By Trevor Belshaw
Harris sat hunched over the table, his damp grey hair sticking to his forehead. It was hot in the room; it had been a hot summer.
A single tear meandered down his cheek, he wiped it away with the back of his hand, winced, then cursed his injured knee as he forced himself out of the chair and made his painful way across the timbered floor, to the fridge.
Gritting his teeth he pulled out a cold beer and rolled the bottle up his bare arm to test the temperature. Satisfied, he removed the cap and wandered through the open door to the veranda. He sipped slowly at the beer, deep in thought. He was aroused by the sound of a car driving across gravel; a voice came from the darkness.
‘Is there one of those things going spare?’
‘Drinking and driving? and you a police officer; what sort of example is that Steve?’
Harris went back to the fridge, pulled out a beer and handed it to the uniformed officer.
Steve drank half in one pull, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
‘So, is the deed done?’
‘Yes, it’s done, I killed her, no going back this time.’
‘She had it coming.’
‘I know, Steve, but it was hard to let go.’
The policeman patted Harris on the shoulder, finished his beer and walked through to the kitchen to get another. He picked up two, flipped the tops and walked back to the veranda, placed a bottle at his friend’s feet and sat on the top step.
‘I have to ask this, how did you do it?’
‘I gave her a heroin overdose, her drug of choice. She died with a smile; I think she was ready for the release.’
The officer, sat quietly for a while, then shook his head.
‘Hell of a way for a young girl to die, how old was she? Twenty-two, Twenty-three?’
‘Twenty-three, though she looked forty in the end.’
‘That’s what happens when you get mixed up with drugs.’
Harris placed the empty bottle at his feet and picked up the refill.
‘Where did you put the body? I have to know.’
Harris was reluctant.
‘Come on man, I know everything else, what’s the point in holding back now?’
Harris sighed.
‘She’s in the woods, not far from the cabin...’
Steve walked over to his friend and squatted in front of the distraught man.
‘You did the right thing. It was over; there was no future for her. It’s time to move on.’
Harris nodded.
‘I know, I know. It’s just so... so final.’
The cop stood, thought about more beer but decided against it.
‘Better get this over with.’
Harris walked back to his desk, picked up two large manila envelopes from the table and handed them reluctantly to the policeman.
‘It’s all there, my dastardly confession, every detail, typed double spaced, two copies; signed.’
Steve smiled.
'Thanks for the spare copy, I'm really looking forward to reading it. I’ll make sure the other one gets to the post office first thing tomorrow. Secure post to the publisher. Have you decided on a new character for the next book yet?’
Harris nodded.
‘The next book will be about a cop, a cop who is out to destroy the filth that corrupts the innocent.’
Harris waited until he heard the car drive off. Then he fired up the computer. Within five minutes he was deep into the second paragraph. He hit the keys hard as he typed, this one was for Melissa.
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Tracy's Hot Mail, the paperback, coming soon from BigBadMedia http://www.bigbadmedia.com
Tracy's Hot Mail, the new eBook from T A Belshaw
read a sample or download from Ma2Books. http://ma2books.webplus.net/tracyshotmail.html
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