Not a Whisper by Donna B McNicol

Posted on Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Chapter 4

Owen Harper looked at the supple body of the blond in bed beside him. So much softer and sweeter than the tart starchiness of his wife. It had been years since he had felt any passion for her, seeking release in sweet young things like his secretary.

Jerrilyn stretched her naked body, feeling the power she held over the man beside her. Her last name might be Rich but she was far from that. She hoped she would be able to talk him into divorcing his bitch of a wife and marrying her. She was eager to trade the name for the reality.

"Owen honey, roll over here and rub my back. You wore me out last night. You are such a tiger. I can't believe you are-"

Owen kissed her, preventing her comment about his age. He could keep up with any 30 year old guy out there, in bed or out. Rolling her back onto her stomach he massaged her tight shoulder muscles, working his way down her back and onto her tight buttocks. His hand squeezed and molded her soft skin, pinching a bit and then working its way between her legs as she wiggled.

"Ready for more, are we? Me, too." Jerrilyn rose up onto her knees presenting herself to Owen, as ready as he was randy.

As they rode together again, he gave scant thought to his wife at home, or anything else.


Corey Tanner sat in the darkened room wondering what had happened. Had he had another blackout? Something was different this time. He struggled to wake and realized he was tied down. His head felt fuzzy, stuffed with cotton. Where was he? "Hey, anyone out there? HELP!"

His shouts echoed in the room but there was no reply. He wasn't sure if it was day or night. He thought about his cat, would someone feed her? Slowly he fell asleep again.


Bob Johnson was fuming. Alan Baumann had put him down again. Damn old fart was retired and still couldn't stay out of his business. He looked through the papers on his desk. A request for training by that new guy, Hilliard somebody, several overdue bills, the inventory of equipment he'd asked for and finally, what he was looking for, the election petition.

Less than fifty names, not near enough to present to the County. He needed several hundred more to get the special election date moved up. He was going to need more neighborhood canvassing done. Time to call a meeting of the volunteers. If he couldn't get the election date advanced by thirty days, he knew he was out. His window of opportunity was small and he needed to get things moving.


Eva Harper knew her husband wasn't on a retreat, that was the excuse he always used when he took a slut on vacation. The fact that their secretary, Jerrilyn Rich, took off at the same time confirmed her suspicions. She was close to be being done with Owen's philandering. She had squirreled away enough funds to retire comfortably. Money was the only reason she'd stayed for so many years.

She looked out the front window at the broad expanse of green, neatly manicured lawn. She'd miss this house. It had been her home for over twenty-five years of marriage. But years of skimming money from their insurance agency had allowed her to buy a nice little seaside cottage in the panhandle of Florida. No more Pennsylvania deep freeze winters for her.


Mike Hilliard looked at his wife, Marie, "I think there may be something hinky about this fire."

"Why is that?"

"I don't know, just call it a hunch. The guy from the State Police Fire Marshal's office seems pretty on top of things though. First time I've worked with someone who covers both fire and police work. Should be interesting. Wish I wasn't headed back to Cleveland tomorrow."

"It's only for a few days. I'll keep in touch with Pansy, she always knows what's going on locally."

They walked out to the back porch with their beers, ready to watch the evening wildlife.


Janie Crocker slammed the cabinet door, "Don't you walk out on me missy. Diana Lynn Crocker, get your butt back in here, right now!"

Her sixteen year old daughter slunk back into the kitchen, drooping shoulders contrasting with the stubborn look on her face. "It is what it is, mom. I'm pregnant and we're gettin' married. If you don't sign for me we'll just run away." Diana crossed her arms and stared defiantly at her mother.

"Janie, this isn't what I want for you. Believe me, I know from experience. There are better solutions than getting married at sixteen."

"Riley loves me and I love him. His daddy's got money and we'll live with him till we finish school. There's nothing to worry about."

Janie sighed, a long day already, now a missing husband, a defiant daughter and an over-eager son bound to get hurt in one of the fires he fought.


John Crocker sat in the smoky bar, no thought given to the late hour or the dinner getting cold at home. The cards in front of him had been calling his name for hours. Bleary-eyed from smoke and too much beer, he took another swig and laid down his cards. "Call."

The man sitting opposite him, laid down his cards. "Full house," he said as he pulled the chips toward his side of the table. "Another round?"

"Sure," said John, "I need a chance to get even. Deal 'em." He lit another cigarette, not noticing he already had one in the ash tray.

The clock on the wall showed 3AM.


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Genre – Cozy Mystery

Rating – PG

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Website http://donnamcnicol.com/


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