This is a story I wrote for my eight year old grandson, Simon. He asked me to write him a mystery. The setting is in the nineteenth century and I put in some school history of that period. Simon straightened from his slump and waved his hand frantically in the air, thinking, “I know, I know, call me!” Finally the teacher had asked a question that he thought he knew the answer to. “Alright, Simon, what's the answer?” “Thir...

The wide walkway that was a few steps above the lengthy beach was teeming with the sun loving crowd. The first days of warm weather after weeks of a wet, dreary Spring drew the multitudes. As Melanie navigated her way among the strollers she looked past the sandy beach. Very few had braved the still chilly waters of the lake but there were some taking advantage of the warm sand to get their first tan of the year. She appr...

They sat around the table pondering the the future. Marshal Hagen finished his food, quickly drained his glass and stood. “I'd like to say that this was great meeting you all, but under the circumstances I think I'll postpone that. I better get back to my partner.” Tom said, “Wait a bit, Art, if you're not in a rush. We have a prisoner out in one of the outbuildings but he hasn't been very talkative. If he sees a U.S. Mar...