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Meat Matters (Murder Mysteries in Minutes)
Meat Matters (Murder Mysteries in Minutes)
Meat Matters (Murder Mysteries in Minutes)
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Meat Matters (Murder Mysteries in Minutes)

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An exciting collection of a half dozen "bare-boned" mysteries written in the style of storytelling. Murder, mayhem, mystery all broken down to "just the meat". No frills, no appetizers, but many just desserts.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherC Moretz
Release dateAug 6, 2012
ISBN9781476215495
Meat Matters (Murder Mysteries in Minutes)
Author

C Moretz

Personal information is limited for privacy, however Author will respond to personal email at callenmoretz@hotmail.com

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    Meat Matters (Murder Mysteries in Minutes) - C Moretz

    Meat Matters

    (Murder Mysteries in Minutes)

    By C. Moretz

    Published by C. Moretz at Smashwords

    Copywrite 2012 C.Moretz

    Smashwords Edition Licenses Notes

    This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    Empath Part 1

    The newest detective in the squad walked into the office a little after noon. He was greeted with a round of applause by the others seated at their desks and looked to see what the big deal was. It only took a moment to see. The Sergeant was in his office waving at him and then yelled, Get your ass in here!

    Once in the office the Sergeant closed the door, told him to sit down, and then sat on the edge of his desk. You had an encounter today that you want to tell me about? It was not a question.

    The young detective looked down at his shoes. The day had been a shambles and if the Sergeant knew about his meeting with the Doctor, he might be out of the Unit before he had much opportunity to advance. He began to explain, but the Sergeant held up his hand, stopping him in mid sentence. I know who you saw and what you were after. He explained. He shook his head. The Doctor is used to detectives from all over the country coming to his door. He stopped answering his phone years ago. He looked at the younger man. We have an appointment at three. Have your notepad handy for now and sit in on the interview.

    The young detective felt relieved. He stood, left the office and went to his desk. He picked up his notepad and followed the other detectives now heading in the direction of the interview room. The interview was actually the reason he had sought out the old crotchety doctor in the first place, so he hoped he was not disappointed in the gut feeling he still had.

    The detectives entered the small room together and each sat on one side of the table. It was a typical, bare room used for interviewing suspects; one long table and enough chairs for all involved. There were no luxuries and no vents for airflow, sometimes creating a suffocating feeling and occasionally leaving a stench that remained for days after an interrogation.

    The man sitting at the table was dressed in a suit. His tie had been loosened. A cup of tea was in front of him, but it had not been touched. The young detective immediately had the same feeling he had two days earlier; the man was innocent. He didn’t say it. Instead he remained silent and listened as the two senior detectives began with the questions.

    He wrote quickly as answers were given precisely after questions were posed. The suspect was an intelligent man, a professor at the University, who had a way of responding like no other suspect they had questioned. He was an open book. And this was part of the reasoning behind his feeling that the guy was wrong for the crime he was suspected of committing.

    After an hour of questioning, the two seemed at a loss. The younger detective had not said a word, but knew the one important question had yet to be asked. Did you do it? Did you rape and kill Tommy Miller? He asked.

    The professor looked at him for a moment, and then shook his head. I didn’t, and moreover, I recognize that if you have evidence that says otherwise, I will probably not be able to convince a jury of my innocence.

    The door opened and the Sergeant came in. He looked at the professor, nodded, and asked that he take a ride with him. Then he tapped the young detective on the shoulder and said, Let’s go. The three walked out of the room together leaving the two detectives to clean up the papers scattered about.

    The three got into the Sergeant’s sedan without concern for who would sit in the back. The younger detective took that spot based on respect. There was no protocol, no handcuffs, and no explanation. When they were seated, the Sergeant handed the detective a manila folder that he had carried with him to the car. He told the detective he can look at it now and then pulled the vehicle out of the parking lot.

    The detective read the lab report. The DNA on the pubic hair found at the scene of the crime was a positive match to the Professor. As well, the cleaning agent found on the note was a match to the cleaner used on the body. From what the detective read, the man in the passenger seat was a cruel murderer.

    The Sergeant began speaking as the folder was closed. Don’t bet on a sure thing, Cameron. If everything falls into place so easily, I always have my doubts, and your gut instinct might be a good tool in cases like this. He looked in the rearview mirror. That’s why we’re going to see the expert.

    Both the Professor and Detective Cameron are slightly confused when the Sergeant pulls into a strip mall and parks in front of a coffee shop. The Professor jokingly asks if they are here for afternoon tea and is told by the Sergeant that they have tea available, however they are there on business. The trip will determine if they take the Professor back in handcuffs or not. This response quiets the Professor. The young detective is even more confused by the exchange.

    The three enter the coffee shop and the Sergeant is immediately greeted by a beautiful bohemian woman who hugs him and kisses both of his cheeks. He spins her, taps her on the rear and tells her they are expected. She tells him everyone is present and the backroom is all theirs. He asks her to bring a meat and cheese plate and an assortment of sweets and she laughs, telling him he needed to stop eating all of the time. He ignores this and leads the other two men through a curtain in the back of the shop where, sitting in a comfortable recliner, is the Doctor.

    The young detective is baffled and says as much. The Doctor and Sergeant laugh at this and tell the younger man to sit down as they are amongst friends. The Sergeant also tells the Professor to sit in one of the many comfortable club chairs scattered around the room. The Sergeant seats himself facing the curtain alongside a coffee table. He no longer looks like he normally does. He looked relaxed. He made small talk with the Doctor, mentioned a to do list that the wench out there wants completed by the week’s end and clapped his hands together when the wench brought in the trays of food.

    She set the trays down beside the Sergeant, but then picked up a crème puff and threw it in his lap. You’re lucky that wasn’t hot coffee, Mister. She said. Call me that name again and no more goodies for you! The two stared at each other and he said, Give me a kiss, Babe. She did. Again he patted her rear when she turned to leave.

    The Doctor roared with laughter. You two need to get married, John, enough of this flirting!

    The Sergeant nodded. In good time.

    Each man in the room had a different reaction when they were joined by their host. The Doctor and Sergeant stood and each embraced the young man. The Doctor stood but moved no further. The young detective got excited. It all made sense now. The individual mentioned in the Doctor’s book had to be in his early twenties as was this young man, and all of this would not be a coincidence because that wouldn’t make sense at all. He kept still and tried not to squirm.

    The young man’s name was Josiah. He introduced himself to the two men he did not already know and then turned to the Sergeant. He didn’t do it.

    The Sergeant looked at the Doctor, then the detective, shrugged his shoulders and said, Let’s eat!

    The men ate from the trays while

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