The Alibi (A John Chance Mystery) – Chapter 28

Another not completely brand new chapter. Pieces from previous chapters rearranged and edited for story flow and continuity. Again.

As noted previously, I’ve learned to live with such things. Hope you can, too.

Enjoy.

The Alibi – Chapter 28

 
Thorne let the Lady Eglesia‘s systems bring it into the harbor while she dozed on the deck, barely moving from where she slept through the night. She headed out to deep water after hallucinating being back home and visited by the Wergaia mythical water being, the Bunyip, and assumed overwork and stress.

But her hallucinations were becoming more frequent. She’d been visited by Galaru Snakes and Wadjinas, Rain People, several times since then, and it didn’t matter how much work or play or sex she’d had, they persisted.

She wondered. Maybe they weren’t hallucinations after all? Usually a quick trip home cured such things. She’d take SkyHook’s corporate jet and be there and back in four day’s time. One day to get there, two days with her people, one day to get back.

But her last trip home she visited the Mandjilwa, a traditional Sickness Dreaming place, despite warnings from her father’s people.

That trip took a week. She left Shaul in charge, not her next-in-command but capable never-the-less.

The Eglesia‘s alarms sounded. A shoreside distress signal. Somebody breaking into SkyHook HQ and caught in her team’s latest tech gadgets?

She sighed and her eyes fluttered open to the Boston skyline, the morning sun at her back.

A man bobbed in front of her boat about fifty yards out. Like her, he focused on the Boston skyline.

The man turned towards the Eglesia as if suddenly realizing it was there. The sunlight shone off the water making him difficult to see.

Thorne shaded her eyes then opened them wide. “What the – ”

It wasn’t a man. Same shape, same outline, but not human.

Her mobile alarmed.

The thing in the water dove and was gone.

Thorne read the message on her mobile. She shaded her eyes and looked towards SkyHook HQ.

A cloud of gray smoke climbed the thirty story Innovation Square tower. Swirls of denser smoke pulled and pushed the cloud up the side of the building like some Ngolngol King Kong, a Cyclone Wind Spirit larger than she’d ever seen before, waving its arms and legs.


Previous entries in The Alibi (A John Chance Mystery)

My ‘Binky’ in WordCrafter Press’ Midnight Roost Anthology

I asked fellow Midnight Roost anthology contributors to share some things about themselves prior to publication and those generous enough to do so will be appearing here for the next week or so.

Each entry gives a taste of their contribution, a little about them, how to contact them, how their story came about, and definitely a link to Midnight Roost (which you should purchase because it would make each and every one of us happy.
you do want to make us happy, don’t you?
i mean, considering what we wrote, you want us to know you’re a good person, right?).

Let’s start with a Hallowe’en-themed introduction to the anthology as a whole:

Binky is the third of three of my pieces in Midnight Roost. Here’s the opening:

Marino sipped cold coffee from a white Styrofoam cup. He stood in his corner of the clinic staff’s office. A bricked-up fireplace ran along the wall nearest his desk, his clarinet on the mantle. Each day started with a little klezmer or polka, something to amuse the staff before the day began.
He nodded and smiled as they came in—”Morning, Dr. Marino.”, “Morning, Janet.”, “Yo, Peter.”, “Yo yourself, Brian.”—performing a headcount.
He was one shy. Who…
Pahtmus’ and Officer Houle’s voices rose above the chants and hollers of protesters beyond the clinic’s perimeter fencing.

How the story came about:
Binky is another story which evolved over time, and also from 1994. I always knew the story was about a haunted inner-city health center and was never comfortable with the traditional concept of “haunting.”
I also a proponent of a woman’s right to choose while simultaneously believing all life is sacred (a theme further developed and explored in Empty Sky).
The title was always “Binky” and I never knew who, what, or how Binky played a role.
And as they say, one day it all came together.

Enjoy!
Continue reading “My ‘Binky’ in WordCrafter Press’ Midnight Roost Anthology”

My ‘Blood Magic’ in WordCrafter Press’ Midnight Roost Anthology

I asked fellow Midnight Roost anthology contributors to share some things about themselves prior to publication and those generous enough to do so will be appearing here for the next week or so.

Each entry gives a taste of their contribution, a little about them, how to contact them, how their story came about, and definitely a link to Midnight Roost (which you should purchase because it would make each and every one of us happy.
you do want to make us happy, don’t you?
i mean, considering what we wrote, you want us to know you’re a good person, right?).

