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 the while, he falls in love with Connie Stewart, his one-date high school classmate who may conceal a secret or two herself.
Chapter 12
I had just walked into the Alfa office Tuesday morning when Nell, the eccentric secretary and the only carry-over from the time the company was known as Farm Bureau, said, “a Connie Stewart just called you. I left you a message on your desk.”
It wasn’t 8:00 a.m. and the tall and lovely Connie was good to her promise. I walked inside my office and laid my briefcase on the edge of my desk and sat down. The pink phone message said, “Call her back within the next hour or late afternoon. She will be working in her yards most all day.” I couldn’t quite see the naturally tanned Connie setting out flowers and shoveling mulch. She seemed the type to have a yardman do the hard and dirty work while she lay out beside the pool. If she had a pool.
Before I dialed her number, I took a side trip. I pulled out my Marshall County phone book and scoured all three columns of S’s. There she was, Connie Stewart, 468 Sandor Drive. I didn’t recognize the street name. Within a few seconds Google Maps revealed it as a connecting street between Ross and Lindo Drive in the Boaz Country Club area, the section developed in the early seventies. My mind spun up an image formed just a couple of weeks ago. I had conducted a home visit with an older couple who lived on the corner of Ross Drive. After the interview, one producing a $150,000 annuity sale, I had driven in the opposite direction from where I had arrived. I now knew I had driven Sandor Drive and had noticed a beautiful white-brick, ranch style home. The home’s neatness and beauty were certainly accentuated by the lovely landscaping. To me, it now seemed the sixty-plus year-old Connie invested a considerable amount of time in her home and yard. I guess that was reasonable since she didn’t have a man around to distract her.
“Connie, it’s Fred. I’m sorry I missed your call.”
“No problem. I just figured you were an early riser, being a farm boy.” She no doubt remembered my growing up years out in the country because of her friendship with Deidre.
“Don’t mention it, that brings back some backbreaking memories. Is now a good time to talk?”
“It is. I’m ready to decide on that long-term health care policy we talked about Sunday night. That issue is consuming my thinking. I want to know if I can afford a good policy. If not, then I need to forget it. I have other things to deal with.” Connie said.
“We can move on it at your convenience. The process involves Alfa’s underwriting department reviewing your medical history. Of course, this assumes you submit an application for coverage.” I wanted Connie to know I was ready when she was.
“Would you mind coming here? I would prefer a private meeting instead of meeting in your office. No offense intended of course, I’m just a little weird that way.” Connie said. I thought I heard her whispering something in the background. Maybe I was wrong about her, maybe she had a boyfriend or something. Gosh, I never considered that she might be lesbian. Maybe that’s why she never married. Traditionally, that is.
“Whatever works best for you.”
“This might be asking too much but could you come now? I really want to deal with this as soon as possible.”
“I’m flexible this morning. No appointments and just a pile of paperwork. The latter can wait. What is your address?” I didn’t want her to think I could just jump in my car and drive straight to her. I needed to play this on the cool side. Sixty-four years old and I was concerned about being cool. What an idiot I could be.
“Four sixty-eight Sandor Drive. That’s in Boaz Country Club.”
“I think I know where that is. I was in that neighborhood a few weeks ago. Should I drive over? Now?”
“Please. Just come on in the front door, I’ll leave it unlocked. Molly and I will be straight back in the sun room.”
I had Nell pull Alfa’s long-term health packet from a row of filing cabinets along the back wall. The packet included a colorful brochure reflecting people of all ages, intending to softly influence someone into protecting their families hard-earned assets from decimation due to the high cost of living too long. The packet also included the application, a HIPPA form (medical information release authorization), and all related forms to submit to underwriting.
At 8:15, I was gently pushing open Connie’s front door that she had left just barely cracked. I walked in a large foyer and could see sunlight streaming into a large den from the room Connie had mentioned. I announced my appearance and started walking across the den noticing a room full of expensive antiques.
“Come on back.” It was the soft but commanding voice of the woman who had always intimidated me. What in heck was I doing here? Now, I was thoroughly confounded by the woman who was such a mystery back in high school.
As soon as I entered the sun room I saw Molly. Laying across Connie’s lap, as she sat in a swing along the back wall. Molly too was gorgeous, but in a different sort of way.
“Fred, meet Molly. Pet her head and let her smell your hand for just a few seconds. She’ll warm to you easily since I’m giving her permission.” I learned Molly was a black Yorkie.” I complied with Connie’s instructions and then sat down in a love seat perpendicular to the swing.
“She’s beautiful. How long have you had her?” I asked, wanting to be polite but also not wanting to do anything to offend Connie. I rarely walked on egg shells around anyone, but again, Connie was intimidating.
