Short Story Fiction
The Rabbit Trail
Scott A. Gese


She was a private investigator working to solve a murder. She wasn’t opposed to using any means possible to get the job done.

rabbit trailAli Pazani/Pexels

It was a rabbit trail and she was on it.

She should have known something was up when the message came in. Intuition was something she prided herself on, but not something to be relied upon 100% of the time. Sometimes it was just plain wrong. This was one of those times. Now here she was, investigating a false lead in an abandoned warehouse and things weren't looking so good.

Her training and years of experience told her to get the hell out and do it now. Her intuition, such as it was, told her not to panic. If it was a trap, she had to keep her wits about her.

Her name was Clarice although she had always gone by Chloe. In the world of crime, investigative reporting was where she cut her teeth. It was the lure of the hunt that eventually led her into the world of private investigation. Tailing the spouse of a jilted lover never really appealed to her sense of adventure. It was the crime scenes and unsolved murders that held her interest.

This latest case was by far her biggest and at times she wondered if she wasn’t in over her head. It was now obvious she had struck a nerve with someone. Seems they were getting nervous. Maybe even wanted her out of the way.

A metallic clank echoed off in the distance. It brought both her mind and senses  into a tight focus. She pulled a 9mm from its holster and stepped behind a large cement pillar. The open door and high windows let in enough light to see what might be out there. Was it a stray cat or a person? Either way she’d soon find out.

Getting back to the door and out of the building was the goal of the moment, but before she could move she had her answer. It was not a stray cat.

“Give it up, Chloe. You’re in over your head. You should have let it go while you had the chance. Now it’s time to pay the price.”

The male voice was unmistakable. It was Johnathan Brice, one of Gaven Moline’s goons. Gaven was the murderer she was after. Brice, she knew from previous conversations with the man, wasn’t as loyal as he pretended to be. He could be bribed, but the situation needed to be different. This was not the time or place for such talk.

She kept quiet, not wanting to give away her location. She listened intently and moved slowly as she worked her way along a side wall toward the door. A loose panel of metal siding was a godsend. There was enough room for her thin frame to silently slip out. Her vehicle was close by and easy to get to. She hopped in and sped away before Brice even knew she was out of the building.

The following day she contacted Brice. He had information she needed. It was time to put this case to bed. Not wanting to give away her intentions to entice him, arrangements were made to meet in a public place.

What she had in mind would take time, skill and finesse. Brice was a man and she planned on using that fact to her advantage. A 9mm wasn't always the best option. Every now and again a pair of 38dd’s would have to do.

© Copyright 2021 by Scott A. Gese All Rights Reserved.

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