COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
Copyright © 2017 by Austin Mystery Writers and Friends
Copyright © of each individual story is held by the author.
Published by Wildside Press LLC.
www.wildsidepress.com
DEDICATION
The Austin Mystery Writers dedicate this volume
to the fond memory of Gale Albright.
1945 – 2016
FOREWORD
When Austin Mystery Writers (AMW) began working on this anthology, it was under the care of Gale Albright. Gale, who served as president of the Heart of Texas Chapter of Sisters in Crime, was a fan of fantastic storytelling and a champion of local authors. In addition to working on her own short stories, Gale enjoyed nothing more than helping other writers succeed. A self-proclaimed workshop junkie, she was the first to volunteer to coordinate an event. Her energy was infectious, and even when she nagged you about a deadline, you loved her for it.
Gale passed away unexpectedly on November 19, 2016. Two days prior, AMW had gathered for a program at the Wimberley library. After the event, we met for lunch at a lovely Hill Country restaurant and then parted ways. We said our goodbyes, fully expecting to see one another again after the Thanksgiving holiday.
It would be the last time our group gathered together. Gale’s passing reminds us to pursue our passions, to continue getting words on paper, and to be grateful for each and every day.
While we miss Gale terribly, her influence continues to be felt in many ways, with this anthology serving as but one example. Austin Mystery Writers dedicates this project to her memory and hopes our readers find her love of compelling storytelling is reflected in its pages.
—Laura Oles, Austin Mystery Writers, 2017
INTRODUCTION
Back in 2015, Murder on Wheels, the maiden mystery anthology brain child of Austin Mystery Writers, was published. The maiden was crowned with the 2016 Silver Falchion Award at the Killer Nashville writing conference as best fiction short-story anthology of the year.
We are full of pride and gratitude at the favorable critical reception for Murder on Wheels. It was a labor of love all the way. We can’t say enough good things about our editor, Ramona DeFelice Long, who also edited Lone Star Lawless.
Never ones to leave well enough alone, we have engendered this second brain child called Lone Star Lawless: 14 Tales of Crime in the Lone Star State. Austin Mystery Writers members Gale Albright, Valerie Chandler, Kaye George, Laura Oles, and Kathy Waller have each contributed a story. Our talented friends in the writing community—Alexandra Burt, Janice Hamrick, Scott Montgomery, Mark Pryor, Terry Shames, Larry D. Sweazy, George Wier, and Manning Wolfe—were invited to add to this tome. We are blessed with an embarrassment of riches.
The stories in this volume cover motel hell, medical menace, mortuary mayhem, sharp knives, kidnapping, theft, murder, assault by food, dangerous exercise, fickle fingers, and bad attitudes.
It’s the perfect crime anthology to read late at night. We hope you enjoy it.
—Gale Albright, Anthology Coordinator
ONE MORE TIME, by V. P. Chandler
Ephram Babcock’s boot steps thumped along the wooden sidewalk. He was grateful that the storekeeper had wrapped his parcel in brown paper. He didn’t want the town knowing he had purchased both witch hazel and horse chestnut ointments in an attempt to alleviate his hemorrhoids. Getting older was no hayride. Years in the saddle had taken their toll, not to mention the chip of flint from an Apache arrow that was lodged in one of his ribs, his broken foot that never healed right, and now his prostate was giving him trouble too. Lord, have mercy on this old body. I just want a few more good years. At the moment, all he could think of was getting home and getting some relief.
“Whatcha got there?” asked a boy standing in his way. “Any candy?” He looked at the package with curiosity while licking a lollipop.
“No. No candy. Now get along.” Babcock shooed away the boy and scurried across the dusty street.
Another voice called out, “Hiya, Mr. Babcock! You ready to give me that interview yet?”
Damnation. “No, Mr. Brown, not yet. Perhaps tomorrow.”
“Okay, but don’t make it too late. I have to go to print tomorrow and I’d like to have your story in this issue. You know, you’re a celebrity in these parts. Lots of folks want to hear what life was like for a Texas Ranger back in the Indian days.”
Babcock never broke stride. “It wasn’t that long ago.”
“Thirty years isn’t yesterday. Say hi to your pretty wife! Is that why you’re rushing home?”
Babcock growled and then muttered, “Something like that.” As he proceeded down the walk, he thought he heard Brown ask, “So how did an old dog like you get such a pretty wife?” Babcock didn’t stop but took note of the insolent remark.
“Mr. Babcock! Mr. Babcock!”
Hell’s bells. The devil has it in for me today. He didn’t know who was calling his name but he didn’t slow down. He waved his hand in acknowledgement and kept up his pace.
“Mr. Babcock! Please, it’s urgent! It’s me, Cyrus!”
Babcock winced. Cyrus was the town’s only deputy and not very “deputy-like,” as Babcock’s wife, Nora, often said. She had a soft spot for the young man, a boy really, only nineteen and out of his depth in responsibilities even though Dry Springs, Texas, was not much more than a crossroads.
Babcock turned and faced him. “What is it, Cyrus?”
Cyrus trotted over to Babcock while a worn and weather-beaten couple followed close behind. Babcock couldn’t recall their names, but he had seen them around and knew they lived on a farm west of town. Babcock surmised they were worried about something. The husband continually rubbed his grizzled chin and the wife clenched and unclenched her fists. He thought they were about thirty or forty years of age, but it was hard to tell in this tough country.
Cyrus explained, “Mr. Babcock, I need your help. Mr. and Mrs. Nederhoff here say something’s happened to their daughter. She’s missing, they think she got taken, and the sheriff is off in San Antonio for a trial. I can’t go look for her ’cuz I got someone in the jail I got to look after. Besides, I’m not good at tracking. Can you help?”
Babcock looked at the couple to size them up. The father was beside himself with worry but the mother seemed to have more anger than grief. Babcock asked, “How old is she?”
The mother answered. “Her name is Helen and she’s sixteen. And before you ask, no, she didn’t run off with a boy. The girl has more sense than that.”
Mr. Nederhoff added, “We think we know who took her. Cyrus says a man who had been staying at the hotel, a man named Callihan, up and left yesterday without paying his bill. Cyrus said the man was eyeing Helen when she come to town to pick up a package. Now the man and Helen are gone. I just know he took her.”
