One plus One Equals More and Four Other Stories

By Stephannie Tallent

Having read Agatha Christie as a child, I was under the misconception that mystery stories had to include a murder.

They don't.

Although several of these short stories do have murders, the stories run the gamut from a holiday gone wrong to a woman starting a second career as a penetration security tester.

Stories include the title story, One Plus One Equals More; Saltwater; The Final Test of Maria Ramirez; Winning The Playa Real Bluffs Holiday Hop; and Of Cats and Assassins.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stephannie Tallent
• Release date: Dec 6, 2021
• ISBN: 9781942655336

Stephannie Tallent

Stephannie Tallent is a 1989 West Point graduate. Since then she's served in the Army as a Military Intelligence officer, gotten a Zoology degree, went to vet school, worked as a small animal veterinarian, and designed and published knitting patterns and books.Throughout all that she's always wanted to be a writer, and she's finally put all her type A, soft-spoken, liberal, invisible middle-aged woman focus on that goal, writing everything from fantasy to science fiction to mysteries to romance.Check out her website at www.stephannietallent.com.

Book preview

One and One Equals More

ONE AND ONE EQUALS MORE

AND FOUR OTHER SHORT STORIES

STEPHANNIE TALLENT

Original Tallent Press

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

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Copyright © 2021 by Stephannie Tallent

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All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.

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For more information, contact: [e-mail]

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First e-Book edition December 2021

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ebook ISBN: 978-1-942655-33-6

Print ISBN: 978-1-942655-34-3

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www.stephannietallent.com

To my mom, Carole: Thank you for introducing me to Ellery Queen and Agatha Christie!

CONTENTS

Introduction

Saltwater

The Final Test of Maria Ramirez

One Plus One Makes More

Of Cats and Assassins

Winning The Playa Real Bluffs Holiday Hop

About the Author

Also by Stephannie Tallent

INTRODUCTION

Having read Agatha Christie as a child, I was under the misconception that mystery stories had to include a murder.

They don't.

Welcome to my tenth collection.

Although several of these short stories do have murders, the stories run the gamut from a holiday gone wrong to a woman starting a second career as a penetration security tester.

Stories include the title story, One Plus One Equals More; Saltwater; The Final Test of Maria Ramirez; Winning The Playa Real Bluffs Holiday Hop; and Of Cats and Assassins.

Enjoy!

SALTWATER

November 8th, 11 a.m.

The late morning sky glowed orange through her ash-streaked living room window, backlighting the tall skinny pine trees and thick California oaks that surrounded and shaded her tiny 1940s farmhouse on the north end of Paradise.

A mob of smells assaulted Jenny: woodfire from burning trees and brush, sharp chemical taints from man-made things, the thick stink of petroleum products. Cars, houses, everything.

She could taste the smoke, deep in her throat. She gagged. The thin face mask she wore did nothing to block anything, taste or smell.

Her chest ached, breathing hurt, her eyes stung. Too dry to tear up anymore.

And she had to work faster. She thought she could hear a dull roar, the flames rushing closer. She saw a flash up on the ridge to the north. Someone’s propane tank? She counted seconds like counting the time between lightning and thunder. One-Mississippi, Two-Mississippi, Three-Mississippi....then the boom from the tank.

Her neighbors, John and Missy, had already fled thirty minutes ago, loading up their quarter horses Fred and Ginger in their trailer, stuffing their golden retrievers Mabel and Rusty into the narrow back seat of their dinged-up but reliable Ford 450. They’d left everything else behind, including John’s baby, his vintage 1963 Corvette that he’d restored over the past ten years. He was still working on the brakes. Couldn’t trust it, not yet roadworthy.

They had begged Jenny to ride with them.

She couldn’t.

Because of her baby. Horridly allergic to cats and dogs and everything else with fur, she had instead a 90-gallon saltwater aquarium, a reef tank, her pride and joy. Suited her better anyways as a retired marine biologist than a dog or a cat.

1000 lbs, give or take. Probably give, considering the sand, live rock, and all the filters and other equipment.

Not something she could just pick up and put into her beat up old Geo Metro. Shoot, the aquarium likely weighed more than the damn car.

She’d wrapped the live rock in towels, soaked with aquarium water, and placed it on the back floorboards of the Geo. She saved a little bit of sand, just a cup or two, in a ziplock with more water, and nestled it into the corner of her blue plastic cooler.

The fish and invertebrates went into their own individual ziplocks, with just enough water to give them enough room to turn around and have a little bit of water overhead. A few drops of an ammonia neutralizer. Blennies, Gobis, clown fish. Shrimp.

Fifteen different baggies to cram into the cooler.

She wished she had some oxygen, pure oxygen, to put in the baggies, but she didn’t. Smoke-tainted air would have to do.

If she had any moisture left in her eyes, she’d be sobbing. Most people thought fish just swam around and ate and pooped, but she knew each of her fish as individuals. Some were braver, some more timid, regardless of species propensities. Some greeted her eagerly, some were coy, peeking from behind a piece of coral.

Now they were all terrified, and she didn’t know how many she was going to lose.

She finally caught them all and got the baggies into the cooler, placing the bottle of ammonia neutralizing drops on top of the baggies. She hoped the cooler would be enough to insulate them, keep their water temperature even.

All she could do is hope.

She lugged the cooler to the Dutch front door, tripping over items she’d tossed around the living room, deciding what to try to bring with her. No to her dive gear, no to her power lifting trophies, no to all her dive and rescue certifications and diplomas, no to anything not essential. In the end, she’d just grabbed a small duffle and stuffed in her laptop and charger, a binder with important papers, a few changes of clothes, and her medication. Last thing she need was a flare up of reflux, and the smoke would only make her asthma worse.

She’d always planned on putting together an emergency kit, especially after the fires in Santa Rosa the previous year.

Planned, never did.

She could see, through the diamond paned windows of the top half of her front door, flickering flames devouring the pine tree tops on the far side of John’s sprawling ranch style house against the darkening charcoal sky. A blast of hot air baked her skin as she yanked open the door, picked up the cooler, and ran towards her car.

She tripped over the green garden hose she’d used earlier to wet down the shake shingles of her roof and the painted wooden siding