Welp, my blog has been sitting neglected for far to long. Time for a bit of a site overhall and a preview at some of my latest work. I am inches from getting this short story done, I only need to write the last chapter. After I get that done I am unsure of what I might do with it, I would actually like to send it off to a magazine or two for the fun of it, but we shall see.

It'll probably make it to full syndication here eventually.

For now, enjoy this preview

-1-

God I hope you don’t tear this up. I’ve been sitting here for an awful long time thinking of what to say to you. I’m in trouble and I don’t know what to do. I remembered seeing you in the papers a few years back about your work with that Sorenson fellow. I know we haven’t spoken in years but I didn’t know who else I could turn to, you’re the only head doc I know.

After we parted ways in high school I went to the police academy like I always talked about. Worked as a cop in a lot of crummy little towns. Hated it. Could never catch a break and sooner or later I found myself needing to move on. I finally gave up on all that and went to work for myself. I’ve been a private investigator for ten years now. I’m pretty good at it. Good enough to keep the lights on and food on the table, anyway.

Four days ago I got a call in the office from a woman in West Virginia. She’d gotten my name from a friend of mine in the FBI. Her son had gone missing back on the 9th and after law enforcement had done all they could, she was still unsatisfied. She begged my friend, Nicholas, he was the agent in charge of the case, to keep looking. He told her they couldn’t spend any more time on a case that had no leads, but gave her my number, and the standard promise that something might come up.

I don’t normally do a lot of missing persons work, but I’ve been low on cash lately, so I took the job. I didn’t imagine I’d find anything if an FBI team had already gone over the details, but sometimes you get lucky, so after getting some details from Mrs. Moyer, the missing boy’s mother, and speaking to the local sheriff, I packed my bags and set out for a small town called Kingswood in the mid-eastern portion of the state.

Right now I’m sitting in police lockup. I found the boy, and while you must be wondering what any of this has to do with you, please just wait. I think its easiest if I lay out everything on the table so you can see it. My problem doesn’t make sense without the story of the last few days.