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WolfSinger Publications

Don't Write What You Know;

Write What You Care About -- Passionately!

da kid
- Rich Kisielewski

A Harry Mickey Shorts Mystery

Much  to his surprise, Harry Mickey Shorts gets a call from Mel, his  ex-brother-in-law, who needs his help. It is a rare occasion when Mel  asks Harry for anything at all never mind his help. When it does happen  Harry takes notice and drops what he is doing to see what it is that  troubles “Big Mel.”  

Over a few cool ones Mel tells Harry a long-winded tale from his past  involving a kid he had coached. Little Billy Burns had walked out of the  gym before the end of a basketball game and soon vanished all together.  Mel’s belief that he had somehow failed Billy has lingered and he now  sees an opportunity to rectify that wrong.

With the help of his friend, Tom, Harry’s investigation takes him back  to Central Pennsylvania to meet with Billy who currently resides in the  Cumberland County jail. Their journey begins with an introduction to  Billy’s extended con-artist family and ultimately to some Las Vegas  hustlers who are looking to continue their venture into golf course  swindles. And at long last is Mel’s reunion with Billy. At the same time  Harry’s part-time interest in his ex-wife, his love for his children  and his continued attempt to become an integral part of their lives,  continues to complicate his own life.


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Chapter 1

Eighteen  years old. No, make that more like eighteen going on forty-three. He  had seen, and done, and probably forgotten more “stuff” than any ten  normal kids his age combined. Unfortunately, all of his streetwise  wisdom and “I can do dat better than you can, succa” attitude don’t add  up to squat when the man lays the cuffs on you and drags your sorry butt  down to the place with bars on the windows and three free squares a  day.

Maybe  I should jump back a few steps and let you in on what’s going on here.  My name is Harry because I’m told an aunt promised to lay some bread on  me if my mom named me Harold. I don’t believe it one little bit because I  didn’t see a single dime and, to my knowledge, neither did my moms.

Oh  yeah, it’s Harry, or should I say Harold Mickey Shorts, which wasn’t my  given name when I was ushered into this wonderful world of ours. My  original name didn’t cut it in my eyes and the Mick, Mr. Mantle, is my  all-time favorite ballplayer courtesy of my dad. Plus, my original last  name was way too long. Wearing tee shirts and shorts is how God intended  us to dress, so that’s how I came up with my new and improved  name—"Shorts"—which just happens to be a great conversation topic for  the ladies.

By  trade I guess you would call me a private investigator, but I’m not  your ordinary run-of-the-mill, every-day private dick. Kizmet  Incorporated is what my business card would say, if I had one. Mel had  called and said he needed help. My help. For Mel, my ex-brother-in-law  (EBIL for short) to ask Harry Mickey Shorts for help, any help, hell  would have had to have frozen over and the “Devils” would have been  practicing a long time for the upcoming hockey season. But, when I’m  asked for help you best jump back because I’m coming through to do  anything in my power to mend what needs mending.

Yup, here we go again…Harry Mickey Shorts style.

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