Now I Lay Me Down To Die

By chuck swope

When a beautiful young woman seeks help from Mack Talbot's Detective Agency All Of His Detective's Are Otherwise Engaged
So He Has To Interview Her Himself. She's Afraid For Her Boyfriend's Life And Seeks Protection. Mack Talbot Accompanies
Her To A Downtown Casino Where She's To Meet Her Boyfriend. When They Get To The Bar They Learn There's Been In A MUrder Inside One Of The Casino's Bars.
There's A Crowd Outside The Bar Inside The Casino And Word Is A Man's Been Murdered Inside The Bar And No One Is Allowed In Or Out. The Client Is Worried The Murdered Man
Is Her Boyfriend. The Police Show Up And One Of The Detective's Is Mack's Old Partner. Mack Collars Him And Tells Him Of
His Client's Concerns. The Detective Investigates And Comes Out And Tells Mack The Murdered Man's Name. Mack Sees The Relief On His Client's Face. The Murdered Man
Is Not The Woman's Boyfriend. But Mack And His Lead Detective And Hitch The New Kid That Mack Just Hired End Up Having To Solve 2 Murders Before THe Smoke Clears.

• Language: English
• Publisher: chuck swope
• Release date: Aug 23, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386407898

chuck swope

Chuck Swope was born in Evansville Ind. But One Day He Announced to his wife they were moving to Las Vegas, NV. They have now been there for years. He likes to bet horse races, read and of course write in the Mystery Genre and Science Fiction Genre. He has also written humor and Children's books under pen names.

Book preview

Copyright 2015 by Charles E Swope

Now I Lay Me Down To Die

Chuck Swope

This is A Work Of Fiction Any resemblance

To Any persons Living Or Dead

Is Strictly Coincidental

ONE

Dillon Jones groaned when the alarm went off at four in the morning. He wanted to turn back over and go back to sleep, but knew he couldn't, not if he wanted to be on time to catch his plane.

He willed himself to put his feet to the floor and get up. He showered, shaved, grabbed a power bar and headed for McCarran Airport. His flight lifted off at 7 a.m. In four hours he would be back in his hometown.

When the plane touched down, he grabbed a cab and went to a little tavern he frequented for many years before pulling up stakes and moving to Las Vegas. He had also tended bar there.

He took a spot at the long, polished bar. When the bartender noticed him he almost dropped the glasses he was washing, then broke into a huge smile. Damn, Dillon Jones. Good to see you, man.

Hi, Don. Glad to see you too.

You back to stay, Dillon?

Not hardly. I'm in town to see Cynthia.

Oh, God. This is the day, isn't it?

Yes, Don. This is the day.

Damn, sorry, man. I clean forgot.

Don't worry about it, Don. No reason you should remember.

Damn it, she was my friend just like you are. I should have remembered. I miss her, and when she got killed by that scum that hit her and ran, I lost both of you. She's gone forever and you moved away. Anyway, excuse me if I'm mad as hell, maybe at the whole world. But here I go ranting and raving about my rotten luck. I'm sorry.

It's okay, Don. Can you bring me the meal? It's too late for breakfast but just in time for lunch.

The bartender and owner of the bar perked up. You bet. That I can do. He scooted of in the direction of the kitchen. Dillon came back every year since his wife died and had the same meal. The same one his wife made him for breakfast on her last day on Earth. It wasn't long before Eileen, the cook, showed up and put the breakfast meal on an empty table. She never made breakfast for anyone after 10 a.m. but this was an exception. Dillon, so glad to see you. I wish it could be more than just this one day of the year.

Dillon wrapped his muscular arms around the heavy-set woman. Glad to see you too, sweetie. I really miss your cooking. How's Carl and little Carl?

He's fine. He's still driving for the brewery. He'll be around later, after work. Will you be coming back?

Sure. I'll make a point of it. It will be great to see the old gang again.

He remembered when Eileen, then forty-five years old, was told by the Doctor that she had a tumor and needed an operation. Carl, her husband, worried himself almost to death over it and worked extra shifts to save for the impending operation. A few months later, little Carl was born. Everybody had a hearty laugh over that.

He sat down at her insistence and started eating his late breakfast that consisted of three scrambled eggs, a stack of four pancakes, sausages and a steaming cup of black coffee. He poured syrup over the pancakes and hot sauce over the eggs and sausage. Eileen pecked him on his now syrupy lips and waddled back to her kitchen.

***

He sat at his wife's graveside, sobbing quietly as he twisted his wedding band round and round on his finger. He always replayed that day over and over in his mind. He was running late, so he told her to take the car and go on to work, he would call an a co-worker and get himself a ride. If only he had been with her. He knew logically that if he had, they might both be dead. He vowed to find the driver of the offending vehicle, but after almost a year he had no luck. He sat there, picturing her and remembering the joys of their five years of marriage.

Every year he wondered why he kept torturing himself this way. As A logical thinker he knew that coming back didn't really bring him any closer to his dead wife, knew that she couldn't hear him talking or crying, knew that she was gone and wasn't coming back. Yet, here he was. He came back every year like clockwork, and laid a dozen roses on her grave. He usually stayed about an hour, then left, cursing himself for coming, cursing himself for that horrible day, and cursing the rotten sonofabitch that would leave a woman in a twisted wreck to die alone while he or she ran away. That bastard was living and breathing. His or her life continued. They lived, they breathed, they were still able to enjoy all the emotions and joys of life. His wife lay beneath the earth. Never more to enjoy any of that.

Why? he screamed and left. He showed up back at the bar and hobnobbed with his friends for several hours when Donna walked in.

Hello, Dillon. How have you been?

About as well as can be expected, I guess. Let's move over here to a table. He took his beer and guided her to the only empty table in the room. What are you drinking?"

I'll have a Vodka Collins.

Meg, bring the lady a Vodka Collins. The waitress took the order and flitted away.

I hope you don't mind me coming here, she said.

Of course not. But how did you know I'd be here?

I remembered just what day it was. You come every year and have for the last five years. I would have been here sooner but I had to work late. I'm glad to see you Dillon. But I was kind of hoping you wouldn't be here.

Dillon looked puzzled. Why not?

She bit her lip.I was hoping her memory was starting to fade. I was hoping her death would have gotten easier for you.

That's a nice thing for you to say.

The waitress brought the Vodka Collins. Donna took a small sip. Not really. I had selfish reasons.

He continued to look puzzled. You've really got me in the dark now.

She gave a short humorless laugh. And you're supposed to be a detective these days. Dillon, I was really sorry about what happened to Cynthia, I really was.

I know that.

Oh, Dillon. Don't you remember what we were to each other before you met Cynthia?

Of course I do. But then, as I remember, you broke up with me. Then I met Cynthia.

She smiled. That was my mistake. I didn't want to be a bartender's girl or wife. I thought you were better than that. Then you met her and I knew I had made a horrible mistake. But Dillon, she's gone for six years now. Is there any reason we can't get back together?

He looked startled. Are you serious?

"I always had hopes. But then you up and left town. I wish you had stayed. You come back every year and I