Suzanne Berube Rorhus

Cereal Killer (sample)

I stared at the police officer hanging upside down from my flagpole. He was suspended thirty feet over my head, adding a decorative touch to the massive shaft sprouting from my lawn. My flagpole would do a car dealership proud, standing forty feet tall and flying an American flag the size of my comforter. The pole had come with the house, along with shag carpeting, a moldy odor, and a gorgeous view of Beadle Lake. I‘d rented the house for the view.

The house also came with a handsome neighbor, Officer Andrew Baird. On the positive side, I liked living next to a cop. If anyone broke into my home, my screams would be heard by a state-certified sniper.

On the negative side, I was more likely to be the victim of a practical joke than a home invasion. I had, in fact, often been the victim of Andrew’s unique sense of humor.

My name is Elizabeth Hart, and I’m an assistant prosecuting attorney in Battle Creek, Michigan. Whenever my boss decides not to prosecute a case, I’m the one who suffers Andrew’s wrath. Last winter, pepper spray in the heating vents of my car forced me to bike to work for a week. My lawn still sported a frowny face from last summer, when, after I had allowed a rapist to plea down to battery, Andrew had illustrated his feelings by burning my grass with fertilizer.

I gazed up at him now, rubbing the kink in my neck with one hand. His helmet fell off, barely missing my shoulder before landing with a thump in the soft dirt around the pole. I jumped aside to avoid anything else that might drop, like 220 pounds of man and equipment.

“Watch it up there, copper,” I called, shielding my eyes from the harsh noon sun. Summer had finally arrived in Michigan, just in time for the Fourth of July. My flagpole’s big day was almost upon us, and I couldn’t raise a flag.

Andrew grinned, and my stomach lurched. Man, he was hot. He swung lazily from his rappelling harness, a pendulum of muscle and sinew.

“Come on down,” I coaxed. “I’ll make you lunch—egg salad, maybe?” He’d been up there for a half-hour, and my neck was getting stiff. I never tired of the view, however. Beadle Lake had nothing on the sight of Andrew dressed up in his battle-rattle.

(end of sample)

Published in 2011 by Untreed Reads. and available for sale at untreedreads.com or Barnes and Noble, Amazon, and other online retailers. Click here to purchase.

"Island Shots" appeared in the winter 2010 issue of Mysterical-E, an ezine of mystery stories. In "Island Shots", a police officer on Martha's Vineyard Island faces off against his childhood friend. Read it for free in their archive.