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Crime Stories: A Collection
Crime Stories: A Collection
Crime Stories: A Collection
Ebook79 pages53 minutes

Crime Stories: A Collection

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High school friends meet again, but they're on opposite sides of the law. Bookstore owners blackmail an author. A pickpocket's chance at an easy job goes all wrong. Be wary of hitchhikers. 17 crime fiction stories. Bonus poem. Previously published as Crime Tales: A Short Story Collection.

 

LanguageEnglish
Release dateApr 11, 2024
ISBN9798224390045
Crime Stories: A Collection
Author

K. A. Williams

North Carolinian K. A. Williams has had over 300 stories and poems published in many different magazines including SavagePlanets, The Creativity Webzine, Yellow Mama, The Blotter, Corner Bar, 5-7-5 Haiku Journal, View From Atlantis, The Sirens Call, Tigershark, and The Yard: Crime Blog. ​​ Apart from writing, K. A. enjoys music (especially classic rock), CYOA, and science fiction movies. 

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    Crime Stories - K. A. Williams

    Copyright Page

    Copyright © 2024/2022  K. A. Williams. All rights reserved. These stories are fictional and any resemblance to real people, places, or events is a coincidence. Previously published in 2022 by K. A. Williams as Crime Tales: A Short Story Collection. Revised - 2 stories removed and 3 added.

    Different Paths

    Rick leaned against his car and lit a joint. He had the radio on and was digging the music. Someone took a book from the trunk of the car beside his.

    Watcha doing? the other student asked.

    What does it look like I’m doing? Rick put the joint back to his lips and took another toke.

    It looks like you’re smoking weed, can I try it?

    Rick studied him. How old are you?

    I’m 16.

    Really? You don’t look that old. You gotta name?

    Jack.

    Rick smiled. Okay, Jack. He handed him the joint.

    Jack inhaled and hacked his head off.

    Rick took the joint back and cackled. Do you like this song on the radio? It’s one of my favorites.

    Jack listened. Yeah, it’s groovy, I dig their sound. Which band is it?

    Guess Who.

    Uh, I have no idea what band that is.

    No, I mean the band’s name is The Guess Who.

    Oh, right.

    So, Jack, do you have a favorite band?

    Yes.

    Rick waited a second, but Jack didn’t say anything else, so he asked, "Well, aren’t you gonna tell me the name of your favorite band?"

    I did. It’s Yes.

    Oh. They’re okay. Rick checked his watch. We should be getting back to class. The lunch break is almost over. By the way, my name’s Rick.

    The phone rang in Jack’s room. He turned the volume down on his receiver and watched The Yes Album whirl around on the turntable in silence. Hello?

    It’s Rick. We’ll have to call off our summer road trip, I’ve been drafted.

    Me too, man.

    Sorry to hear that. What a bummer.

    My parents are out of town. Come over and let’s get high.

    Rick was sweating, he hated having an assignment in his hometown. He peered at the foreign prime minister through the telescopic rifle sight when the man came outside. His finger tightened on the trigger, and he took a shot. A plainclothes cop shoved the prime minister away at the last possible second and the bullet impacted the door behind. The cop currently in his sights was looking straight at him. It was Jack.

    Rick lowered the rifle and held it tightly as he jumped onto the roof of the adjacent building. He climbed quickly down the fire escape. Rick was sure Jack recognized the blue Cubs baseball cap he always wore.

    His car was waiting in the alley, and he sped out of the city into the country. Another car was in hot pursuit. Rick knew it was Jack, especially when one of his tires was shot. They were both expert marksmen. He fought the weaving car and guided it off the road, stopping at the edge of a wheat field. He jumped out and ran through the tall wheat, bending down, until he tripped and fell. He stayed where he had fallen. It was windy and the wheat was moving, so he didn’t think Jack had pinpointed his exact location.

    Jack’s car had a cassette deck. Loud music interrupted the silence. Rick recognized The Guess Who song. He remained still; the music made it impossible for him to hear anything at all. Jack wouldn’t find him, not if he stayed still.

    Side one of the tape ended. Rick was nervous, he had to do something; he couldn’t just keep lying on his stomach. He pulled himself up slowly into a crouching position and tried to see over the wheat without exposing himself. Nothing was moving now, except him. He decided to bluff. I see you, Jack. I’ve got you in my sights. Drop your gun, and I won’t shoot you.

    "I think that’s my line, Jack said, from behind him. I had no idea you were an assassin."

    Rick laid the rifle down on the ground, he’d never planned to kill Jack. It’s not my fault the army trained me to be one. Since I’ve been caught, I’ll be disavowed and won’t live long enough for a trial. Do you plan to shoot me? Is that why you played the American Woman album for me first?

    "Of course not. I

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