Tag: small town fiction

Last week I gave you a snippet of Ten Million Ways to Die, the 18th book in the Magnolia Bluff Crime Chronicles. Chapter 3 to be exact.

This week, I’m giving you another snippet to further whet your appetite. In this one, Harry decides to talk to the phone scroller man to see if he can determine if there is a threat to his secret life. One that would make it not so secret. Enjoy!

And here again is the link to my reading of a portion of Chapter 2: https://youtu.be/kIpDKf2VkwE. I think you’ll enjoy it.

Just remember on Monday, October 23rd, Ten Million Ways to Die, the 18th book in the Magnolia Bluff Crime Chronicles goes live.

Now, without further ado, here is another snippet for your reading pleasure.

***

4

Tuesday, 10 October
1:11 pm

The lunch crowd was thinning out. Only three remained of the eleven who’d come through the doors of the Really Good. And one of those three was the man who constantly scrolled through his phone.

Harry was sitting at his corner table observing the stranger. The man didn’t look like a Fed. So perhaps he was private. Then again, perhaps he was a tourist.

But if he was a tourist, he doubted the man would have sat at a table drinking coffee for four or five hours.

“Even if the coffee was really good.” Harry smiled at his joke.

No, this guy wasn’t a tourist, or even someone just passing through. He was working for somebody. The question was, who?

Harry stood and crossed the floor to the man’s table.

When he reached it, he said, “Hello. I hope you’re enjoying the coffee.”

The man looked up from his phone. “It’s good.” His attention returned to the device in his hand.

Was that a touch of humor in his eyes? Harry asked himself, before saying, “I’m Harry Thurgood. The owner. Today’s lunch specials are roast beef au jus and cassoulet made with goose, salt pork, and kielbasa. Or I can serve you up a mean chili or a cheeseburger made with local beef. What do you say?”

The man looked up from his phone, looked out the window at the gray sky and misty drizzle, then turned back to Harry.

“Now that you mention it,” he said, “chili would hit the spot.”

“Texas-style with no beans? Or Yankee-style with beans?”

“This is Texas, right?”

“Yes, sir, it is.”

“I’ll take it Texas-style.”

“One bowl coming right up. Beans on the side?”

The man thought for a moment and shook his head.

Harry walked around the end of the counter and up to the window, looking into the kitchen. He gave Miguel the order and turned around to observe the man.

The guy was back, looking at his phone.

Near as Harry could tell, his mystery customer wasn’t carrying a gun. At least not in a shoulder holster. Nor did it appear, from what Harry observed, the guy was taking pictures.

His accent had a trace of the east coast.

So what was he doing sitting in the Really Good scrolling through his phone hour after hour?

Who do I know from the east coast who could have traced me to Magnolia Bluff?

“Order up, Mr. Thurgood,” Miguel announced.

Harry took the bowl of chili and plate of cornbread sticks, butter, and honey over to the man. He set it down, walked back to the counter, got himself a doughnut and coffee, and made his way back to the man’s table, and sat down.

The man looked at him over a spoon of chili, and said, “I’m not looking for company.”

Harry took a bite of his doughnut, chewed, swallowed, and said, “I’m not either. What do you want?”

The man put the spoon of chili in his mouth and slowly chewed. After he swallowed, he nodded and said, “This is good. And I don’t want anything. Just enjoying your coffee and passing the time. No law against that, is there?”

He’s a cool one. Matter-of-fact tone to his voice. “No, there isn’t. Glad you like the chili. It’s an original Texas recipe that one of the women in town gave a friend of mine before she passed away. The woman, that is. Not my friend.”

The man nodded, and spooned chili into his mouth.

Harry continued. “Glad you like the coffee. It’s from Sumatra. But as for you just passing the time drinking coffee and scrolling the hell out of your phone, I don’t think I believe you.”

The man shrugged.

Harry went on. “Your accent isn’t local, and no one has ever sat in my shop for five hours scrolling through their phone.”

“First time for everything.” The stranger put butter and honey on cornbread and took a bite. He nodded his satisfaction.

When he swallowed, he said, “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to eat in peace.”

Finally. Now he’s getting annoyed. He’s not completely unflappable. Harry stood. “Sure thing. And the chili’s on the house.”

“Thanks,” the man said, and turned his attention back to his phone.

Harry took his doughnut and coffee and walked back to his table. He sat and pondered what this guy’s presence meant. Wondered if it was the beginning of trouble.

***

I hope that has you salivating for more. The book goes live on Monday, October 23.

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading!

 

 

CW Hawes is a playwright; award-winning poet; and a fictioneer, with a bestselling novel. He’s also an armchair philosopher, political theorist, social commentator, and traveler. He loves a good cup of tea and agrees that everything’s better with pizza.

If you enjoyed this post, please consider buying me a cup of tea. Thanks! PayPal.me/CWHawes 

 

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