Other Stories in this issue

Teddy Baer's Picnic

by Steve Liskow

About the Author: Steve Liskow's short stories have appeared in Mystery Weekly, Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine, Sherlock Holmes Mystery Magazine, and several anthologies. He has been a finalist for the Edgar and the Shamus Award, and has also published thirteen novels.

Excerpt

Bronwyn Kodiak braces herself for the Afternoon From Hell. Among other things, her tote bag carries a bottle of Zinfandel, a bathing suit, sunscreen, and a bottle of aspirin, and she knows all of them will get heavy use. Her special salsa sits in a Tupperware, and that will go, too.

“Damn.” Easton, her husband, maneuvers among the Jags, Porsches and BMWs already jamming the driveway leading to her father’s six-car garage. “Looks like we’re the last ones here.”

“Dad won’t mind.” Bronwyn doesn’t, either. The vibe already feels uglier than sharks surrounding a bleeding tuna.

  Easton reaches into the back seat for the duffel bag that holds his own bathing suit, towels, and a six-pack of some microbrew the college kids drink—Easton’s forty-two and fighting every second of it. He wears a green and orange pinstripe shirt above distressed cut-offs that still have the plastic thread from the tags. His legs are the color of matchsticks, but less muscular.

Sounds of forced gaiety spill from behind the house, slightly smaller than Sleeping Beauty’s castle on steroids and three times as ugly.

Easton’s smile gives Bronwyn cramps.

“I figure I’m first in line, but I still wish to God there was some way to thin out the competition.” 

I’m working on it. Bronwyn catches herself before she says it out loud.

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