Detective Superintendent Ian Cudney lowered his bulky frame into his deck chair and slipped his can of cold Molson Canadian into a foam cozy. He sighed as he propped his pale, bare legs on a stool and gazed with satisfaction at his freshly mowed back lawn. His wife, Lois, slid back the Read more…
The sun was well up and the frost melted by the time the old man loaded his gear in the Jeep and pulled out of the driveway. He had lingered over breakfast, taking a second and a third cup of coffee. Millie left him alone, knowing he had to do Read more…
Detective Ian Cudney first heard of the mass murder at the Willow Tree Mall as he drove his unmarked police cruiser slowly through downtown London, Ontario traffic. His radio crackled, “All units, respond to multiple shots fired at 1476 Willow Tree Circle. Unknown number of assailants. Automatic weapons fire reported.” Read more…
In the fading sunlight, Sam Bailey pulled his battered Explorer off the tarmac and on to the gravel track leading to the headquarters of the Mill Hollow Whitetail and Chowder Society. After unlocking the substantial metal gate, he wound his way back to a large log and stone structure tucked Read more…
Doug Smithwood stood on the sixth fairway of the Deer Hollow Golf Club gazing up at a red tailed hawk carving lazy circles in a perfect azure sky. He was not so much interested in the hawk as in not looking at his playing partner’s swing. John Stein was a Read more…
I wrote this story a very long time ago and discovered it recently when I was looking through some old files. It’s so old, it was written on a typewriter. (You may remember those things.) It’s not much changed from the original. Like a lot of stories, this one has Read more…
The old man shambled down the sidewalk at his usual time. Walking hunched over, he pushed his walker before him. On one handle of the walker, he had a cup holder and on the other, a bell like the ones children had on their bikes in decades past. As slow Read more…