Black Coffee 5: A Charles "The Solver" Splints Case

By D.e.e.L

Charles 'The Solver' Splints is no longer the leader of the Grid, but he still lives! Venus thinks she's finally beaten the old detective as she has the city in her grasp, but with a fresh cup of black coffee Splints is back on the case. And this time he's not willing to leave any trace of the Grid behind once he's done. (Short Story 5 of 5)

• Language: English
• Publisher: D.e.e.L
• Release date: Jun 19, 2015

D.e.e.L

Dan Leicht is a contemporary romance author living in Rochester, NY with his fiancée Barbara and their cat Charlie. He has a Bachelor’s in Creative Writing from The College at Brockport.

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Black Coffee 5 – A Charles The Solver Splints Case

Copyright © 2013 by D.e.e.L

Copyright © 2015 by Dan Leicht (D.e.e.L)

Cover Art by D.e.e.L

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Dedicated to the first cup in the morning

Black Coffee 5 – A Charles The Solver Splints Case by Dan Leicht (D.e.e.L)

6 Hours Ago…

I fall asleep with the image of the dream-catcher floating above me. Nora walking into the distance. I know she’ll be close by if I need her, I know she’s always watching.

In the backseat of the car I close my eyes. Finally I can rest.

Now…

Everything burns. Everything aches. I wake up from inside my tomb and try to compose myself enough to get out, but the pain is filled with fury. She’s helping me though, as silly as it sounds. She’s yanking me out of the car and pushing me towards finishing the case. The voice of my illusions still bringing me to life; the voice of Nora.

I make my way out of the car and climb around to look back at my handy work. Four souls spread out on the fresh grass. Three of my Grid’s former members and a crummy bartender. The former Grid members each wanted to please their newest leader, so willingly leaving my side for being bested. Venus now sits upon her thrown drinking scotch from the bar where I once missed out on a cup of coffee.

I walk over to a nameless Grid member and kneel down to shut his eyes. I continue with the sentiment until they’re all sleeping, even the poet. The only one with a cell phone is the poet; I pick it up and find twenty missed calls since last night. Apparently he didn’t think enough to let his queen know where he was taking me – the dead man in the trunk. I shove the phone into my pocket and make