“Thirteen years. She’s getting old. She constantly battles bronchitis and has had cataract surgery on both eyes. It’s going to kill me when she’s gone.”
“Pets, especially dogs, change your life. Susan and I had Golden Retrievers for over thirty years. They, like Yorkies, make wonderful companions.”
“I was so sorry to hear about Susan. You two were a beautiful couple. I know it still must be difficult though it’s been, what, five years?” Connie asked.
“It will be this September. Moving home to Boaz has helped a lot. I had to get away from Huntsville. Everywhere I went I saw Susan. We had lived there since a few months after I graduated from law school.”
Connie and I continued to reminisce out in the sun room for nearly thirty minutes. Finally, she suggested we move to the dining room where we could talk business. She was quick to absorb the key features of Alfa’s health policy and by 9:00 she was ready to complete the application. I was a little surprised she hadn’t balked when I told her the premium was nearly $5,000 per year. Clearly, she had done her research and had already decided to make the investment if she could find a policy that offered continually increasing benefits set to match the rise in the consumer price index. I was thankful Alfa had pioneered such a feature.
We were finalizing the application when Connie said that Rebecca Rawlins was also interested in this type policy. Apparently, Connie had called Rebecca right after we had gotten off the phone. I thought it was strange, given the timing. I knew Elton’s funeral was this afternoon. I think Connie saw in my face that I was puzzled.
“I think I mentioned to you how close Rebecca and I are and have been since high school. We talk about everything. And, I don’t think it is a secret around town that Rebecca and Elton were not that close. To put it bluntly, she’s ready to get on with her life. That sounds cold doesn’t it, especially since the woman hasn’t yet buried her husband.”
I continued to think this turn in conversation was odd, maybe even disrespectful, but wanted to know more. “I was surprised when I heard Elton died. From what I knew he was improving. The heart attack, and when it happened, certainly was tragic.”
“To me, the car wreck was where the real tragedy was avoided. But I am partial to Rebecca. Elton wasn’t supposed to be driving. He had passed out back two or three months ago and by law was not allowed to drive for at least six months. If Rebecca had been driving, she would have certainly been the one being buried.” Connie said.
“I haven’t heard anything about the accident. What exactly happened?” I asked.
“They were returning from Gulf Shores and got t-boned in Foley, right on the main drag. You know where Lambert’s Restaurant is? That intersection between it and the Hampton Inn.”
“Sounds like Elton might have run that red light.”
“That’s what I thought to begin with, but seems like several witnesses saw it happen. They say he clearly had the right of way. Since I watch many crime shows on TV and Netflix I think it was intentional. Crazy thought uh?”
“Connie’s statement perked my ears and my mind. For whatever reason, one I think might have been what Dad had said during Sunday’s lunch, something like, “she’s already murdered three husbands,” speaking of Rebecca, my mind wanted to agree with Connie’s declaration.
In less than five minutes all the paperwork was complete, and Connie had encouraged me to call Rebecca, tomorrow if I could. I loaded my briefcase with the brochure and all the forms and stood up. Connie walked me to the front door and called for Molly to come. She had, by orders, remained in the sun room as Connie and I had transferred to the dining room.
“Tell Mr. Fred bye.” Connie said reaching down for an eager Molly.
“It was very nice meeting you Molly. I hope to see you again soon.” I wanted to crawl in a hole. Quickly. Why I had phrased my statement that way I will never know. It was like a less-than-subtle hint to Connie that I would like to come back. I just as quickly added. “I’ll see you when I bring Miss Connie’s policy.” A lawyer must be quick on his feet.
I glanced at Connie and there was that perpetual smile. This time she had added a slight rise of an eyebrow. I tried to ignore it. “Let me know if you need more information. Also, I assume you will call me when the policy is issued?”
“I will. We will need to meet again. It won’t take long. I like to review the final policy with you and Alfa requires you sign a receipt.” I said, feeling more confident.
“Just call me when it arrives.”
“I will. And, thanks for putting your confidence in Alfa Insurance Company.” It was a line I always used. It was a statement I truly meant. Connie, and all my other clients, didn’t have to choose Alfa. There were a dozen other strong insurance companies they could choose just as easily.
“And in you.” Connie said. “I’m confident you wouldn’t mislead me, that you are a man of your word. That’s very important to me.”
Awkwardly, I shook Connie’s hand and again thanked her. I walked out on her front porch and was turning to walk down the steps onto her sidewalk when she said. “Be sure and call me.” I looked towards her and saw that sly smile, more sly than usual. Somehow her smile and something about how she was leaning against the frame of her front door emboldened me.
“I won’t make that mistake again.” I was kind of glad I said it, but then I didn’t know what to do. Our eyes locked for just a few seconds, and I turned and walked back to my car.
The Pencil-Driven Life 