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    The First Detect-Eve
    The First Detect-Eve
    The First Detect-Eve
    Ebook79 pages1 hour

    The First Detect-Eve

    By Robert Jeschonek

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    About this ebook

    Eve, the first woman in the world, wants one thing.  To find out who killed her son, Abel, and make them pay.  Down on her luck since she got thrown out of Eden, Eve combs the darkest corners of a godless no man's land on the trail of a killer.  Could her own flesh and blood hold the key?  Or has her own worst enemy slithered back into her life to finish what he started in the Garden?  When Eve becomes the first detective in history, she might end up dead before she can solve the first murder mystery of all time.  And snakeskin might be the last thing that flashes before her eyes. Don't miss this exciting tale by award-winning storyteller Robert Jeschonek, a master of unique and unexpected fantasy and mystery tales that really pack a punch.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRobert Jeschonek
    Release dateNov 12, 2018
    ISBN9781452314181
    The First Detect-Eve

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      Book preview

      The First Detect-Eve - Robert Jeschonek

      The First Detect-Eve

      THE FIRST DETECT-EVE

      A MYSTERY TALE

      ROBERT JESCHONEK

      Busted Books

      CONTENTS

      Also by Robert Jeschonek

      The First Detect-Eve

      About the Author

      Special Preview: The Masked Family

      THE FIRST DETECT-EVE

      Copyright © 2023 by Robert Jeschonek

      http://bobscribe.com/

      Cover Art Copyright © 2023 by Ben Baldwin

      www.benbaldwin.co.uk

      This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

      All rights reserved by the author.

      A Busted Books book

      Published by Busted Books

      411 Chancellor Street

      Johnstown, Pennsylvania 15904

      www.piepresspublishing.com

      ALSO BY ROBERT JESCHONEK

      Crimes in the Key of Murder

      Six Crime Stories Volume One

      The Masked Family

      The Other Waiter

      THE FIRST DETECT-EVE

      The Tree of Knowledge didn't exactly teach us everything we needed to know...like what to do with a dead man's body, for example.

      From experience, we knew that when an animal died, its body would rot and stink after a while.  We'd figured out it was best to burn or bury them, but I guess we still thought people were different.  The Voice had told us we would die someday, but it never really sank in until we finally saw a dead man.

      My dead son, that is.  Sweet, beautiful Abel, the light of my miserable life.

      When we found him, lying out in the field, we just didn't know what to do with him.  To tell you the truth, we didn't even realize he was dead at first. He wasn't breathing, and he wouldn't respond when we shook him and spoke to him, but we weren't too bright back in those days.  Maybe he was just sleeping soundly. Maybe he was in a trance. Maybe it was some kind of magic. Anything was possible back then.

      I figured it out before my husband, but that didn't come as a surprise.  Adam had his good qualities, don't get me wrong, but when God was handing out brains, he kind of got an early model, if you know what I mean.  Not to mention that he was drunk a lot of the time, including that particular day. Unfortunately, he'd discovered the joys of fermented grapes before learning how to work out his problems constructively.

      Let's just say, ever since we got thrown out of Eden, Adam had his share of problems.

      Anyway, once I finally got it through my head that something bad had happened to my boy, I got upset.  My husband was no help, of course, because he was convinced Abel would wake up at any moment. There I was, in more pain than I'd experienced since Abel's birth, just crying my eyes out...and Adam insisted on carrying Abel back to his bed at our camp so he'd be comfortable for the rest of his nap.

      After which, Adam proceeded to stretch himself out on his own bed of straw to sleep off the grapes.

      So I was left alone to mourn for my dead son, and it was terrible.  Keep in mind, this was the first time I'd lost a loved one...the first time anyone had lost a loved one, in fact.  These days, I've had a lot more experience with that kind of thing, which still doesn't make it easy, but it's never been as bad as that first time.

      I cried and screamed all afternoon and all night.  Sometimes, I'd calm down a little and sit there in a daze, like nothing had happened...but then, I'd look at my dead boy again and remember everything in a rush, and I'd start right back up again with the weeping.

      Once, I pretended to convince myself that Adam had been right, and Abel was just sleeping after all.  I knelt beside my boy and caressed his hand, calling his name in the darkness.

      This, of course, accomplished nothing.  The crying caught up to me again, worse than ever.

      I think I cried for three days straight.  My husband chimed in on day two, by which time Abel's body had started to stink...but thanks to his stockpile of rotten grapes, Adam never went as far as I did.  Before I knew it, he was snoring on his bed again.

      As for me, I eventually passed out from sheer exhaustion.  By the time I keeled over, my stomach ached, my throat was sore, and my eyes burned like open wounds.

      Miraculously, when I awakened, I wasn't sad anymore.  I was angry.

      Furious would be a better word.  More than anything in the world, I wanted to find out who had done this to my boy.

      And do the same to him.

      That much was clear to me, even then.  What had happened to Abel was no accident.

      At first, it wasn't obvious, because of the way he'd been killed.  It wasn't like someone had stabbed him with a sharp object or bashed his head in with a rock.  There was no blood, no gaping wound.

      But his throat was bruised purple and crushed.  There were two circular bruises in front, on either side of his windpipe, the size of fat grapes.  Or thumbs.

      Though I'd never seen the evidence of a murder before, I recognized it for what it was when I saw it.

      When the worst of the crying had passed, I told Adam to

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