Twelve Miles to Midnight

By Harold E. Hughes

It was an early crisp fall morning in New England when Carolyn Watson went downstairs to prepare coffee and a light breakfast. She still had on her knee-length blue cotton knit gown and was putting on her matching robe. Walking through the den, she noticed that her husband, Paul, had a small fire in the fireplace, helping to take the morning chill out of the room. Carolyn passed by the bay window, and as she did, she saw Paul in the backyard, working on the lights in the gazebo. They would need the lights tonightif it was not too coolfor sitting outside after dinner with the two couples they had invited over for the evening. In the valley below their house, there was a light ground fog, and the leaves were just beginning to turn into fall colors. She and Paul had found the two-story, red-brick house located on ten acres after they were engaged. They both fell in love with the house and bought it shortly after they were married. It was located about ten miles from the small New England town of Mountain Springs, whose streets were lined with antique and small clothing shops. Several white-painted churches with their tall steeples located throughout the New England countryside presented a quaint, peaceful small city. The tree-lined streets gave aromatic setting to the city, especially in the fall. To Carolyn, everything seemed almost perfect.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 14, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524532000

Harold E. Hughes

Harold E. Hughes grew up in a railroad town in East Texas. Growing pine trees on a farm that belonged to his grandparents, he was raised in Palestine just twelve miles from there. Harold married his high school sweetheart during the third year of college at the University of Houston. Upon graduation from college, he accepted a job with the Criminal Investigation Division of the Internal Revenue Service. After twenty-seven years with the IRS, he retired and worked several years on a contract basis with the Bureau of Diplomatic Security, US Department of State. After leaving the Department of State, Harold accepted a similar position with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. He worked for the FBI for almost sixteen years. When his wife of over fifty years passed away, Harold decided that he needed something to do to keep his mind active. Thus, writing a book was a natural. He was always interested in writing a book, even in the years when he was busy working. Twelve Miles to Midnight is an accumulation of thoughts and ideas stored in his mind for a number of years. He decided that it was finally time to dust the cobwebs off and try to see if he could write. After this book, Harold is planning to write a true story.

Book preview

Copyright © 2016 by Harold Hughes.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2016912856

ISBN:   Hardcover        978-1-5245-3202-4

             Softcover          978-1-5245-3201-7

             eBook               978-1-5245-3200-0

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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 any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 01/18/2017

Xlibris

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

744314

Contents

Chapter 1 The Man At The Door

Chapter 2 Tragedy

Chapter 3 A Knock At The Door

Chapter 4 A Surprise

Chapter 5 Sheriff Cliff Jenkins

Chapter 6 Incident At The Junkyard

Chapter 7 The Second Lock Box

Chapter 8 Shadows In The Garden

Chapter 9 A Morning Announcement

Chapter 10 Supper And Gunfire

Chapter 11 Uninvited Visitors

Chapter 12 Gunfire At The Hotel

Chapter 13 Climax

Epilogue

Dedicated to the memory of Lily Ann,

my beloved wife of more than

fifty-one years.

CHAPTER 1

The Man at the Door

It was an early crisp fall morning in New England when Carolyn Watson came downstairs to prepare coffee and a light breakfast. She still had on her knee-length blue-cotton knit gown and was putting on her matching robe. Walking through the den, she noticed that her husband, Paul, had a small fire in the fireplace helping to take the morning chill out of the room. Carolyn passed by the bay window and as she did, she saw Paul in the backyard working on the lights in the gazebo. They would need the lights tonight, if it was not too cool, to sit outside after dinner with the two couples they had invited over for the evening. In the valley below their house, there was a light ground fog, and the leaves were just beginning to turn into fall colors. She and Paul had found the two-story red brick house located on ten acres after they were engaged. They both fell in love with the house and bought it shortly after they were married. It was located about ten miles from the small New England town of Mountain Springs, whose streets were lined with antique and small clothing shops. Several white painted churches with their tall steeples located throughout the New England country sides presented a quaint peaceful small city. The tree-lined streets gave aromatic setting to the city, especially in the fall. To Carolyn, everything seemed almost perfect.

