The Silver Lake Murder by Gregg Matthews (different ereaders txt) 📕

“Ah, no, you don’t.”

“My wife Estell passed away a few years ago. I haven’t been the same since.”

“So sorry, Mr. Robins.”

“Well, thanks for saying that, Blake.”

“Yeah.”

“A lot of things have changed since the last time you were here, Blake.”

“Oh, like what?”

“Look around. This used to be a nice clean beach. Now it’s a mess. There are people drinking and partying here every night. Drugs and alcohol have taken over Silver Lake. There was a woman murdered here the other night as well. Someone has taken over Silver Lake and turned it into a cesspool.”

“I didn’t know all that.”

“Yeah, well, how could you know? You moved to New Orleans.”

“Yes, I did.”

“What brings you back here to Silver Lake?”

“Rose. I lost her in Hurricane Katrina. I thought she might come back here. Have you seen her?” Blake says with a little desperation in his voice.

Pulling his smartphone out of his front pocket, he presses on the camera app. He swipes right a couple of times. He gets to the picture of Rose. She is wearing flip flops on her feet, cut off jean shorts, a T-shirt. She has long dark hair and a bright smile. She is pointing to the person taking her picture.

“I haven’t seen Rose since you and her left a few years ago,” Mr. Robbins says, squinting at the smartphone.

“I have to keep looking for her,” Blake says desperately, standing up.

“Thanks for saying hello,” Mr. Robbins says, looking off into the distance.

Before pulling out of the dirt parking lot, Blake does some fast work on the smartphone. He makes an appointment for tomorrow with the local realtor to look at some storefront space to start his new business. He needs to make money as fast as he can. The wad of cash in his front pocket is dwindling.

Pulling out of the parking lot, he can see in his rearview mirror Mr. Robins waving the metal detector back and forth over the sand on the beach.

Driving down the old dirt roads in and around Silver Lake, he stops at some of the old cottages his friends used to live at only to find they have moved on. Occasionally he stopped and talked to a couple of people walking along the dirt road. But none of them have seen Rose. He wonders if it was a mistake coming back here.

The day turns into night, he pulls the car into a crushed stone parking lot closer to Route 38 to get some rest. He climbs in the back seat and makes himself as comfortable as he can. He starts to fall asleep listening to the sound of summertime, a symphony of frogs and insects. His last thoughts are, find Rose, find out what happened to Cindy Flynn, get the new tattoo shop up and running as fast as he can, he is low on money. His heart aches at the thought of missing Rose.

CHAPTER 3

Blake can feel the leather seat on the side of his face. He is exhausted from the last few days. His body wants him to stay down, but his mind is starting to wake up and wants him to move. He wakes up from the vibration and the sounds of the grasshoppers and frogs coming from his smartphone. His muscles are sore, but he moves around and gets the smartphone out of his left front pocket.

“Hey,” Blake says with a faded Boston accent.

“Hi, this is Eleanor from Lakeview Realty,” Eleanor says.

“Hey, Eleanor.”

“You called our office yesterday about the storefront property for rent on Shady Lane. Do you want to see it today?”

“Yes.”

“How soon can you get there?”

Raising his head over the back seat, he realizes he is in the parking lot of the storefront property for rent on Shady Lane. Shady Lane is a dirt road; to the right is the crushed stone parking lot where his car is parked. The lake is within walking distance of the parking lot. Across the street is where the commercial building is. He knew he had the appointment today and didn’t want to miss it. He decided to sleep in his car in the parking lot, where his appointment today is. He is glad he did because it has made this morning so much easier.

“I’m at the property.”

“Perfect. I will be there in ten minutes.”

“Right.”

Squirming his large, lanky framed body around in the back seat. He catches his long, curly brown hair on the driver’s side seatbelt when he tries to get out of the car. He takes a minute to untangle his hair. He walks to the back of the car, opens the trunk, and puts on a fresh T-shirt. He adjusts his jeans and slides his cowboy boots on. He pulls his hair back and puts an elastic around the back. He reaches in for the toothbrush, mouthwash, and a bottle of water. He uses the three items and spits out the difference onto the ground.

Closing the trunk, he walks across the crushed stone parking lot towards the empty storefront. He takes in the old strip of stores and the building housing them. The building is white, the paint is peeling and chipping. The building needs a lot of work. There are three steps in front of the building going across all the storefronts. There is a front porch going across the front of the storefronts as well.

There are four storefronts with large windows in the front of them. There are several neon signs making various statements. Three of the storefronts have blue neon signs in various shapes and sizes with the same statement, they are Open for business.

The storefront on the right side of the commercial building has an additional red neon sign spelling out the word Jackal. That storefront is also much larger than the other three. That storefront has two levels to it while the other three stores have one level. The sign on the front of the storefront to the right has a green base with white