With each passing day, I’ve been struggling to merge my vast array of activities into a sane routine. While it’s been a bit of a struggle to juggle the disparate avenues of interest, I’ve made some strides. Unfortunately, it still might take a couple of months before that progress manifests into concrete results. Despite those constraints, I’m excited to deliver the first installment of February’s tales, a Crime Caper.
I bounced between my master thief, Jessica Calhoun, and the crew of the Scythe for a few days, but I ultimately chose to explore Jessica’s history. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a clear idea of the crime to explore. As a result, I turned to Google and stumbled upon a collection of mystery writing prompts. While there were several mysteries to explore, the first one on the list called to me. After sleeping on the idea, Jessica’s story flooded into my mind.
Grab a chair and get comfortable as Jessica announces her moniker to her latest target.
When Leonard stops by his vault to add his most recent acquisition, he discovers a thief searching through his most prized possessions…
An elegantly dressed individual turned the door’s massive wheel. When it stopped moving freely, he propped the vault’s door open. Once the slab of steel stopped, he spun about, inclining his head. “Your vault is open and ready for your inspection, sir.”
The burly figure smiled as his chest swelled. “Thank you, Raphael.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Evers.” The lean man grasped his hands behind his back as his gaze drifted from his employer towards the opening at the end of the corridor. “Would you like me to deposit that trinket?”
“No,” the heavyset fellow said as he pulled his manservant away from the partially opened door. He patted Raphael’s shoulder as the crisp air from the other side of the steel slab swirled past his face. “It’s been far too long since I’ve meandered through my prized possessions.”
“Very good, sir.” Tilting his head, Raphael strode through the hallway. “Enjoy exploring your collection of memories.”
Once the butler vanished, the man’s thick fingers wrapped around the vault’s handle. As the metal leached warmth from his hands, Mr. Evers’ lips curled, forming a smile that would have felt more natural adorning a predator stalking its prey.
.
.
.
To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.