Incredible Witness

By J. D. Webb

A collection of thought-provoking, often humorous, suspenseful short stories guaranteed to entertain and intrigue the most discriminating reader.

One of our long-time authors has organized a collection of his short stories which includes:

Credible Witness - homeless veteran accused of murder has no hope of proving his innocence.

Stuck in Valhalla – a man from Rhode Island stops for gas and becomes a target to help complete a patriotic cemetery. Twilight Zone meets the Ozarks.

Turnabout Is Fair Play – a husband decides to terminate his wife after she tries to terminate him.

The Drifter – Todd Mitchel's wife and young son are killed. The occupants of the van who

impacted their car are fleeing from a robbery. Through a bungled investigation they will not be charged with the deaths. Todd won't let them go unpunished.

Premonition – A traveler's premonition proves prophetic

Final Conviction – Death row convict minutes away from execution waits for word from the governor.

Give Up the Ghost – A couple of ghost hunters travel to Europe to visit a haunted castle. It proves to be deadly and haunted.

The Key to Christmas – Bus driver collects Christmas donations for the Salvation Army. A key is dropped into his bucket. It could lead to a treasure if he could only figure out what the key unlocks.

And more.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wings ePress, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9781613092606

J. D. Webb

I have always written. Mostly short stories until I "retired" in 2002. Then I had three mysteries in trade paperback and eBook published by Wings ePress, Inc. My fourth book was Smudge is published by Wild Rose Press. My new book with Wild Rose is Bayou Chase to be released soon. I'm active in over 20 yahoo groups about writing and I own and moderate the Publishing and Promoting group with over 1000 authors and publishers worldwide providing a free source of tips and information pertaining to writing. I taught an online three-week course titled How to Add Suspense to Your Killer Novel for Savvy Authors in 2010 and 2014.

Book preview

J. D. Webb

––––––––

A Wings ePress, Inc.

Short Story Collection

Wings ePress, Inc.

––––––––

Edited by: Jeanne Smith

Copy Edited by: Christie Kraemer

Executive Editor: Jeanne Smith

Cover Artist: Trisha FitzGerald-Jung

––––––––

All rights reserved

Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

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 publisher.

Wings ePress Books

www.wingsepress.com

Copyright © 2022 by: J. D. Webb

ISBN: 978-1-61309-260-6

Published In the United States Of America

Wings ePress, Inc.

3000 N. Rock Road

Newton, KS 67114

Dedication

In 2006 my first two novels, Moon Over Chicago and Shepherd’s Pie, were published by Wings. I was a fledgling author terrified that no one would want to read what I had written. An extremely wise and gentle editor, Lorraine Stephens, guided me through the agonizing rewrite process and helped me become a professional author. I’ve never forgotten her thoughtful, inciteful leadership and still today find myself saying, Oh, Lorraine wouldn’t like that one. I’m ever thankful to her for helping me become a better writer. I wish she were still here to accept another hug.

Foreword

Writing has always been a part of me. Mostly short stories early. Reading brought me a vision of places and activities I could only dream about. It also nudged me to create my own visions and dare to put them onto paper. My wish became a goal: to complete a novel.

What could I offer that anyone would be interested in? Writing classes in school cautioned that you should only write what you know and are familiar with. Right away we had disagreement. I wanted to make my own places, my own activities, with characters I liked, with whom I could travel, conquer territories, defeat enemies, and become a hero just like those in childhood fairy tales.

So, I did.

Backword

Many books have a foreword and so does this one. Being who I am, I wondered why there was no backword in these volumes. It seemed only right and complete that once you have a foreword, a backword should logically follow. This is mine. Could be a first in publication history. I will not boast upon that possibility.

This backword revolves around my early writing efforts. The first story I can remember finishing came through high school. As a punishment for some act of mischief, I was somewhat famous for this in school, I was thrust into a creative writing class. It proved two things: One, I truly did like writing and was not bad at it. Two, it seemed some mischief received a reward, so I have never turned away an opportunity to delve into mischief ever since.

That first story was an assignment from my very literary creative writing teacher. Annually, our local paper sponsored a short story contest. Anyone could enter a story and local writers and teachers would read and rate the stories. Half of our semester grade was predicated on that entry, which was required. Even our teacher entered a story.

My teacher fancied himself a superior writer and looked upon humorous writing as not worthy of reading. I, of course, wrote entirely humor, at least attempting humor, and my grades hovered barely above acceptable.

Much to his dismay, I was honored with a fourth-place finish while his essay received only honorable mention. My grades did seem to improve, and my parents were both overwhelmed and overjoyed at my recognition. I probably should add positive recognition because there had been negative recognition in my sordid past.

So, I begin my anthology with my first story which has been edited to bring it up to date.

Cinderella Jones

Oh nuts! The power’s out.

My mother shouted this piece of information that everyone in the house had already been aware of. Sudden blackness surrounded the living room. Lightning flashed outside as a downpour threw heavy raindrops against the windows. Thunder had rattled the house five or six times in the last twenty minutes.

Hey, my game quit. Mom!

This eruption spewed from Richard, my nine-year-old, towheaded brother. Those were the only words spoken by him in the last two hours. It had been nirvana.

Don’t worry, Richard, it’ll come back in a couple of minutes. My mother was ever the optimist.

Fifteen minutes later, the house remained dark. And Richard was increasingly distraught.

I wanna play my game. It was uttered loudly and exactly duplicated his last twelve or thirteen sentences.

Richard, there’s nothing we can do about it except wait till the lights come back on. David, play with him.

