The Sand Bluff Murders, C. M. Albrecht [simple e reader .TXT] 📗

his bull and let her attitude show every time he spoke to her. At least Subira had
that in her favor.
A half-finished baked doughnut lay on a plate before Ackers alongside an empty coffee
mug.
"Hi Subira," I greeted. "How about a cup of coffee and I'll buy refills for Sand Bluff's
finest too." That was just talk. I already knew that Mattie, surgically attached to the
register up front, never charged us for coffee.
Smiling and popping her gum, Subira moved indolently over to the coffee station and
picked up a coffee pot and a mug.
I looked at Ackers as I got up onto the stool next to him. "So I hear you've been out
picking up dead meat, Harold."
“Yah,” Mohr said. “He goes around scraping stiffs off the street. Nice work, Ackers.”
Harold laughed but without mirth. "It's not really funny. Geeze, I didn't even know the
guy was dead till — hell, I never saw a dead man before. I've never even been to a
funeral."
Mohr looked over at me like I was his conspirator in a make fun of Ackers routine.
“Where'd this guy find his badge, in a Cracker Jack box?”
We both ignored Mohr.
"Well, don't feel bad,” I told Harold. “I've never stumbled across any dead guys
either...and I've done a lot of stumbling, especially in alleys after the bars close."
Mohr snorted but Harold didn't laugh. Instead he muttered, "I don't drink."
Subira poured us three coffees.
"Doughnut?" she asked, giving me a smart-ass look.
"Please, no cops and doughnut jokes so early in the morning."
She gave me a supercilious glance and moved off.
"So what's the deal on this body you found in the alley, Harold? Tell me everything you
know."
He looked at me for a minute, then remembering that I was, after all, the town's chief
homicide detective, he nodded. "Yeah. Well, the Blu Lite closed at two like always. I was
passing by in front just a little before two. A couple of customers were coming out the
street door. Everything looked okay. Everything right on track, you know?" He fingered
his half-baked doughnut but wisely decided against another bite. "Well, I drove on down
to the end of Broadway, past the Quick Stop. 'Course the lights were on at the Quick
Stop but there was no action. I kind of keep an eye on the place because if somebody was
going to come through town at night looking for easy money, the Quick Stop would be
their target, it being the only place in town that never closes."
"And that redhead isn't hard to look at either," I said. He saw the twinkle in my eye and
grinned.
Mohr sipped coffee, snorted under his breath, and gave us a superior look as if he was
way ahead of anything we might say or do.
"Well, yeah. Okay, I stopped and we talked for a couple of minutes. Nobody came in.
Anyways, then I got back in my cruiser and I could see all the way down Broadway. I did
notice the time. It was just two sharp. The lights were out at the Blu Lite. There wasn't
even a stray cat wandering around, so I cut in back to take a look at the Blu Lite parking
lot. I was driving down the alley and that’s when I found him."
"So he was just lying in the alley? Right in the middle, off to one side, what?"
Harold scratched his head. He had unruly black hair, but kept it so short it didn't seem to
cause a problem. "Okay, I think — no, I'm sure. It was lying just to the side, about a foot
from the dumpster back of the Blu Lite."
"You have any impression of whether it was placed there, knocked there, just fell there or
anything at all?"
Ackers thought and swallowed more coffee. "No. No, I couldn't say. He was just there. I
told you, I didn't know he was dead. I just thought he had too much to drink. I didn't even
notice any blood until, you know — later."
'What about the parking lot? Any cars?"
Harold stared at me. "The parking lot? Well, I guess I didn't really pay any attention. I
mean, with that guy on the ground there…I was just looking at him."
"Yeah. Listen, after we finish our coffee could you take me over and show me exactly
where you found it?"
"Sure, of course," Harold said. He seemed to have one oar half out of the water, but the
more I talked to him, the more I thought we could get along. On the other hand, as we left
Mohr still trying to impress Subira, I had a distinct feeling that sooner or later he and I
would have a run-in.
On the way out Mattie smiled. “I like your hat,” she said. In the background Mohr
snorted again.
Harold drove an official Crown Vic. He followed my pickup down the alley to the Blu
Light. Only a small sign above the rear door admitted this was the Blu Lite, but since this
area offered the best parking, the back door was actually the main entrance. A few steps
away from the door stood an open green dumpster just like others that lined the east side
of the alley.

© 2012 by C. M. Albrecht, All rights reserved

Order your copy today from www.writewordsinc.com and most book sites. For more of my books, check my website at www.cm-albrecht.webs.com and for reviews, highly opinionated commentary, check my Blog at www.cmalbrecht.wordpress.com
Clinically proven to be effective and recommended by doctors two to one over reality TV

Imprint

Text: C. M. Albrecht
Editing: Shelley Rodgerson
Publication Date: 08-28-2012

All Rights Reserved