Carolyn opened the back door leading onto the patio and called, Paul, how about a cup of coffee with me before I go to town? I need to pick up a few things for tonight.

Paul replied, Sounds good. I will be in as soon as I finish connecting this light switch.

Carolyn was an attractive woman, standing about 5'7" with straight blonde corn-silk hair which came to her shoulders. She had blue eyes and her lips, although not large, were sensuous appearing. Carolyn still had a very good figure at her weight of 135 pounds.

Carolyn, leaning against the kitchen counter, thought back to when she and Paul had met eight years ago on a cool morning, similar to this particular one. They had both been attending different conferences at the same hotel in upstate New York. Paul, although in his late forties, had never been married. He was a mathematics professor at the local college in the city where they now lived. Carolyn was a school teacher, and her former husband, Jack McCall, had also been a teacher at a high school. However, when Jack became ill with cancer, Carolyn quit teaching so that she could take care of him. After Jack died, Carolyn had moved back home with her parents while trying to decide what career path she might pursue besides teaching. Carolyn was attending an employment workshop when she met Paul. She and Paul seemed to be a good match right from the start, despite an age difference of more than twelve years.

Paul opened the door, interrupting Carolyn’s reverie, and said to Carolyn, What are you doing just standing there? I thought you said coffee was ready. Carolyn smiled and replied, It’s getting there. Cinnamon rolls are in the oven and will be ready in a minute. Anyway, I was just standing here thinking of how we met and how fate seemed to have brought us together at that conference. We have been married eight years, and you have never really told me what you did in those years before we met.

Paul laughed and said, I told you that I led a boring life as a college professor. I was an only child, grew up in Tennessee, attended college on a baseball scholarship, and my parents are deceased. I have two cousins that live on the West Coast that I keep in touch with about once a year by email.

Carolyn smiled and answered, Yes, I know. You are the typical bachelor college professor. Except, of course, you’re married and there are those occasional trips that you take and never take me with you. I really do not know any of your colleagues except for those here in town.

Paul replied, You would not enjoy a meeting of college professors. Hardly any of them bring their wives. Besides, those meetings are boring. But you will have to admit, we do take several vacations a year and go to some very nice places.

Carolyn said, Yes, I know. But still it would be nice to go with you. Laughing she said, I can always go shopping.

Paul smiled, but did not reply.

Carolyn then said, Never mind. Come on, let’s have some coffee and some cinnamon rolls before I go to town to get the things I need for the party tonight.

Paul followed Carolyn to the table and said, Well, I don’t know what all you need. We are just going to have some of our friends over to eat, have a few drinks, and visit. It should be a quiet evening with some good conversation. Hopefully, it won’t be too cool to sit in the gazebo. I would hate to think that I’m doing this work for nothing.

Carolyn replied, You know how women are. Things have to be just right. Anyway, Bill and Nancy have never been to our home, and I want things to look nice. I will not be gone long. I have a list in the bedroom of a few things I want to get.

Paul replied, Good. I have one stop that you can make for me at the hardware store. I need another socket for the gazebo.

They had just sat down at the table with their coffee and a cinnamon roll. Carolyn heard the unmistakable ‘potato-potato-potato’ sound of a Harley-Davidson motorcycle as it turned into their drive. A moment later after it stopped, the doorbell rang. Paul said he would get the door while Carolyn got her list of things she needed from town. Paul went to answer the door as Carolyn took one more sip of coffee before taking the opportunity to go to the bedroom. She looked longingly at the barely eaten cinnamon roll as she left the table.

Carolyn started to the bedroom to get her list. She passed by Paul who was standing in the partly open door, talking in low tones to the man at the door. Carolyn only caught a glimpse of the man Paul was talking to and thought he looked strangely familiar. The man was rather