Let’s start with a Hallowe’en-themed introduction to the anthology as a whole:

Blood Magic is the second of three of my pieces in Midnight Roost. Here’s the opening:

Julia danced among oaks and ash, two short steps towards Eric, two long steps away, always drawing him into the hollow, always a hand or two beyond his reach. Once one of her long, blonde braids brushed the back of his hand and he almost had her, but he wasn’t quick enough, never quick enough.
“You’re such an old woman, Eric.”
Eric stopped as Julia entered a copse of ancient, dark boled trees. His hands staid his knife and axe—good forester’s tools his father gave him—swinging at his belt. “We are too far from the village.”
“Says your grandmother, who brings apples to any who will listen.”
“The Old Ones remember— ”
“The old ones are old.” She disappeared among the trees.

How the story came about:
Blood Magic is one of those stories which went through several versions before seeing the light of day, and all based on going apple-picking with friends back in 1994(!). A little girl bit into an apple and burst into tears. She threw the apple down and acted as if it bit her back. There was no obvious reason for it, and that image of a cursed or biting apple stuck.
Previous titles were Tag, The Apple, The Witch, and finally Blood Magic. The core (forgive the pun) remained consistent, its expression went through more evolutions than the titles indicate. There was always the concept of the witch, the apple, Eric, and Julia. The story originally ended with Julia biting the apple and hearing laughter. She puts the apple down on a table and it turns, revealing the witch’s face laughing at her.
That ending was okay but I always knew there was more to the story. It literally went through twenty-eight versions before what you read now in Midnight Zoo.
Even then, the story in the anthology is actually the opening of Tag, a novel due out in Spring 2024. Same core (oy!) concepts but now written into a Medieval murder mystery which takes place in Eastern Europe after the Crusades.
Continue reading “My ‘Blood Magic’ in WordCrafter Press’ Midnight Roost Anthology”

My ‘The Beach’ in WordCrafter Press’ Midnight Roost Anthology

I asked fellow Midnight Roost anthology contributors to share some things about themselves prior to publication and those generous enough to do so will be appearing here for the next week or so.

Each entry gives a taste of their contribution, a little about them, how to contact them, how their story came about, and definitely a link to Midnight Roost (which you should purchase because it would make each and every one of us happy.
you do want to make us happy, don’t you?
i mean, considering what we wrote, you want us to know you’re a good person, right?).

Let’s start with a Hallowe’en-themed introduction to the anthology as a whole:

The Beach is one of three of my pieces in Midnight Roost. Here’s the opening:

He found the gate. His hands remembered the twists and turns of the road and he guided his Maybach to a beach he hadn’t seen in forty years.
Moss and ivy grew over the gate’s red brick pillars, once clearly visible, striking in their elegantly manicured columns and granite-ball tops obscured by leaves and branches; its rusted black angels, their wings spread wide in flight—or warning. He never knew which—swung back from the road and into the overgrowth, the once firm hinges and hasps now slipping and twisted.
Birch and elm canopied the long twisting driveway, scrub pine marked its edges. Potholes blistered the once smooth pavement and roots broke through, scarring the surface.
He guided his Maybach at a crawl to its final destination, an animal wary in unfamiliar surroundings.

How the story came about:
The Beach is based on actual beach I discovered my first time through college. Pretty much everything in the story is based on what really happened…except killing. The killing is specific to the story. Aside from that, riding my bike, discovering the cove, seeing the mansions, even returning after successes in business (although just to see if the beach still existed, not to develop the property) are all based on actual events from my life.
Continue reading “My ‘The Beach’ in WordCrafter Press’ Midnight Roost Anthology”

Christopher Barilli’s ‘Shaken’ in WordCrafter Press’ Midnight Roost Anthology

I asked fellow Midnight Roost anthology contributors to share some things about themselves prior to publication and those generous enough to do so will be appearing here for the next week or so.

Each entry gives a taste of their contribution, a little about them, how to contact them, how their story came about, and definitely a link to Midnight Roost (which you should purchase because it would make each and every one of us happy.
you do want to make us happy, don’t you?
i mean, considering what we wrote, you want us to know you’re a good person, right?).

Let’s start with a Hallowe’en-themed introduction to the anthology as a whole:

Christopher’s contribution is Shaken. Here’s the opening:

The crying started at one-thirty a.m., but Misty was already wide-awake. She’d been on the losing end of a staring contest with the red LED on her baby monitor, convinced she wouldn’t hear little Sammy if he cried. Yet when the cries came, she not only heard, but knew they weren’t from Sammy.

How the story came about:
This story was born from a news story I heard on the radio many years ago, a story about a couple who was picking up another baby’s crying in another state on their own baby monitor. That story spawned an idea for a whole novel, actually, about people who follow random radio signals on their monitor and are swept up in a terrifying murder plot, involving their own child. That novel may still come out someday, but I was writing a different full-length work at the time, so I went with the short story version. Thus, shaken was born.
Continue reading “Christopher Barilli’s ‘Shaken’ in WordCrafter Press’ Midnight Roost Anthology”