The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.
The Boaz Safecracker, written in 2019, is my seventh novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.
Book Blurb
Fred Martin, a 1972 graduate of Boaz High School, returns to his hometown after practicing law and living in Huntsville for over thirty-five years with two goals in mind. First, to distance himself from the loss of Susan, his wife of thirty-seven years who died in 2013 of cancer. And second, to partner with his lifelong friend, Noah Waters, to crack the safes of Elton Rawlins and Doug Barber, two men who got under their skin as high school football players.
Little did Fred and Noah realize the secrets the two old Mosler safes protected. Who murdered three Boaz High School seniors in the fall of 1973? Is a near-half-century-old plan to destroy Fred’s sister and steal the inheritance from a set of 44-year-old illegitimate twins still alive and well? How far would Fred’s mother go to protect her family?
What starts out as an almost innocent prank, turns life-threateningly serious the more Fred learns and the more safes he cracks. All, while he falls in love with Connie Stewart, his one-date high school classmate who may conceal a secret or two herself.
Chapter 5
Wednesday afternoon I headed to the Boaz Public Library. I was glad to be out of the office. Tuesday was my day, 8:00 a.m. until 5:00 p.m., to man the walk-in desk. I was one of five agents in the Boaz Alfa office. I had much rather be out in the field calling on existing clients and prospects than being stuck behind a desk.
My work life, now, was radically different than my first career. In January 1980, six months after graduating from the University of Alabama Law School, I had started work for King and Hart, P.C. in Huntsville. For the next thirty-four years I spent most of my time either at my desk or in court. There was no time I could really call my own. I resigned March 21, 2014, six months after another significant day in my life. Susan died of breast cancer September 18, 2013. During this period, I was virtually worthless. Most days I was at work but sat staring into space. The kind and generous Bart King and Jeff Hart would have probably let me grieve forever on their dime but finally the day came I knew I had to leave both my job and mine and Susan’s Huntsville home.
The Boaz Public Library was relatively new. A beautiful two-story colonial style building on Thomas Avenue had replaced the old and antiquated facility on South Main. Truly a treasure for such a small town like Boaz. The head librarian wasn’t so new. Nancy Frasier had inspired many a reader for nearly sixty years. She was now in her eighties and could still, from memory, on instant notice, relate what books were on her shelves. Other media was a different story, so the sweet and saintly Nancy referred me to Brenda Yates, the library’s electronic master.
In less than five minutes Brenda had me sitting before a microfiche machine and about a dozen boxes of Sand Mountain Reporter slides from the 1970’s in a dark room under the winding oak staircase. Ever since Sunday night I had not been able to get the mauve-colored letter secreted in the Rawlins’ safe out of my mind. A phone call yesterday to Noah had given me the direction I now pursued.
I started my search with the May 25, 1974 newspaper. The date hand-written on the bottom of the Rebecca Rawlins’ secret letter was May 27, 1974. I had checked. That was a Monday. I knew from my own life-long experience with Dad’s subscription, the Sand Mountain Reporter newspaper was published three times per week, including Saturday. I was glad the Library had the latest technology. Their microfiche machine was what was called search-capable. This allowed me to enter a query and the machine would direct me to an article, ad, or photo caption that included the best response to my question. I was out of luck. There were no responses or hits for any of my key words. I had used Rebecca, Rebecca Aldridge (Noah had told me her maiden name), and even Randy Miller (no kin to Susan as far as I knew).
It was 1:35 p.m. For the next three hours I looked backwards through every edition of the Sand Mountain Reporter, crossing over into 1973. I had just returned from a rabbit trail concerning the Boaz Christmas Parade held on Friday, December 7, 1973 when I entered ‘Rebecca Aldridge’ on the query line for the previous day’s newspaper. Her name was listed, along with half-a-dozen others, under a photo of a giant bonfire. Before reading the full caption or the article I assumed the event was related to a football game, a big pep-rally. Then, I realized the date seemed off for that.
I read the full article twice, a little surprised that I had never heard the story. Correctly, this time, I realized that I was a student living in Auburn, Alabama when the photo was taken, and the article was written. In current day terms the whole thing seemed rather silly. Rebecca and four of her high school classmates had been arrested for burning Bibles. The scene had taken place on the back side of the sorghum cane field next to Boaz High School. It was on school property. Halfway through my first reading I had assumed this was probably why the five had been arrested. This was not the case. After a slower and more methodical reading, it was clear the arrest had been made to protect the five from a near blood-thirsty mob.
The article didn’t explain exactly how things had gotten out of hand, nor how the community had known what the five were up to. The last line of the article quoted Randy Miller, youth pastor at First Baptist Church of Christ, who said, “a few hundred years ago witches were burned at the stake. These five young people better be glad the fine citizens of Boaz are giving them another chance to honor and glorify God.” I thought it was an odd statement especially after the reporter had used a long paragraph to describe how the Boaz Police had to threaten the use of Billy-clubs to nearly a dozen local men and women.
After reading and pondering the article, I wanted to continue my search, but I was out of time. I had a 5:30 appointment with the new owner of Sand Mountain Tire and Muffler concerning medical insurance for his employees. I didn’t need to be late.
The Pencil-Driven Life 