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 16
The next ten days drug by. With the growing routine of work, church, suppers and dinners at Mom’s, and a couple more email exchanges with Luke, it was finally the day I had been looking forward to. Late yesterday afternoon Connie’s policy had arrived by courier. I had called her immediately after verifying the home office had gotten everything right. Once again, she had wanted me to come early, before she headed out to her yard. And, once again, she instructed me to come in through her unlocked front door and back to the sun room.
As promised, I arrived at 8:00 a.m. The Thursday edition of the Sand Mountain Reporter was laying on her front porch, so I picked it up and eased inside. A faint creaking of the door or a silent alarm must have aroused the tall and shapely Connie. I was halfway through the giant den when she appeared. With the sun’s assistance, she looked like an angel. There was something about how the incoming rays engulfed her shoulders creating the look of white and fluffy wings. But, it was the shorts, rather the tanned legs coming out of the shorts, that got the most attention. I still was shocked how this 62-year-old creature could still look so good. Of course, I knew that a man’s eye for beauty evolves as he grows older, but I couldn’t help but believe that if I were a sixteen-year-old kid (heck, a thirty-year-old man) standing here, I would be hard pressed not to fantasize how this lovely creature would look naked.
“Come on back. Mollie and I made us some coffee. She’s already had hers.” I complied fully, sitting in the same seat beside her swing noticing a small card table had been added to the room’s arrangement. I wondered if the less gorgeous Mollie drank coffee.
“Thanks, I could use another cup. It’s been one of those mornings.” I said, needing to say something that had little meaning.
“Cream and sugar, or Sweet-n-Low?”
“Black is fine.”
As she handed me my cup I think she caught me staring at her hair. It was a cross between brown and brunette. It was silky and just long enough for her to pull it up in a short pony tail to the back of her head. This accentuated her neck, but I dared not go there. She smiled as she turned her attention to the card table, pulling it up to us. I laid my notebook and Connie’s policy folder on top. “I hope you don’t mind but I’ve taken the liberty to provide you with a new prospect.”
Any insurance sales person would have known exactly what Connie meant. For some reason (my involuntary reaction to the sexy Connie might have something to do with it) her words didn’t register. I must have looked bewildered, so she repeated herself, adding a little explanation. “Rebecca Rawlins should be here in a few minutes. You know I shared with you that she was interested in this same type policy.”
“Oh yea. Thanks.” My mind had finally caught up.
“Go ahead and give me your spill. I’ll sign the receipt you mentioned.” She was in full control of our agenda. I didn’t mind. I was happy just sitting here, sipping my coffee, and trying to figure out the faint smell of perfume. I think it was one Susan had worn.
I sat up straighter and pulled out Connie’s long-term health care policy. “Your policy was issued just like you wanted, the requested amounts agree fully with your application. To start with, if you needed home health care services, the policy will pay a maximum of two hundred dollars per day. For assisted living or nursing home care it will pay four hundred. Each day, maximum. The automatic benefit rider will increase these daily benefits each year by the amount of the change in the consumer price index, but never less than two percent.”
Connie, as always, was among the brightest bulbs in the drawer. She asked a couple of questions and prodded me to produce the paperwork she needed to sign. She had just thanked me for making the entire insurance buying process less painful than a trip to the dentist. We shared a laugh. I was about to pop the question I had been pondering ever since my initial visit, but the front doorbell rang. My idea of asking Connie out for a cup of coffee would have to wait.
“Oh, that must be Rebecca. Perfect timing. Mollie, you stay here with Mr. Fred.” Connie got up and pushed the coffee table away, towards the solid glass wall looking out onto her gorgeous back yard. Susan would have loved all the red roses.
Mollie jumped up in my lap when Connie headed for the front door, as though the black Yorkie had received a subliminal order from her master. Once again, those loving eyes prompted my thoughts back to the Golden Retrievers Susan and I had and loved so dearly.
I hadn’t seen Rebecca in over forty years. As she came in and we exchanged the normal pleasantries, I was silently, hopefully non-visibly, disappointed. She had not aged near as well as Connie. Although I would have recognized her most anywhere, she wasn’t the pretty and athletic cheerleader I remembered. She still wasn’t ugly by any means. I think it was simply the shifting of body parts. Forty-four years ago, the tight-bodied and busty teenager was a head turner. I hated the aging process.
“If you two don’t mind I’ve got some work to do out here. I think the dining room would be better for your discussion anyway, and its cooler in there.” Once again, Connie choreographed the scene including its characters.
