Below is the fourth installment of a creative fiction story I began writing last November for NANOWRIMO. After writing the initial 8,000 or so words last year for a story I have given two possible titles (either Death by Murder, The Suburban Murders or as suggested in the comments Death by Suburbia) I'm all for more title suggestions, (feel free to suggest titles in the comments as the story unfolds). However, I personally think that the story, even though it sits unfinished, is beginning to develop. I can picture the two main characters -- co-workers who are also involved in a sexual relationship -- as they struggle with their own demons while investigating a string of violent murders which, initially, seem to have no connection until the killer begins to get rather brazen, almost taunting the team investigating the murders.
As I said, I have yet to finish this novel but I do have an outline of it and I am honestly seeking out your opinions on it.
Here goes, the fourth page is below for your reading pleasure... (read the first page of the story here, the second page of it here and the third page of it here)
“Classy, and yes. But I need a fork too and - shit, sold out. Could that mean?”
“Maybe the last one sold is our murder weapon?” Grove asked inquisitively.
“Maybe,” Kline slowly replied, “Maybe.” He slapped Grove lightly on her tight ass, “Let’s go ask the little old lady some questions.”
“Did you find what you were looking for, sir?” The cheerful lady asked.
“No,” Kline dryly responded, “you were all sold out of forks back there. I was wondering if you could recall who bought the last one. It may have been used in a murder.”
“And how much do you normally sell those forks for, the True Temper ones?” Grove quickly asked.
“Nice recall Miranda,” Kline offered in return, “I’ll hafta think how to reward you for a job well done.” Kline smirked as he was obviously thinking with his dick again.
“Let me see,” the clerk thought aloud, “they are usually $17.98. Have been for a couple years now.”
“Shit, same price.” Kline muttered as he rubbed his right eye.
“We sold the last one yesterday, I think. Nice lady. She must have been about 30, maybe 35. Dressed way too nicely to be doing any gardening right away with it.”
“Do you remember what color hair she had?” Grove asked excitedly.
“Brunette. Very dark brown, almost black hair. Very pretty girl. Why do you ask?” The clerk’s curiosity obviously heightened by the officers’ questions. “Do you think she did it?”
“Probably not,” Kline replied, “She’s sorta got that fork through her gut. Thanks for your time ma’am. Oh, one more thing, could you ring up two bags of that spring lawn fertilizer you have on sale out front?”
“Seriously?” Grove asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “We’re kind of on duty...”
Be sure to check back each day for another page of this fictional work in progress.