much Maggie had reminded him of his wife, Louise. Louise would have liked the couple. She had died of breast cancer six months ago, about the same time the Blakes had moved to Polk County and the lake.
The reception was to celebrate the literary award Harry Blake had received. He had been a successful businessman, retired and began to write fiction. His first two books received the American Literary Association’s Craft Master Award. Not only was the recognition national news, but it also contained the grand prize of $125,000 in gold coins enclosed in a gold inlaid box. The box and coins were on display at the reception, and all of the mainstream media outlets had pictured the prize. It was awe-inspiring.
His mind shifted back to the dispatcher’s remarks, “apparent home invasion.” They didn’t have home invasions in Polk County. Maybe a drunken husband or boyfriend in a gone-bad relationship, but that was about all they had to deal with in that regard. And three dead bodies, Oh my God, he thought, he couldn’t