Beyond the Sample Tuesday -- Your First Look at "Could've Been Something" --
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Could've Been Something releases on Monday, June 19th!!! This is your first sneak peak at something you WON'T see in the sample when you download it on June 19th.
Today, let me introduce you to "Morgue." You can find this in the longer reads section of the collection, which begins on page 61.
Author’s Note:
As a teenager, I got hooked on studying 1920s Prohibition era Chicago mobs. Going to genealogy, we had family who lived in Chicago in the 1920s. They were German and Swedish descent, so they weren’t exactly involved with the mobsters. However, our great-aunt caused a ‘scandal’ when she was married in a ‘mini skirt’ on Saint Valentine’s Day, 1929.As I write this note decades later, I’ve forgotten more things about the Era than I can recall, but the time inspired me to write this story sometime in the mid-1990s, in my college years. I wasn’t sure where this story was going to go when I had begun writing it, so let’s find out together…
Morgue
Sometime in the 1920s
It
seemed like a game. The rain slapped against the windshield and the wiper
blades carelessly tossed it out of the way.
It was as if the wipers were constantly slapping some sense into the
weather for getting into its way. The headlights lit up the road ahead, showing
nothing but the wet road and standing puddles. Not one car passed him but he didn't expect
any. Morgue's mind was miles away, still
on where he had just been. He had to lay
low now for a while, having been successful on his last contract. He had to grin as his hand went to the pocket
of his vest. Oh, they would be like a roused nest of hornets now. The best thing about it was that not one of
them knew who made the hit. He knew
they'd blame their rivals, they would go to war, destroy each other, then his
boss would take over.
His
lights were suddenly showing on a wisp of a girl in a soaked dress in the
middle of the bridge. He immediately
stepped on the brakes, his car sliding to a stop inches in front of her. She looked blankly at him then collapsed to
the ground. His hand immediately gripped
his gun. Was this a trap? They couldn't know he was involved. His eyes
surveyed his surroundings. What was his
gut instinct saying?
No, this was not a trap.
"Christ
alive," he muttered. This was not exactly what he needed. He opened his door, his hand on his gun in
his shoulder holster. The driving rain
was bouncing off his hat and his eyes were on the constant lookout for any
other movement. He approached the front
of the car, his hand inside his black overcoat, resting on the butt of his
gun. She was lying on the ground in a
wet heap, crying.
Great,
she looked like a kid. He almost hit a kid. "Hey, kid, are you okay?"
"Leave
me alone!" She yelled at him then
got up and staggered to the side of the road, not seeming to notice the rain
falling.
He
looked at her blankly then shook his head.
One of the things he hated was drunk kids. Those who couldn't handle their alcohol
shouldn't even try to drink. "Look, kid, you should find some other place
to wander around at night. You could get
yourself killed out here."
She
didn't respond as she started to climb up on the railing. She was going to jump? He sprinted over and pulled her back. She struggled with him and began screaming,
"Let me jump! Let me die! Let go of me!"
"I'm
not letting you do it, kid," he shook her just a little to get her
attention. His bet was that she was
fourteen or so. "It can't be all
that bad," he told her. The rain
was pouring off his hat and was making him cold. He realized that if he left her here, she
would jump, and it would be on his conscious.
He didn't believe people should take their own lives. Someone else
should take it for them. "You're
just a kid. How bad can it
be?"
"I'm
not a kid!" she shouted at him as she broke away from him. She took a few
steps back, brushing her hair away from her eyes.
He
held up his hands. "Sure, whatever you say."
"I'm
nineteen!" She bent down, picked up some mud and flung it at him. "He was the only one who loved me,"
she sobbed and sunk down to her knees again.
"Now he's gone. It's not worth
it anymore. Josie's gone." She was crying, her dark hair was in a scraggly
and unattractive mess.
Morgue
shook his head. “Look, you're young yet.
You don't even know what love is."
"I
do too!" She was stubborn. "I loved Josie and he loved me!"
"Fine,
if you insist," he held up his hands as if to say he wasn't attacking.
"'Sides, if he loved you, he wouldn't have left you."
She
looked at him, anger in her eyes. "Josie didn't leave me! He's dead!
He was murdered!"
How
did he get into these messes? He
shrugged, "You're pretty enough and there's plenty of young men out there
who would want you." He had had enough. He turned to go.
She
looked at him. "Nobody wants
me! Caroline and Catherine are the
beautiful ones. They always get the men. I'm just the ugly duckling. Josie was the only one who loved
me." She hugged her knees and
buried her head, sobbing and crying uncontrollably.
He
let out a deep sigh as he turned back to her. Now he was just wasting
time. It was cold, wet, and he had
somewhere to be. He had to get her home. "What's your name?" He squatted
down beside her.
"Nicky,"
she sobbed. "But what does it
matter?"
"Because,
Nicky," he looked around before he looked at her. The rain was falling off
his hat, annoying him. He hated to feel liquid on his face. He found it blurred
his vision and the noise dulled the surroundings. "I am going to take you
home. You need to sleep it off. Forget
about that guy. You'll feel better tomorrow," he stood up and looked at
her. "Come on."
"I'm
not going," she wiped her tears.
"My father would kill me."
"What's
the difference?" he shrugged.
"It'd be better than jumping in the river. You ever see a body pulled from a river
before?"
"No,"
she looked up at him with a sour look.
"But I suppose you have."
"No,"
he replied dryly as he flicked the water off the brim of his hat. "But I hear they ain't pretty. Come on, let's go."
She
looked up at him as he motioned her up.
"C'mon,
let's go," he repeated.
She
frowned and stood up. He directed her
over to the car door where he opened it for her and put her in. He then slammed the door and sighed. "How do I get myself into these
things?"
********************
"It's
down this street," she told him. He
sighed with relief. At least his boss
lived on this same street. He wouldn't
be that late getting in. Casper would be
wondering what happened to him. They had
probably heard about Bacardi by now. His
eyes went to the mansion at the end of the street. That was his destination. Casper would be waiting.
"It's the big house at the end of the street," she told him as she leaned her head on the window and sniffed. She sunk deeper into the blanket he had found in the back of the car. His eyes immediately went to her. Just his luck....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Liked this teaser? There’s more. Find out what happens next and head over to Amazon or Barnesandnoble.com to pre-order the book! It’s available as an eBook, a paperback, and in hard cover!!
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