About the Author: O’Neil De Noux writes novels and short stories with 43 books published and over 400 short story sales. Much of his writing is character-driven crime fiction, although he has written in many disciplines including historical fiction, children’s fiction, mainstream fiction, mystery, science-fiction, suspense, fantasy, horror, western, literary, religious, romance, erotica and humor. Mr. De Noux is a retired police officer, a former homicide detective. His writing has garnered a number of awards.
I’ve never seen Chief Marcus Boone so shook up. He gives me a withered look from behind his desk, wipes sweat from his brow and says, “This is bad. Real bad.”
It’s barely six a.m., December nineteenth and we are in the university police station, me sitting in one of the cushioned chairs in front of the chief’s desk, the chief in his captain’s chair behind the desk. Marcus’s eyes are red-rimmed and he looks … old, his dark blue uniform shirt seems two sizes too big as he yanks his collar, ala Rodney Dangerfield. He’s small to begin with, topping off at five-five, while I stand six-two. At forty-four, I’m ten years younger.
I wait, as good cops do, for him to continue. Complainants, as well as chiefs of police, restart conversations automatically. After popping a second stick of nicotine gum into his mouth, he says, “They stole our Christmas tree last night.”
“What Christmas tree?”
The chief’s eyes bulge as if I’d just blasphemed.
“The big tree. The one in the middle of Frenchmen’s Circle. Between Evangeline Oaks.”
That's a nifty plot starter. I enjoy humor in a mystery story, and I enjoyed this. It's a little heavy handed on the sardonic humor, I think, but it reads well, and I liked the ending.