Shred of Evidence

The one-sided conversation was being conducted with enthusiasm. Homicide Detective Sergeant Gina Nolan had discovered the joys of low-carb dieting and was expounding on it at some length to her bored partner on the other side of the desk.

Detective Jill Waliewiski still felt obliged to show some interest. “But if you eat only the meat, what do you do with the bun?” Waliewiski decided it was a dumb question, but it was all she could think of to ask, and now it was too late to take it back.

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At sixty-two, Orson Roddenberry was now giving occasional thoughts to retirement, but not because he was unhappy with his work as a private investigator. On the contrary, his thirty-seven years at that stint, almost twenty of them with his own company in Southern California, had been satisfying if not exciting. A fan of all TV-PI shows, he enjoyed seeing the myths the public was exposed to when it came to his profession. What a contrast!

Orson had never so much as touched a gun during his entire career. The most serious physical danger he’d ever been close to was when he’d been sideswiped by a drunken driver while on stakeout. Much harm done to the car, none to Orson.

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Detective Jill Waliewiski wasn’t the least bit hungry. But Detective Sergeant Gina Nolan had insisted the quiet night could turn into a frenzy at any minute, and it was never a good idea to go into battle on an empty stomach. They had been working together long enough to be on a first name basis, but Nolan could still pull rank.

Waliewiski launched a protest. “You know, Gina, you keep fretting about your weight, but you just keep right on scarfing down cheeseburgers like they’re going out of style.”

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Jimmy Hanson was a sallow man who enjoyed little in life save for his bird watching. Actually, he looked like a birdwatcher—which he was. He did not look like a blackmailer—which he also was.

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Sheriff Morrison couldn’t remember a spring to match this one. It had started ahead of the calendar, in February, on top of a heavy blanket of snow. The temperature soared, the crocuses bloomed, the river rose, the weather turned unbelievably mild and beautiful for a few days, and then the rains began—and went on and on and on. Always a major topic of conversation in the small town on the slope of the Cascades, the weather had now virtually become its exclusive concern. “I’m growing webs between my toes.” “Could’ve sworn I saw the sun yesterday.” “Never thought I’d be able to paddle a canoe right there in my front yard.”

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Homepage: http://www.fictionwritings.com

Born in Cambridge Mass in 1924. AB Harvard ‘49. MA and Ph.D. University of Washington. College teacher for 20 years. Several articles published. Reviewer: non-fiction for Bibliophilos; mystery/suspense books for I Love a Mystery; books and videotapes for The American Association for The Advancement of Science. Over two hundred short stories sold and published.

Books:
MANA. Pulsar Books. ISBN 1-58697-206-5 (print) and ISBN 1-58697-892-4-2 (electronic).
DEATH OF THE TIN MAN’S WIFE. Coffee Cup Press. ISBN 0-9713660-2-0.
THE LEFT HAND OF DEATH. Coffee Cup Press. ISBN 0-9713660-5-5.
DEATH OF A DEVELOPER. HandHeld Crime. ISBN 0-9713660-7-1.
A METHOD TO MURDER. HandHeld Crime. ISBN 0-9713660-9-8
“FIFTY-MINUTES” FLAHERTY Boson Books–sample at http://www.bosonbooks.com/boson/fiction/ ISBN 0-917990-86-2.
MURDER AT MILLTOWN JUNIOR COLLEGE. Boson Books–to be announced.
C. A. TOURNEY, ATTORNEY-AT-LAW. PublishAmerica–to be announced, www.PublishAmerica.com