Short short Marion Riles Soft-Boiled Detective Story

Sudden Death

When his old friend called him and asked him to check on his daughter’s new boyfriend, Marion at first refused. He didn’t like to stir around in family potties.

“Come on, Zoë is a kid. she just turned eighteen two weeks ago. And she thinks she’s grown-up, and I‘m scared,” said Heap Matthews. “She wants to be free of her mother. And me too. Damn it to hell.”

Marion had a hard time picturing the kid he’d known for ten years being an adult. It seriously hurt his “feel-young” attitude. Against his better judgment Marion told Heap he’d take a look at the guy.

Writing the name and address down, Marion scowled. Chance Beebe. He’d heard that name somewhere, but how and in what context? Heap had said he’d run a check on the boyfriend down at the station but it had come back clean. Still, he’d had a feeling about this Chance dating his sweet young daughter. But now Marion couldn’t place the name but he knew it.

After a bologna and sour Kraut sandwich, he jumped in the old blue Ford. He could feel that a bubble from the kraut sitting just over his gut. He ate some breath mints and six Tums; then he started up and drove over to the neighborhood where Chance Beebe was supposed to be living with his sister.

Lights were just coming on in the kitchens on the block when Marion nosed the Ford to the curb. It was a big, dilapidated house that had been converted to a four-plex. Some kind of sports car under a cover sat in front. Around the bottom of the car ran a steel wire with a padlock so big that Marion could almost read the numbers from his car.

He got out and went over to it. As he bent down to peek under the canvas skirt the frigging alarm went off. He ran like hell to a dark brushy tree across the street. As he turned to watch, a sinewy young guy came out, all muscled up with his hair buzzed off. He was wearing shades and didn’t take them off as he slowly walked around the car. Marion could almost feel his eyes darting around, trying to spot him.

Damn glad he was wearing dark clothes, Marion hunched down by the bush. Uh-oh, the kraut bubble was about to escape. Gritting his teeth, Marion held firm until the other man went back inside. Good thing, too, else he’d be up for murdering him with poisonous gas.

A screech of tires from the corner caught his attention. He stared as a Honda Acura spun around the corner. The darkened windows hid the occupants. Chance Beebe ran behind his car. Marion felt rather than saw the headlights sweep over him. He knew Chance had seen him and maybe so had the driver of the Honda. He crouched lower as the car jerked to a stop.

Two men jumped out of the back. Marion saw they carried sawed-off shotguns.

To Be continued: