Murder by Design

By David Paffrath and Tim Conley

Peter was born without a father figure, but at a young age felt the hand of discipline from his Mother's friends. Broken bones and concussion make a mark on a young lad and Peter grew up troubled. But he was a young man when life dealt him a series of really cruel blows. In and out of jail and court, he was very confused and beginning to doubt whether he really deserved to live. That is why he climbed the mountain - to stand on top and decide his fate. Read & Enjoy!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tim Conley
• Release date: Aug 13, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005984571

David Paffrath

David Paffrath is a Special Education teacher for Santa Clara County in San Jose, California. He reads extensively and has become the source for some great murder mysteries. Murder by Design is one of them. In 2013 David gave me the story line and I proceeded to ghostwrite the tale.David is from Montana and plans to retire to his hometown in the not too distant future. He spent five years in the Navy before going to college to get his teaching certificate and has taught Special Ed children since graduating. He is very helpful in his community and volunteers regularly with various charities.David has a keen, analytical mind that anticipates the twists and turns of the criminal mind. His plot twists are essential to any believable modern who-done-it.

Book preview

Murder by Design

Written by: Tim Conley & David Paffrath

Copyright © 2013 Tim Conley

Dragon’s Breath Publishing

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 1-4827-7908-0

ISBN-13: 978-1-4827-7908-0

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

About the Author

Acknowledgements

Ghostwriter

Dedication

Other Books

DEDICATION

David Paffrath is a Special Ed (Autism) teacher in San Jose, California and damned good at his job. He is single and reads a lot. Because of his wide range of reading – he has some good storylines running around in his head. This happens to be one of them and is dedicated to David.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would certainly be remiss if I didn’t tout the talent of Tim Conley in laying down a good story. Tim’s ability to see an ending before he begins a project enables him in creating characters and situations that are highly believable. He has already published 25 books (sci-fi, horror, poetry, biography, fantasy and historical fiction) and is constantly looking for new ideas on old twists and turns of everyday life.

C1 The Birthing

Elizabeth (Dot) Barstow had been pregnant since forever. She felt as if the waiting was never going to end. Especially since they had wheeled her into the birthing room and just left her there. She wanted to scream for someone to come and check her but that stubborn streak that had earned her the nickname of Dot came to the fore. While her other friends were characterized as lines and circles – she was the one who always stood firm and didn’t waver in her beliefs in herself and her surroundings.

Now she was regretting being that way. She wanted someone to come and take care of her – at least to remove the bowling ball from her middle that was causing her so much pain. Another spasm shocked her system as she thought about and she couldn’t help but scream.

An orderly finally stuck his head into the room and inquired if she was doing all right. Her language left little doubt in his mind that she was not. He quickly ducked out and reported to the nursing station that she was probably just about ready. That woman knows some words that would make a sailor blush, he said flippantly as he continued past the station and continued his rounds.

He swung back by her room later and there was a commotion within the room, so he continued. He heard the scream of new life and smiled because the hard part of over for the lady. Now she would have just another eighteen years to regret that one moment of orgasm that had led her into the birthing room to start with.

Dot took the little bundle of joy home with her when she was released three days later. It almost felt like she brought home a new puppy into her big house. It had been so quiet when she left to go to the hospital. Now there was the mewling of a hungry or dirty baby. And her with no help.

She collapsed on her overstuffed couch and marveled that she could now see her feet again. That was something she had missed while she was pregnant. That’s something I don’t need to experience again, she mused as she waited for the crying that would indicate her tiny package was aware of his surroundings once more.

The ringing of the phone jangled her nerves and she rushed over to pick it up. Her mother was on the other end. Honey, we were told they had let you go home. Why didn’t they keep you longer? You could have used the rest.

Now, Mother. Don’t start. I’ll be all right here, and no one will bother me every two hours to tell me it’s time for next feeding. I can set the alarm for myself and besides he wakes up every couple of hours on his own. We will be fine.

I could come down there if you would just let me, Madge countered. It has been such a long time since I left your father alone by himself. He could use some time alone, if you ask me. Might make him a bit more appreciative of everything I do around here.

Mom, when are you going to start thinking about anyone but yourself? You know Dad loves you and appreciates everything you do.

How could he not. Since he landed in that wheelchair my life has been turned upside down.

And I guess you’d be more comfortable if he had just gone on ahead and checked out.

