Small town murder

a Glennville book featuring Kyle Stevens

by Wendell Sweet

LEGAL

This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places or incidents depicted are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual living person’s places, situations or events is purely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced by any means, electronic, print, scanner or any other means and or distributed without the author’s permission.

Permission is granted to use short sections of text in reviews or critiques in standard or electronic print.

Chapter 1: The Burning House

The acrid smell of burnt wood and something else, something sickeningly sweet and acrid, hung heavy in the air. Sheriff Kyle Stevens squinted against the still-flickering flames, the orange glow painting grotesque shadows on the ravaged remains of Turk Hayley’s house. It was a mess, a chaotic jumble of twisted metal, shattered glass, and charred timbers. The fire had been fierce, consuming everything in its path with brutal efficiency. He’d received the call just after midnight – a raging inferno engulfing a house on the outskirts of Glennville. Now, standing amidst the ashes, the early morning chill did little to counter the gnawing unease that settled deep in his gut.

A fireman, his face smudged with soot, approached Stevens, his voice strained above the crackling embers. “Found a body, Sheriff. Near the back.”

Stevens followed him, his boots crunching on broken glass and pulverized brick. The closer he got, the stronger the sickly sweet smell became – a metallic tang that clung to the back of his throat. They reached a relatively clear patch where a body lay partially obscured by a fallen beam. The remains were badly burned, but even in the dim light, Stevens could tell the victim was a man. The fireman carefully moved the beam, revealing a twisted, charred limb. The sight, brutal and stark, sent a jolt of adrenaline through Stevens. This wasn’t just another house fire.

As the paramedics began their grim work, Stevens surveyed the scene. The fire had started in the back of the house, near the kitchen, the fireman had reported. The pattern of the burn suggested a rapid spread, consistent with accelerant. But the layout of the house suggested a different story. The wind, a fierce gust from the south, should have pushed the fire towards the front, not contained it to the rear. It was a small detail, perhaps insignificant, but it planted a seed of doubt in Stevens’ already troubled mind. Something wasn’t right. The air itself felt heavy, charged with unspoken truths and unanswered questions.

The fire marshal arrived shortly after, a harried man named Miller, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. He surveyed the damage with a professional eye, his clipboard a shield against the chaos. After a cursory examination, Miller muttered something about accidental causes, possibly a faulty electrical wire. It was the expected conclusion; a tragic accident, another scar on the otherwise quiet town of Glennville. But Stevens remained unconvinced. The way the fire had spread, the unusual intensity, the lingering smell – these things whispered of a different narrative, a darker tale woven from malice and deception.

The discovery of the body complicated things considerably. Miller, pragmatic and weary, barely registered the finding as anything unusual. “Another casualty of the fire, I suppose,” he’d murmured, his gaze already shifting to his report. But for Stevens, the presence of the body shifted the entire investigation from a simple fire incident to a potential homicide. A nagging suspicion, cold and hard, formed in his gut: this wasn’t an accident.

The body was eventually identified as Arthur Abernathy, a reclusive neighbor who lived a stone’s throw from the Hayleys. A recluse, yes, but a harmless one, according to what little Stevens had managed to gather from the few people who’d ever interacted with him. Abernathy, a frail, elderly man who kept to himself and his small garden, had seemingly become an unintended victim in the inferno. But Stevens couldn’t shake off the feeling that Abernathy’s death wasn’t a random consequence of the fire. The placement of the body, partially shielded yet undeniably exposed, seemed… deliberate. The early stages of the investigation already seemed to be building a case against the randomness of events.

Meanwhile, May Hayley, Turk’s wife, arrived at the scene, a small, fragile woman clad in a flimsy nightgown and bathrobe. Her face was streaked with soot and tears, but a flicker of something else, something that resembled relief rather than grief, momentarily crossed her features. It was a fleeting expression, quickly masked by the performance of overwhelming sorrow. Stevens made a mental note of it. The display of grief didn’t quite ring true. There was a coldness in her eyes, a distance that hinted at a deeper, more complex story beneath the surface. He watched her as the paramedics worked, a silent observer picking up on the nuances of her grief, or lack thereof.

The initial interviews with the neighbors were equally unsettling. They spoke of the Hayleys in hushed tones, their words laced with a mixture of fear and resentment. Turk Hayley, they said, was a volatile man, prone to fits of rage. He was a man known for his loud arguments and unpredictable behavior, a fact confirmed by the numerous reports filed against him for minor infractions over the years. The accounts confirmed a volatile relationship between Turk and May, punctuated by explosive arguments and threats. Christine, their daughter, was rarely mentioned, only ever referenced in passing, described as “troubled” or “rebellious.” The neighbors seemed reluctant to divulge much, their fear palpable in their hushed whispers and darting glances…

Check out the book…

Small Town Murder: A Kyle Stevens Murder Mystery (Glennville Book 12) Kindle Edition

Small town murder

The Small town of Glennville New York is a nice quiet place to settle down and raise your family. At least that is What Sheriff Kyle Stevens thought when he retired after being a detective in New York City for twenty years. And Glennville, for the most part was quiet. Respectfull. Safe. Until the day Kyle’s deputy for the body of a young girl out by the old abandoned school building…

#Mystery #Murder #Crime #DellSweet #KU #DellSweet

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