The Ax by: Stacey Bell *Completed*

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 4 (v.1)

Submitted: July 10, 2012

Reads: 55

Comments: 2

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Submitted: July 10, 2012




Chapter 3

When I finish my coffee, it was eight a.m. ‘Might as well go and see Mrs. Edwards,’ I say to myself as I put my mug in the sink, grab my notebook and pen, just in case, and walk over to Mrs. Edwards apartment.

When I get to her door, which has the number 24D on it, I knock, and wait for her to answer. It was ten minutes later, before Mrs. Edwards answers the door. ‘Hey Mrs. Edwards, do you remember me? I live next door in 22D,’ I say as I point in that direction then put my arm down. Mrs. Edwards looks me up and down trying to remember me.

‘Oh yes, you live with that sweet young girl Chelsea, I think her name is,’ she explains to me.

‘Was,’ I corrected her sadly.

‘Was?’ asks Mrs. Edwards.

‘Yes, she was murdered thirteen years ago, do you remember?’ I ask hoping she would. Mrs. Edwards thought a moment.

‘Oh yes, I’m sorry Sam, old age,’ she smiles at me. I chuckle a little at her statement.

‘Can I come in? I need to ask you a few questions,’ I say to her gently.

‘Oh sure, I just made a batch of peanut butter cookies, so you can have some of them and milk!’ she explains as she opens the door so I can walk in.

When I walk in, the first room I see is the living room. It had an old fashion couch, and loveseat, and recliner, with a little TV. on the stand. ‘Right in here is the kitchen,’ she says as she ushers me in. When I step in to the kitchen, it was like any other kitchen, but there was a small table in the middle just for two people. With a table cloth on top of it; which had apples on it. The whole kitchen was decorated in apples, and she even had apple dishes. She must not get too much company, I think to myself as I sit down and lay my pad and pen down. Mrs. Edwards walks over to the stove, in her day dress, and takes a couple cookies from the pan, and lays them on the plate. She then pores me a glass of milk, and sat it down, as she lays the plate of cookies and mug down in front of me. I pick a cookie up, dipping it in milk, and take a bite. Oh my God! It was like heaven in my mouth. I’ve must’ve been making some delicious noises, because she spoke. ‘I’m glad that you like them, so what do you want to ask me?’ she asks as she leans on the table, with her arms. I lay the cookie back down, wipe my hand off on my pants, before grabbing my pen, and opening up my notebook.

‘The night that Chelsea died, you said that the killer was a woman, how do you know she was?’ I ask as I write the question down and waiting on her to reply.

‘Because, she walked like a woman, and didn’t have the body of a guy,’ she explains. I write down her answer.

‘Now, I know that you seen the murder weapon, but did you see anything else that you may be forgotten to mention?’ I ask before grabbing the cookie that I bit into, and finishing it.

‘I don’t think so, but I do have one thing that I found in the hallway the day after,’ explains Mrs. Edwards, before standing up, and walking over to the cookie jar, and pulling out a ring that had a big diamond in the middle, and it looks like a wedding ring. Mrs. Edwards has the ring in a Ziploc bag, as she hands me the bag, and sits down, as I take the bag and examine the ring.

‘This is Chelsea’s wedding ring, but how’d you get it, because it was on her finger the day she was murdered,’ I say as I look at the ring and was a little confused.

‘It was lying on the floor, so I picked it up thinking someone would come back to get the ring, but no one ever did,’ explains the old woman.

‘That’s weird that no one would come back to get a piece of evidence,’ I say as I decide to get the ring out of the bag, to take a closer look. As I twirl my wife’s ring in my fingers, I notice a chunk of blood and a piece of hair stuck in the blood. She must’ve fought off her attacker, I think to myself. I hurry to put the ring back in the bag, so I wouldn’t lose any evidence. I wrote everything down about the ring and what Mrs. Edwards says.

‘I have to ask you a few more questions, and then I won’t bother you again,’ I explain to her before going on.

‘Don’t worry Sam, you are always welcome at my house,’ she smiles at me.

‘Ok,’ I smile back. ‘Do you know a Rachelle that used to live beside you?’ I ask.

‘Oh yes, I remember her. She was the one that worked on your wife’s case. Yeah, she was a sweet girl, but I could tell that she was sad and hurting,’ explains the old woman.

‘Why would you say that she was sad and hurting?’ I ask as I write down what she had said about Rachelle.

Because, whenever she moved in, I went to greet her, and we got to talking. She then told me about her father who was stuck in prison for his entire life, she didn’t say why he was in there and I didn’t ask. She also has a sister I think, but I never gotten her name,’ explains Mrs. Edwards, as I write. ‘Anything else?’

‘Nope, I think that’s it and you’ve been a big help,’ I say as I close my notebook, gather my things and stand up. I took another cookie, and ate it.

‘No problem, don’t forget Sam, you can come over anytime and Chelsea was a sweet girl,’ she smiles at me, before giving me a hug, and letting go.

‘Yeah, she was, and don’t worry, I’ll be over again to have some more of those delicious peanut butter cookies,’ I smile at her as I rub my stomach. (I was holding my pen and notebook in one hand.)

‘Ok,’ she says with a big smile and excitement in her voice. We said our ‘see you later’ and ‘goodbyes’ before she closes the door, and I walk over to my apartment. I walk in and close the door as I sat everything down on the stand beside the couch, that held my phone and a lamp, and then my phone rang, and quickly picks it up.

‘Hello?’ I ask sitting down on the couch and propping my feet up on the coffee table. I had a cordless phone in the living room.


“Hey Sam, it’s me Kelsey,’ she says. Kelsey, what is she doing calling my home phone, I think to myself.

‘What’s the matter?’ I ask, thinking something had to be wrong, because the dispatcher never called us on the home phones.

‘Nothings the matter; I was just wondering if maybe you would like to go to dinner with me? I know that you’re not into dating, but it’ll just be business, and we can talk about Mr. O’Neil’s murder,’ Kelsey explains. I think about what she says, as I inhaled and exhaled.

‘I guess so, but it’s not a date,’ I say so she knows for sure. I still love Chelsea and probably will always love her.

‘Alright, I know, so why don’t I meet you at your place at about eight o’clock tonight?’ she suggests.

‘Sounds good,’ I say, before giving her my address and hanging up. Going to dinner with a woman? The last time I was with a woman was with Chelsea.

I then look down and see the Ziploc bag lying out of my notebook. I put my feet on the floor, lean up and grab the bag, and lean back in the couch. I look at the ring that was in the bag. ‘I have to tell the captain about this piece of evidence, I don’t think I can trust Rachelle with it,’ I say as I lay the bag on my lap, dialing up the captain’s number.

 There you have it chapter 3...let me know what you guys think of the book so far...this is my first time writing a mystery/crime story....don't forget to leave a comment or hi t the I like button...and as always...thank you for reading!!!!

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