No One Goes Out To Eat Anymore

by Andrew Welsh-Huggins

About the Author: Andrew Welsh-Huggins is the Shamus Award-nominated author of the Andy Hayes private eye series and the editor of Columbus Noir. His short fiction has appeared in Mystery Magazine, Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine, Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine, the anthologies The Best Mystery Stories of the Year 2021 and Paranoia Blues: Crime Fiction Inspired by the Songs of Paul Simon, and other magazines and anthologies.

Excerpt

Carter eased his Suburban into a parking space in front of the two-story red brick house and took a good look. Hers wasn’t the grandest address on the block by a long shot, and the front yard appeared well overdue for a landscaping. But it wasn’t exactly a run-down cottage either. This was the full bay-and-gable treatment with the steep, multi-angular slate roof and a chimney reaching for the sky that looked like something out of Mary Poppins. Which Carter supposed was an okay analogy given how English-ey this part of Toronto always struck him. Yes, definitely a step above run-of-the-mill.

Carter patted the upper righthand pocket of his utility vest, checked his watch, and headed for the front door. Plenty of time to make his delivery, turn around, recross the border and head west for Cleveland and his next delivery. For the most part Carter didn’t mind international jobs, especially since some of them more than paid the bills. And this part of Canada didn’t feel all that foreign to start with. The red-faced Maple Leaf fans staggering up Roncesvalles a few minutes earlier looked a lot like the red-faced Amerks fans he’d seen stumbling down Court Street back home the previous week. You wanted exotic, there was that time in Kyoto delivering a sixteenth-century edition of The Tale of Genji. Hoo boy. What a mess that turned into. Toronto was tame-tame-tame by comparison. Still, it always felt good to be back home on familiar soil.

“Oh my. You’re early.”

Story Comments