Darkening Sturgeons: Chapter Nine

 

Another week, another chapter of my piece of blog fiction...

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DARKENING STURGEONS

Chapter Nine

by John L. Harmon

    Floridia Minch, wearing her binoculars, sits extremely ladylike in a comfy purple recliner, surrounded by vivid blue velvet curtains.  Nearer to death than birth, this woman is a sight to behold, with her dainty figure and cropped bourbon wig.  She is also a force to be reckoned with, with her steely brown eyes and a voice that has been known to equally bawl out the deserving and undeserving.

    Reverent twanging faintly emits from a nearby radio as Floridia Minch reports what she witnessed this very night to the two officers-of-the-law seated in front of her on a purple sofa.  “Widow Waterbottom was on her front porch blasting away the blasphemous sound of country/gospel.”

    “Isn’t that what you’re listening to?” Chief Deputy Clyde Woodhouse asks, unsuccessfully holding back a chuckle.

    If looks could kill, Clyde would be a goner.

    “Bite your wicked tongue, young man!  This,” she points to her radio, “is gospel/country!”

    Clyde is about to inquire as to the difference, when Sheriff Benjamin Straker interrupts and apologizes, asking her to please continue.

    And Floridia Minch does, beginning with how she witnessed Straker breaking into Lawrence’s house.  (“I was investigating his sudden departure with the aid of a key,” Ben quickly explains to a wide-eyes and seemingly impressed Clyde.)  She then describes how, sometime after Straker departed, the light of the Widow Waterbottom’s porch slowly darkened.  After about ten minutes, she noticed the light gradually illuminating with Bertha Waterbottom nowhere to be seen.

    “Did you hear anything during this event?” Ben probes, thinking back to the helpless screaming of Bob Kinney and Tommy Schroder as described by the witnesses.

    “Her sinful music was far too loud to hear anything else.”

    “Well, thank you, Ms. Minch, for reporting this and giving us your time,” the Sheriff states as he rises, feeling there is nothing else to be collected from this witness.

    It has been a long weekend for Ben Straker, made even longer by this apparent third strange disappearance.  He had been at the bar, having a second unadulterated soda, when Joe the dispatcher contacted him.  There was a quick decision, on Ben’s part, to leave Officer Leslie Johns on duty at Headquarters and call in Chief Deputy Woodhouse.  Clyde had been present during the prior investigations, so he has more first-hand knowledge of the situation.

    “Have a nice evening, Ms. Minch,” the Chief Deputy nods, eager to escape the country/gospel or gospel/country, whichever, whatever the difference is.

    As the law enforcement duo turn to leave, Floridia asks in a lackadaisical, non-consequential tone, “Wouldn’t you like to know about the large white van that pulled up just moments after the porch light returned?”

    Ben and Clyde come to a screeching halt at the pointed question.  Giving each other a look of complete surprise, they turn and return to the purple sofa.

 

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Click CHAPTER TEN to continue.

Until next time, Readers, be well and Freak Out,

JLH