Blog Archives

Mysterious Private Investigations by Peter DiChellis

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Jimmy told me about the burglary almost exactly a year after it happened. Right after we got thrown out of the pawnshop where Jimmy tried to sell the jewelry.

He had gone into a house one afternoon, Jimmy told me, with a guy everybody called Howie The Dog because he could sniff out excellent burglary sites. A shaded corner house in “a nice doctor and lawyer neighborhood,” as Jimmy put it. Howie and Jimmy felt sure they’d hit big money when they saw the tuxedo and evening gown hanging in the mirrored dressing area, instead of in the closet.Read the rest

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The Bulldog Ant is Not a Team Player by Dan Stout

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Whoever said that there’s honor among thieves must have worked alone.

Scientists both cruel and curious have demonstrated that a Bulldog Ant cut in two will continue to lash out at anything nearby, including itself, the heads and bodies biting and stinging their missing halves until either death or their nest mates claim them. The crew that hit Wayne Jewellers was like that—solid planning, flawless execution, but three days in a cabin and they were at each other’s throats.

Take, for example, the way Kit Rosland drowned Teddy Wilson in the toilet. Teddy had saved their lives, darting the getaway car down side streets and arranging for the second vehicle they swapped into.… Read the rest

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Old Friends by Frank Byrns

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There’s nothing quite like a friend dropping in unexpectedly.

The boys looked a lot different since the last time I saw them. They should have; it’d been almost ten years. Reed was twelve now, sandy-haired, the first hint of his old man’s barrel chest beginning to show. Leo, eleven months younger, Irish twins, tall and rangy, his mother’s son in every way.

They took turns pushing each other on the swing set, then got a little more ballsy, jumping off of the swing at the top of its arc, crash-landing on their knees, laughing, doing it again.… Read the rest

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Miscellany by Eryk Pruitt

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Not much ever happens in those little out of the way stores. Except when it does.

There’s a filling station just south of Durham, North Carolina, that raised a ruckus a while back because the owner refused to take down a Confederate flag he’d hoisted above the building. Imagine how folks from miles around flocked to see what would happen when the National Guard came out to tell him to take it down. How for years and years after, old timers would bend your ear with the details of the Klan, the protests.… Read the rest

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How Green Was My Valet by John H. Dromey

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It’s the familiar things you never notice that sometimes matter most.

Although perhaps not young enough or tall enough to become a top model, and decidedly not svelte enough to squeeze her ample charms into the impossibly-small confines of size zero haute couture gowns, the smartly-dressed woman nonetheless moved with the feline grace and confidence of a runway model. She appeared to treat the sidewalk as though it were an unending extension of a Parisian catwalk lined on both sides by shutter-happy fashion photographers.

Her accessories, at least, were the real thing. Her designer purse in particular was a real eye-catcher.… Read the rest

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