Play what? Can’t see in the dark. I didn’t want to play board games with Richard. He refused to lose. It was getting harder and harder to find a way to let him win. I was tired of always saying, Boy, you’re good! when in fact he stunk at every game we had.

Tell him a story. I’m busy trying to figure out what to have for supper with no power.

Nuts! Okay, Richard, I’m going to tell you a fairy tale. I sat on the couch and had Richard sit on the floor in front of me.

What’s a fairy tale? What’s a fairy and how long is his tail? Richard popped his bubble gum, and it covered his lips.

A fairy tale is just a story that’s been told over and over for a long time. It is not a creature. The story is called a fairy tale.

Oh. Richard gathered up his gum and held it between his thumb and forefinger above his mouth. He sighted, and let it drop onto his outstretched tongue.

Let’s see. How about a story about Cinderella and her nasty stepsisters?

His eyes lit up. I like nasty stuff.

Finally, a success.

Once upon a time there lived a mean stepmother and her two daughters. They were nasty mean as well.

Yeah, nasty. His face twisted into a good approximation of nasty. Hard to do with a face full of freckles.

Also living with them was Cinderella. She was...

What was her last name? Richard’s nasty face morphed into inquisitiveness.

Cinderella didn’t have a last name, just Cinderella.

Come on, everybody has a last name. All the kids in my class have a last name. Even a couple of ‘em have more than one. It’s confusing.

In this story, it just happens that she doesn’t have one.

That’s stupid. Don’t like this story at all.

Okay! Jones. Her last name was Jones.

Hah. See I told ya.

Moving along. Cinderella JONES was treated badly by both stepsisters and her stepmom.

What was her stepmom’s name?

The whole family had determined that Richard would grow up to be a lawyer. He always had a question he wanted an answer to.

She didn’t have a n....Diane. Her name was Diane.

What was...?

Williams. Diane Williams. Her daughters were Pam and Joan. Okay?

Good.

Anyway, they made Cinderella do their cleaning, and laundry—all the crummy jobs around the house.

Did she hafta take out the dog?

They didn’t have a dog.

Oh, musta been poor, huh?

Yes, very poor. Well, the faraway land they lived in was ruled by a king who had a son and...

What was the king’s name?

Smith. King Smith and he had a son named Prince Smith.

Cool.

The king wanted to have a celebration for his son’s birthday, so they announced to everyone they were going to have a ball to celebrate.

What kinda ball was it? Basketball, soccer ball?

No, not that kind of ball. This ball is a dance. A big celebration dance is called a ball.

Why’s that? Richard had untied one shoelace and was trying to retie it with little success.

Just humor me here. In this story, a ball is a dance, okay?

Okay. But they coulda just called it a dance in the first place.

Dance! They were going to have a dance. The little twist to this story is that they wanted to invite all the eligible ladies to the dance so the prince could pick out a future bride.

Kinda like a auction? Was he gonna buy one?

No. It was just so the prince could see if there was a lady he was attracted to. Then he could go on a date with her to find out more about her.

"Oh, like The Bachelor on TV."

Well, sort of, I guess. But in this country, this was the way they did things back when they didn’t have TVs.

Gotcha.

Everyone in the land was excited to go to the ball..er..dance. But Cinderella was told she couldn’t go to the dance. She had to stay home and take care of the house. She was very sad. She would have liked to go.

She outta put Exlax in their orange juice. That’d fix ‘em.

Cinderella was not as mean as her stepsisters. She wouldn’t do that.

I would. It’s surprising that such thoughts came from a kid who looked so cute. The old saying about a book and its cover came to mind.

Anyway, the day of the dance came, and the stepsisters were making Cinderella do their makeup and helping them get ready to go. When they left, Cinderella sat on the hearth...

What’s a hearth?

It’s the edge of the fireplace which is what they used to heat their house because they didn’t have a furnace. Okay?

Yup.

She sat there crying when all of a sudden her fairy godmother appeared.

What...?

Henrietta. Henrietta Johnson. A fairy godmother is a magical person who has powers and can show up in a cloud.

I like her. A big bubble exploded, and he expertly licked it into his mouth.

She asked Cinderella what was wrong. Cinderella answered that she would like to go to the dance. And you know what the fairy godmother said?

Ya got any clothes ta wear?

No, she said Cinderella was going to the dance.

Right on!

But Cinderella said she didn’t have a gown to wear or any way to get to the dance.

Oops.

But the fairy godmother had a plan for her.

She let her use her car?

She didn’t have a car. She just waved her magic wand and went where she wanted to go. This time she waved her wand and, all of a sudden, Cinderella was in the most beautiful gown ever made.

What color was it?

Goodness, why don’t you just let me finish the story?

Just curious.

For sure. The dress was the bluest of blues. There was also this pair of glass slippers that Cinderella got. They fit only her feet, no one else’s. And the fairy godmother saw a pumpkin in the garden. She waved her wand again, and it became a coach. Which is a four-wheeled vehicle usually pulled by horses. Some mice were playing around the cottage, and when she waved her wand, they became horses.

That’s amazing. She’s good.

Well, then she needed a person to drive the coach to the dance. The gardener named Major Paterson was chosen to be the driver, and the fairy godmother gave him a fancy uniform to wear. But something else needed to be said.

Does Major have a driver’s license?

He’s got one. The fairy godmother’s spell would only last until midnight and then, everything would return to what they were before. Cinderella must return home by then.

Wow. So, she got to go.

Yes, and when Prince Smith saw how beautiful Cinderella was, he fell in love with her.

Did they have any food at the dance? I bet they were hungry.

Fortunately, the lights popped on and I finished the story.

"They both fell in love and