I didn’t say that. You are being unfair putting words in my mouth like that.

Really, Mother! You don’t have to listen to you but a couple minutes to know how you feel about him. Just stay there. He needs you more than I do. I can take care of Peter and myself.

Why did you have to go and name him that? I mean, really? It wasn’t enough that your father’s name was Peter but that you have to saddle your son with that name.

Good night, Mother. I’ll call before we come for a visit. Might be a while.

Dot turned off the phone and stared out the window for several moments before her head came up at the first cry from her new son. A fine boy who had been named after his grandfather and the guy who had gotten her pregnant. Peter Dwayne rolled off her tongue as she headed for the bedroom and picked up her son.

Your grandmother doesn’t understand how much I love you, she whispered to him as he suckled and made noises of contentment.

C2 Age 3 – Broken Bones

Boyfriends came and went. Peter lost count at an early age of the uncles who suddenly appeared and then just as suddenly disappeared. His mother dressed only in her white slip was a constant in his young life but for hours at a time even she was shut out of his life. Her door was closed, and he learned that even when he stood outside it and cried – the door would not open for him.

Peter wasn’t old enough to comprehend loneliness, but he knew it hurt. And the hurt became painfully apparent to him when one of those uncles took exception to him standing outside the bedroom door. Peter had just stopped his silent sobbing when the door opened, and a large man appeared in front of him.

He tried to duck the blow that he saw coming but could not. His ears rang painfully as his small body was swept into the corner by the railing and he felt his arm crunch underneath him. The monster stood over him and demanded he shut his hole. Peter screamed and Mama finally made her way past the man to pick him up.

She carried him into her bedroom and his tiny body responded to the feel of her holding him close to her slip covered body. He relished in the feeling of her closeness and almost didn’t mind the fact that his little arm was fractured. He could have stayed in her arms forever.

But even that was not to be. She hurriedly dressed, after setting him on the bed, grabbed her purse and keys and whisked him out to the car. He protested that his arm hurt as she just strapped him into the front seat and tore out of the driveway.

Fifteen minutes later he was sitting on a sterile table and allowing a man in a purple lab coat to examine his arm. The man’s hands were cold, but his voice was warm as he investigated the bruise that was already forming underneath Peter’s skin.

Peter winced as the man pressed in certain places on his arm and the man told him that he would have to wear a cast for an extended period of time. Maybe your Mom can get all your friends to sign it for you. What do you think about that?

Peter shrugged his small shoulders. He didn’t have any friends. Was he supposed to? He wondered what they would be like. His mother never allowed him to go outside and he had no concept that there was anything that he was missing until that moment.

On the way home his mother stopped at the ice cream store and Peter got his first taste of a confection he would hold in high esteem for the rest of his life. He dove into the sweetness of the cone held close in front of his face by his good hand and forgot for a while about the reason he was sitting there eating it.

His mother’s keening brought him back to reality a while after they arrived home. Apparently, the uncle had fled – taking any pleasure she could have gleaned from the situation away from her. She slammed the door to her bedroom and didn’t come out until after the sun had gone down.

Peter was laying on the couch – soundly sleeping. She crossed over to him and covered him up. Then she sat on the end of the couch and held her arms around her own body and silently repented of the fact that she had ever had anyone else who depended upon her.

Extremes had become part of her life. She had to have the physical sensation of having a man lying on top of her – forcing her body into that realm where she had to respond to him. She had to have it. Nothing else in life gave her the amount of pleasure she felt when a man was inside her demanding that she respond.

She shivered and held onto what little self-esteem that remained and gazed over at the small child who depended upon her. Sometimes she felt elation that he was in her life and then at times she resented the fact that she had to work around his needs.

She had needs. Desperate and hotly contesting needs that could only be filled by one thing. Sex – and that was how she came to have him. She couldn’t say no to his father and had spread her legs open to him as often as he demanded, and he demanded a lot. She smiled as she remembered how deeply he liked to drive himself into her.

Dot knew that if Dwayne suddenly showed up at her door – she would throw her legs open again to him. And now she had to find someone to take his place for the night. She reached over to her purse and rummaged inside – looking for her little black book.

Sometime later a soft knock occurred at the door and Dot raced to open it. One of her regular studs stood at the door and she let him in. Moments later she was forgetting Dwayne and his son as she spread her legs as far apart as they would go and