Bicycle Shop Murder by Robert Burton Robinson (parable of the sower read online .TXT) 📕
Greg heard a man shouting in the background, then a commotion. The phone went dead. He felt sick and helpless, like a kid who had just been spun on a merry-go-round at breakneck speed until he flew off. And the dizziness would not soon go away.
Greg wanted to call the police, but what would he tell them? And why did she call him instead of 911? He would call her back. No, he couldn't--he didn't have her number.
Then he felt something on his leg. The ice cream was melting beneath the chocolate shell, and it had collapsed under its own weight, and fallen onto the bed of napkins in his lap.
Still dazed, he sat for a full minute studying the ice cream as it dripped down the sides of the cone onto his hand and arm. Gradually the streams of white turned to pink, then to red-- running down Cynthia's face! A cold chill ripped through his body, and jolted him back to reality. He dropped the cone onto t
Read free book «Bicycle Shop Murder by Robert Burton Robinson (parable of the sower read online .TXT) 📕» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: Robert Burton Robinson
- Performer: -
Read book online «Bicycle Shop Murder by Robert Burton Robinson (parable of the sower read online .TXT) 📕». Author - Robert Burton Robinson
“So, you’re going to just walk out of here, and let me go on with my life?”
“That was my plan all along. Oh, and you can have this.” Marty stood, and tossed Sam’s envelope onto Buford’s desk.
Buford couldn’t believe it. He snatched up the envelope, and pulled out the two sheets of paper.
They were blank.
“What is this? Where’s the letter?”
“I mailed it to Angela Hammerly. She should get it today.”
“No! I’ll be ruined!”
“That’s the idea, Buford.” Marty smiled. It had all been worth it. Just to see the hopeless look on Buford’s face. “So, see—I don’t need to kill you. Besides, if I have a change of heart, I could come back later, and pop you any time I want.”
Marty turned, and walked toward the door.
Buford quickly and quietly opened the top right drawer and grabbed the pistol. He pointed it at Marty’s back and squeezed the trigger. But it didn’t fire—it just clicked!
“Oh, Buford. You’re so predictable. I told you I wasn’t gonna murder you today. This is self-defense.”
“But you unloaded my gu—”
Buford’s wife would find him, head rested comfortably against the back of his tall leather chair. At first, she might think he was just taking a quick power nap. Except for the bullet hole in the center of his forehead. And the blood leaking from it.
Too bad. Her ticket to fame and glory in Austin had been cancelled.
It was Sunday, 1:20 PM. Greg Tenorly felt almost human again, after sleeping for twelve hours. It only took a couple of knocks to get a response.
“Just a minute.”
He had dreamed about her all night long. Cynthia opened the door. She looked even more beautiful than in his dreams.
“Come on in. I’m almost ready.”
The last time he had been in her room at the Holiday Inn, they were just about to begin their big adventure.
“Did you sleep okay?” said Greg.
“Like a rock. And I woke up starved. Where are we eating?”
“Your choice.”
“I hope Dr. Huff understood about you missing church today.”
“Yeah, I’m sure he did. He knows I’ve had a rough week. We’ve had rough week. But it wasn’t all bad. I had a great time just being with you. You know, just talking and joking around. That part of it was fun.”
“Yeah, it was.” Cynthia seemed to be only half-listening, while finishing her eye makeup.
“And now I’m going to miss seeing you every day.”
Cynthia put down her makeup, and walked over to Greg. She stepped in close, and looked deeply into his eyes. By the time she spoke, his heart was pounding.
“You can still see me every day. If you want to.”
She leaned in closer, as her eyelids lowered. He leaned down, and gently touched his lips against hers, and realized he could never have prepared himself for the sensation that began to pulse through his entire body.
Instinctively, he draped his arms around her curvaceous body. Greg wondered if he was overstepping. Then he felt her hands sliding around to his back. Her mouth opened slightly. The tip of her tongue caressing his lips.
Cynthia still had a husband to bury. She didn’t know when she would be ready to start ‘officially’ dating again. But she did know who she would be dating. It would be the sweet, kind, loving, funny man she had gotten to know over the past week. His warm embrace felt like home.
*
It was a perfect afternoon to spend on the lake—if you could stand the heat and humidity. And Marty could. He cut the engine, and his boat slowed to a standstill. What a great spot, he thought. And nobody else was around to disturb his joy of fishing.
He flipped open the cooler, dug to the very bottom, and pulled out an ice cold Budweiser. Here was a place where he could fish, and drink beer, and commune with God. But then he remembered he had a little business to take care of first.
He unzipped the duffle bag, and took out a pair gloves and put them on. Then removed the gun and the suppressor from the bag. He carefully wiped them off with a rag one more time.
Then he lowered the two items into the water, and released them. With any luck, they would never be found. At least not in his lifetime.
“Buford, if you can hear me, wherever you are
” Marty took a sip from his beer. “
I wish I could say that your debt to society has been paid. But I’m afraid you’ve only paid one of your debts. But if the Good Lord would bring you back to life, I’d help you out with the rest of those debts.”
Marty took several more sips. “Really, Buford. I’d be more than happy to kill you over and over and over again. Whatever it took.”
Of course, Marty would only do this if God approved it. Because Marty had made a vow. And he would keep his vow.
This time.
THE END
*
For more information about Robert Burton Robinson and his novels, please visit RBRbooks.com
Comments (0)