Framed for Murder

My name is Charlie English. I'm thirty-eight and homeless, so when a man offered me forty bucks to deliver a message and another forty when I had, I jumped at the chance. I shouldn't have. I walked into the house -- and a murder scene -- barely getting away before the cops arrived.<br><br>I needed to get out from under the frame, and knew a private detective who might be willing to help me. There’s one problem, though. He’s my ex-lover, which could make things dicey.<br><br>He’s less than happy to see me when I show up at his office ... until I tell him why I’m there. That piques his interest. Now it’s a case of finding out who the dead man was, who killed him, and proving it wasn't me. Can we succeed ... while dealing with our renewed interest in each other?

Edward Kendrick · LGBT+

Not enough ratings

33 Chs

Chapter 9

I unwrapped one of the burgers, took a bite, and almost moaned at how good it tasted. A day without eating will do that to a guy. I scarfed it down before taking out the second one and the fries. I ate them slowly, savoring every bite. At one point I looked at Trent and saw him watching me sympathetically. He quickly glanced away, so I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to embarrass him.

By the time we finished it was almost eight-thirty, according to the clock on the dresser. I figured Trent would be ready to leave. He obviously had other ideas.

“We need to find out more about Mr. Pender,” he said, getting the laptop. “If this place has Wi-Fi…” He opened the laptop and turned it on. I thought that was a vain wish. Apparently I was wrong, or somewhere close by did that he was able to tap into, because a few moments later he was online.

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