After Rebecca and I sat the large mahogany table, she looked at me with a faint smile. “Thank you for seeing me. I know I look like a wreck. It’s been a difficult couple of weeks.”
“No apology needed. I’m honored to meet with you. I hope you know I take my responsibilities seriously and will do everything I can to earn your trust.” My standard spill. I meant every word of it.
“Connie’s reference is all I needed. Of course, it’s not like we’re meeting for the first time. Even though it’s been a lifetime, I recall you being a nice guy back in high school.”
“Thanks. Maybe I’ve matured for the better.”
For thirty minutes I made my standard presentation, the same one that had persuaded Connie to make her insurance purchase. Rebecca had similar questions that I believe I answered to her satisfaction. An additional thirty minutes later I had completed my second long-term health care application in as many weeks.
It seemed our meeting was over. I organized all the paperwork laid across our end of the table and placed them back inside my notebook. I pushed back my chair and was about to again thank Rebecca for meeting with me when she said, “can we talk, personal?”
The first thing I thought of was someway she had identified me as the criminal who was being sought by both local and state law enforcement. Quickly, it dawned on me that wasn’t likely. If so, why would she have trusted me with such a big financial decision? “Sure, what’s on your mind?” I hoped my internal worry hadn’t oozed on to my face.
“I want to apologize for what happened back in high school.” Rebecca was growing more mysterious by the second.
“Okay, but I don’t have a clue why you would want or need to apologize to me.” I’d never been more truthful.
“The things I said about Deidre.” Rebecca pushed back her chair and crossed her legs. I knew that arm-crossing was a defensive position. Leg action was subtler.
“Rebecca, I sense you are troubled about something and believe me, if you had ever offended me I would let you know. I’m completely in the dark here.”
“I guess I have to believe you, but it seems odd. I was the one who told your mother about Deidre and Johnny.”
I searched my memory for a clue about what she might mean. The only thing that surfaced was what had been discussed last Sunday around Mom’s dining table. I couldn’t remember if it was Deidre or Mother who had said why she had banned Deidre from the Safe House because of Johnny Stewart. “Stimulate my memory. What exactly did you tell my mother?” I finally asked.
“I’m beginning to feel I’ve opened a can of worms.” Rebecca said, fingering a locket around her neck I hadn’t noticed before.
“Since the lid’s been removed why not go ahead.” I hated when someone started to tell me something and then became mute.
“Okay, I will. Again, it’s very surprising you didn’t know. I was mad at Deidre. She had stolen Johnny from me. I wanted to hurt her and the best way I knew was to tell your mother than Deidre was pregnant.”
“Pregnant? That’s news to me. How could I not know this?” I recognized, once again, as I had with Dad by the pond, that I had missed out on a lot happening around Boaz while Susan and I stayed secluded in Auburn.
“I doubt it’s unusual for a brother to not know his sister is banging a star football player. Sometimes, family is the last to know.” I had mixed feelings about what Rebecca was telling me. On the one hand, I was growing angry. Why cast such a negative light upon my sister? Or, was Rebecca truly sorry, which fed the other side of my mind that wanted to be sympathetic?
“Fred, by the look on your face I realize I shouldn’t have said a thing. I assumed wrong, apparently totally wrong. I have always thought that you, along with your mother, and family as far as that goes, hated me for pointing the finger at Deidre. Now, I must apologize for bringing all this up.”
“No, I don’t think that’s necessary. If what you are saying is true, then let bygones be bygones.” I said.
“Please know I would not make up something like this. Oh, what a mess I can make. Please forgive me.” I had no doubt Rebecca was sincere. She was starting to cry.
“I have a question. If Deidre was pregnant, what happened to the baby?” I would betray every thing about being a lawyer if I didn’t ask this question.
“All I know is from rumors and I’m not going to share gossip.”
“That’s not helpful. Often, gossip is the gospel. I wish you would tell me what you’ve heard and let me determine what to do with it.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. All I can say is, if you really want to know, talk to your mother.”
I don’t know if it was good or not but at that moment Connie stuck her head in and asked if we wanted something to drink or a slice of the key-lime pie she had made the night before. I declined and made the best attempt I could to exit without appearing too shocked.
I was thankful to be in my car heading back to the office. I hadn’t reached Highway 205 when my iPhone vibrated in my jacket pocket. It was Deidre.
“Fred, you need to come quickly. Mom has had a stroke. She’s at the hospital. In the emergency room.”
The Pencil Driven Life 