The Alibi (A John Chance Mystery) – Chapter 27

No, not completely brand new. Pieces from previous chapters rearranged and edited for story flow and continuity.

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

Enjoy.

The Alibi – Chapter 27

 
Rexall Shaul stood quietly at the top of thirty flights of stairs. He made it through antoher day without suspicion. As before, he was the last one to leave the offices.

But he hadn’t left the building yet.

And Thorne was a nasty bitch when fucked with. She didn’t like being out of the loop. Any loop.

Her he could handle. Her and five or six of her people? Not so much.

He received word the NXS had gone active but he didn’t know where. Somewhere along the Atlantic shelf, he suspected but couldn’t be sure.

He hadn’t seen any more ghosts since close to a month ago.

He hadn’t heard any Beatles, either. That cleaning crew quit a few days later.

Connection?

He handed it off for others to handle.

He’d discretely pumped Thorne about any new tech SkyHook had in the works. Nothing. And he knew her tells. She was good, he was better.

He missed the Beatles music and smiled. That cleaning crew really had a thing for the Yellow Submarine album.

Check his watch, relax, breathe.

Two-forty-five seconds later he walked around his Exige, the pilot inspecting his craft before takeoff.

Satisfied, he stopped at the driver’s door, pulled out his phone, tapped a number.

The Exige rumbled to life and the driver’s door opened. Patches of the Exige’s antireflective coating glowed as if several flashlights shone all it, all in close proximity. Shaul turned around.

Nobody.

More tech? Something popped and he looked up.

A crack started in the concrete wall behind the Exige. Shaul watched it crawl like a crazy ant down to the corner of the garage. His jaw ached. He clutched his ears. Tinnitus like coming up too quickly from a dive, or climbing too high without oxygen.

An explosion shook SkyHook HQ’s building down to its foundations, and pieces of Rexall Shaul embedded themselves in the concrete walls at the front of his car.


Previous entries in The Alibi (A John Chance Mystery)

Christa Planko’s ‘The Easterville Glass Ghost’ 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:

Christa’s contribution is The Easterville Glass Ghost. Here’s the opening:

As Taryn approached the glassworks ruins, an eerie feeling overcame her. She clutched her goose-fleshed arms. Dilapidated walls rose above the rubble, a testament to the existence of the factory that once stood. Its brick-faced front featured large, arched entryways.
Despite the “No Trespassing” sign, she stepped over the rope. She climbed onto a pile of fallen bricks to take in the view. People usually roamed the park grounds. But not on this chilly spring day. It allowed her to get close and personal with the ruins she found so haunting.”

How the story came about:
History often serves as a window to the past. Social and political times, livelihoods, ways of living may change, but the human soul remains constant. Accounts of past lives enable the re-imagining of experiences and associated emotions we can relate to today. Such stories provide transparency, like a glass window into yesteryear. They build a bridge that connects past and present, reminding us of how brief and fragile our lives are—but also how remarkable acts, such as heroism, can live.
The story of the “Easterville Glass Ghost” is a historical fiction account of a 19th-century hero who met his untimely death at a glass factory. It examines how the spirit of human kindness transcends time and dimension, inspiring others across centuries.
Continue reading “Christa Planko’s ‘The Easterville Glass Ghost’ in WordCrafter Press’ Midnight Roost Anthology”

Denise Aparo’s ‘The Pines’ 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:

Denise’s contribution is The Pines. Here’s the opening:

The ping of the brass counter bell resonated through the rustic tavern lobby.
“May I help you?” As the tavernkeeper appeared from behind the mahogany counter, he gave the guest a cheerful smile as he twisted a stark white cloth inside a barrel-shaped stein.
“I have a reservation for a single room under Douglas. Orna Douglas.” She held out a credit card.
Setting the pint glass on the inner counter, he flipped the pages of a large register. He frowned, “Em, sorry, Ms. Douglas. There was no confirmation for the booking. I procured it yesterday. Unfortunately, no rooms due to the storm.”

How the story came about:
The inspiration for her short story “The Pines” came from a weekend visit to the cozy New Hampshire town of North Conway. While staying at a local inn with her husband and another couple, they each experienced unexplained events, like seeing shadows move against the wall and having a feeling of being tapped on the shoulder when standing alone. The more they discussed their eerie feelings, the more the power of suggestion took over!
The visit to the inn, combined with recently learning about her family heritage, and hearing about the miscarriage of a very spiritual friend, prompted the structure of her story.
Continue reading “Denise Aparo’s ‘The Pines’ in WordCrafter Press’ Midnight Roost Anthology”

M J Mallon’s ‘The Cull’ 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:

M J’s contribution is The Cull. Here’s the opening:

Adrian studied his self-portrait, a medium black charcoal piece set against a white
background, turning it this way and that as if trying to understand it. As he stared, the more
disturbing it became. Its painted charcoal mouth startled him by opening wide, its tongue
swelled. It spat, twisting and turning on the page, becoming a spectre of rage.
He yelled. “Stop that! You diabolical, twisted abomination…”
Adrian brought the edge of his hand down hard against the portrait, erasing half of his face in a fury of frustration.

How the story came about:
I wrote this short story whilst working in a Sixth Form College for international students in Cambridge. I was required to have GDPR training at work. Whilst focusing on the finer details (which were quite boring,) I began to imagine what would happen if people were subjected to a computer generated cull… That’s how this story came into being! In my experience, ideas for stories can derive from all sorts of different sources: conversations, visual stimuli, artwork, and even the most mundane day-to-day work tasks can be an inspiration!
Continue reading “M J Mallon’s ‘The Cull’ in WordCrafter Press’ Midnight Roost Anthology”

Saying Hello to Mom

Bears, it seems, are taught a social etiquette when dealing with Two-Leggers.

A kind of Ursine “Don’t talk to Strangers” me thinks.

This affable matron – and my apologies for not noticing this during filming (filming??? Oh, how 20th century, Joseph!) – is, we suspect, the mother of the lads offered in the past few videos.

The good news is she’s healthy and happy.

The less good news is her sons (and perhaps a daughter I didn’t notice at the time) told her about the good chow at Chez Carrabis.

And she didn’t even leave a tip.

Bummer.