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Killing Time In LA: A James St.James Mystery
by Kenneth Lawson

1949 LA. James St.James is pulled into the investigation of a a professors wife who has been shot. The Husband confess. But the facts don't add up. "Sounds interesting!"

Chapter 1: Day One Thursday. June 9, 1949

The smell of coffee woke me up.

I followed the smell into the kitchen. Where  Brenda stood at the stove frying up some bacon and eggs.

“Smells good hun.” As  I  headed for the bathroom. I came back into the kitchen a few minutes later partly dressed. Taking my usual chair at the small round kitchen table. I poured myself a cup of coffee.

 By now Brenda had finished the frying and handed me a plate of food.

 While we ate  I turned on the sm...

Chapter 2 Day Two, Friday,June 10, 1949

As the morning sun broke through the cracks in the vation blinds I woke up early. Laying in the bed staring at the ceiling I couldn’t help thinking that something was off somewhere yesterday. Who called me late yesterday, who else's knew I’d been to see Lane in the morning?

 I quickly dismissed that idea that I was seen going down to the holding cells with Bob. It wasn’t something I’d done before. No one down there would recognize me. It had to be someone he talked...

Chapter 3 Day Three, Saturday, June 11, 1949

The early sun was making slats of light across the room through the blinds as I woke up.  Laying in bed listening to the wind move the trees outside my open window I considered turning over and going back to sleep. But I resisted the temptation. I slid out of bed being careful not to wake up Brenda.  In the kitchen, I found the coffee and fixings and made a pot.  While it percolated, I went over my notes from yesterday. There Had to be something I was missing.

 I  was on the ...

Chapter 4 Day Four, Sunday, June 12, 1949

 While the sun had long ago peeked through the blinds in our bedroom window.

 I didn’t move. I didn't move for some time. Finely the call of nature way too much for me to ignore. Having done that . I made my way to the kitchen. Within a few minutes, the smell of coffee  filled the small bungalow 

While I nursed my first cup of coffee waiting for it to cool down enough to drink.

The scrap of paper  I found on the table became a list of names. The first name...

Chapter 5 Day Five, Monday, June 13, 1949

 The smell of rain was still in the air.

 A quick glance out the window told it had rained hard. 

 While I did morning stuff I considered the progress we’d made yesterday.

 In some ways it had been a lot. 

But on the more basic level as to who killed Emma Hardy and why. 

I was still clueless.

 But I had more people to check out. Which is what the program was for today.

  I had given the list of names Lane ha...

Chapter 6 Day Six ; Tuesday June 15, 1949

Sometime overnight the rain had cleared off.

I woke up to the sun cutting strips of light and dark through the venation blinds that we’d pulled down last night to keep the world out.

Last night Brenada and I had talked until long past dark. Then we’d reconnected again as only we could.  

I lay in the bed staring at the ceiling. The sound of Brenda breathing next to me was comforting. Glancing over at her  I noticed she never did get back up and put on her nigh...

Chapter 7 Day Seven; Wednesday June 16, 1949

The smell of coffee woke me up. 

Looking at the other side of the bed. I saw the covers rolled back where Brenda had gotten up before me. Something that didn't happen too often. I lay still for a moment. Then it came back to me. I’d been up all night at Lens’ Printing office. Looking at my hands, the tell tale stain of black ink proved I wasn’t imagining it.  I considered going back to sleep. But I knew that was impossible. Sensing a movement I shifted my eyes towar...

Chapter 8 Day Eight: Thursday June 17, 1949

The death of Lyle Clements had set certain wheels in motion.

Among them, the ringing of my phone at seven in the morning.

The ringing of the phone had pulled me from my much needed sleep.

 I recognized the voice on the other end as Bob.

“Yeah what you want at this hour of the morning?” I grumbled as I pushed back the blankets and tried to sit up in bed.

“Caption wants you up here first thing this morning.”

“The caption, what's he...

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