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Freeman's Front Porch Musings

My website to showcase my creative writings-such as they are.

Snatched…new writing, unedited, incomplete…

At 0830, Lilly walked into the police precinct and made her a cup of coffee. Konan walked in just as she sat down. She blew on the coffee and watched as he poured himself a cup. 

After taking a sip, she called down to holding and had Bronowski brought up to an empty interview room. Konan and Lilly watched as the guards brought him up. Bronowski glared at them.

“Yep. He remembers you.”

“Are you sure he’s going to cooperate, Konan.”

“No. But I am sure we need him to.”


An hour after Lilly let Bronowski sit in the empty room alone with his thoughts, she walked in and sat across from him. Bronowski glared at her. Lilly gave him an insincere smile.

The test of wills began. Neither spoke, so I walked in. Both gave me icy glares and then locked eyes again. 

“Lawyer,” Bronowski said.

I turned and walked out, after a moment Lilly followed. 

“He’s a hard-boiled egg, Konan. We’re not going to get anything out of him.”

“Give him what he wants, and we’ll try again.”

Annabelle Aramis walked into the murder room ten minutes later, dressed in the most recent fashion, her sandy blonde hair hung loosely to the middle of her back, her eyes cold and reptilian. 

“I’d like to speak to my client,” she lisped to the desk sergeant.

“Bronowski’s in room #3,” the desk sergeant clipped back. 

She walked around the corner of the desk and locked eyes with us. I gave her a small wave, she turned her nose up at my gesture. Lilly giggled. 

“You must’ve lost your mojo with the ladies, Konan.”

“Nah, man. She’s way out of my league. I can’t afford her company.”

Annabelle heard my comment and glared at me as she walked into the room. She slammed the door.

“Now look at what you’ve done,” Lilly said laughing. “You’ve gone and made her mad.” 

“Ah, she’ll be okay.”

We worked on other leads while Anabelle Aramis and Bronowski spoke. Something had to break, the tension in our town had grown to a fever pitch. 

Thanks to Reverend Alf and his band of goons, it would take time for things to return to normal. “IF things can return to normal,” I thought quietly.

Things worsened before things got better. It was within the natural order of things. The door to the murder room opened, and Mayor Ted Smith walked in.

“Is Chief Janko in?”

“Yes, sir. I can escort you…”

“I know where his office is, sergeant. Thank you.”

Mayor Smith gave Lilly and I a nod as he passed by. I nodded back. Lilly frowned as he walked by. 

“Strange seeing him out of the office,” she whispered. “He was all gung-ho back in the day.”

“Yeah. I reckon his first term had all the drama. His second term has been less drama-filled. I wonder what he wants?”

Nothing good ever came from a visit from Mayor Smith. It wasn’t if it was trouble, it was more a matter of how much.

There was nothing we could do, but wait and see.

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About Me

I’m a retired soldier. Writer and full – time coffee addict. I was born and raised in Mississippi, and I joined the Army at 28 for a life of adventure and travel. Interests include: Reading, walking my two pups, Casanova and Chunk, spending time with my wife Chassidy, and trying to pen the next great American novel. I am on Instagram under Freeman’s Front Porch Musings. I sometimes do Twitter under LarryF7371.


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