Posts tagged mystery

CSI Lesson-Clean Your Shoes

CSI Lesson- Clean Your Shoes

 

 

 

 

It was a beautiful cabin. Carrie had dreamed of owning a cabin like this one in the Ozarks since she was a child. Nearby, a stream danced along among trees laced in Autumn’s finest colors, aster swayed in the breeze

 

She had seen the business card of a moving company pinned to the bulletin board inside a Quick Shop, and asked the store owner if he knew anything about the company. “ Yep, said the owner, know them well. They are good guys, so far as I know.”

 

The phone was answered by a man named Jeff Morris, He told Carrie that he and his brother, Marcus had a small moving van and could do the job for her in two days. Their price seemed reasonable, and though she was disappointed to have to wait two days for the move, it wasn’t unexpected.

 

Carrie walked up to the cabin, unlocked the door and inhaled the fragrant scent of new pine. She sat rocker and watched the trees dance outside the window. Sipping a glass of tea, her cat, Freckles jumped in her lap.

 

She had brought a few things with her while the house was being working on and decided to spend the night at the cabin with Freckles curled up beside her, cuddled on the blow-up mattress and navy blue sleeping bag.

……………………………………..

When Carrie didn’t answer her cell phone the next day, Jeff and Marcus decided to stop by and be sure Carrie still wanted the furniture moved the next day. Carries car was there, but the door locked was when they arrived. They could hear Freckles meowing pitifully. The brothers walked down to the creek, thinking she may be nearby.

 

Carrie!” Marcus called, waited and called again. No answer.

 

“Marcus, come here!” Jeff cried out suddenly. His brother found him standing over Carries silent body It looked as though she had been struck from behind. Shaking, Marcus called 911 to report what they had found.

 

The brothers were immediately considered suspects. Terrified, they swore their innocence.

 

One of the detectives who had investigated the cabin ran down to where Marcus and Jeff were being interrogated. “Take of your shoes.” he demanded of the brothers.

 

Confused, they took off their shoes and handed the to the detective. He turned them over and looked at the treads, flashed on the picture app of his cell phone, and after looking at a photo, sighed and said. Take their phone number and let them go.”

 

“What?” said one of the other officers.

 

“Saw it on CSI last week,” the detective smiled. “The murdered left his shoe prints on the newly finished floor and they didn’t match those of the suspects apprehended at the scene.”

 

Marcus and Jeff took a sad look at Carrie’s beautiful, still body and breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully the shoe prints would lead them to her killer.

 

“Maybe we should watch more TV,” Jeff smiled. “We might actually learn something!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Sound of Murder

The Supervisor of London’s Detective Force could not help but laugh as he shut the door after Mrs. Ford’s interview. “She tell enough white lies to ice a wedding cake.” he laughed to his finest officer.

“Yes,” replied Detective Trent. “We have dealt with her vivid imagination before, I’m afraid.”

As Supervisor Johnston leaned back in his chair, he recalled the reason for his talk with Detective Trent- a gruesome murder behind stage at a musical concert the night before.

“It was an F string from a violin that had choked Mr. Hampton.” She had sworn.

How could she have known?

 

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Love Lost and Stolen

Image

Though I am not aware of any great love

 beaming down upon me, I hope they are there

My lost son, my mother , her parents,

They speak to me, hear me when no one else does.

 

I have searched, believed, dreamed, loved

and seen all of that stolen from me.

In misery, drowning in tears, I have lain,

thinking of you, longing for your touch.

 

Oh, Holy Spirit, one whom I should trust

I often wonder where you are, near, or far

Do you watch over me while I suffer?

Do you not interject yourself in earths troubles?

 

There was a time when the majesty of your works,

the beauty of the forest and flowers of spring,

carried me to a place of pure delight.

Now, all I do is wonder what I did to make you leave.

 

Nothing can bring back what was stolen from me.

I try to find comfort in the winds, the sea,

To find you again, but I cannot see beyond the clouds.

I reach up, longingly to find only emptiness.

 

All you must do is reach down as I reach up,

as you did once and suddenly withdrew.

I hear the winds power, the majestic clouds.

But i want you, and can never ever have you here again.

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Out of Place

 

 

 

I visualize the landscape-lonely and forbidding. I wonder where I am this time, within my dream-world. Surely a not pleasant place though it holds a certain mystery. I think of myself, how alone, different, isolated I have always been. Suddenly, I recognize my attraction to the picture. The salt mound or is it sandstone-worn but still surviving, like me. Present, but not seeming to belong there.

 

Drawing one’s eye, inviting one to explore it, see what it is made of. One would think as their hand ran gently down the surface. Never quite fitting the world it is part of.

 

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De Ja Voux?

 She felt herself running, tripping down this odd stair case, the echo of someone following her, close behind. It was rather dark, in this place she’d never been-Italy, maybe, Old Europe?

 

It seemed the stairs went on and on, chunks of granite worn down by time-some sort of alley way. There were no cares and no doors that led anywhere.

 

 

 

Where was she, who was chasing her? Why was she here? A cold breeze whipped by her, she jumped up. Her heart pounding. “A dream,” she sighed, “only a dream.”

“Where had she seen those steps?” she thought, now awake.

 

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A Quiet Place

The river was out of its banks again. Muddy torrents rushed around the bend as they headed for the dam at the old water plant. Trees swayed at the edge of the water, looking as if they would topple in at any moment. She had walked down this trail so many times, it had been her “quiet place” as a teen. But not today, it held the roar of a restless spirit. She saw the old mill stone laying near the path. Beside it, something caught her eyes. A human skull, she thought, sucking in her breath. No! Not again!

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Silver Challis

“Alas! She laughed as he swooped into the parlor like some minor royalty. “He has surely forgotten his station!” She turned her silver Challis toward he lips and drank of the blood within., no one noticing as she licked a stray drop from her lip. “Soon, he would be reminded,” she smiled.

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The Winds of the world

I am the mother of the earth. From within my soul comes life, hope, dreams. Yet within my tears flow death, fear, agony. I am all. I am what is, what was, and what will be. Close your eyes and imagine me as you would like, because that is what I am. You mold me into your beautiful form or let me lie, unattended and alone. Take me, hold me, give me the beauty inside your mind.

I am the mother of the earth. From within my soul comes life, hope, dreams. Yet within my tears flow death, fear, agony. I am all. I am what is, what was, and what will be. Close your eyes and imagine me as you would like, because that is what I am. You mold me into your beautiful form or let me lie, unattended and alone. Take me, hold me, give me the beauty inside your mind.

I am the mother of the earth. From within my soul comes life, hope, dreams. Yet within my tears flow death, fear, agony. I am all. I am what is, what was, and what will be. Close your eyes and imagine me as you would like, because that is what I am. You mold me into your beautiful form or let me lie, unattended and alone. Take me, hold me, give me the beauty inside your mind.

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Moonlight

In the darkness shines

An obelisk of mystery

My soul, lost in time

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Victoria’s Castle

FLASHFRIDAY prompt Skull Hotel kent-bonham

She sat in the chair, staring at the wizened old lawyer.

“Zats vat it says” he uttered in his very European accent, for the third time. “I leave my great neice Victoria, who bears my name, my hotel in Winterthur, Svitzerlund.”

“I didn’t even know I had an Aunt Victoria!” Vicki exclaimed. “And where the heck is Winterthur, and what hotel?”

He handed her the photo, his hand shaking. It was the hotel she had seen on Modern Murder Mysteries on her favorite TV show last week.

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