A Color by Words writing challenge: 10 Sentence Short Story

Deathbed Confession

The body was frozen solid, making it nearly impossible to move. Why the old man had decided to off himself with all the windows open in the middle of January was a mystery to me.
My partner and I looked for clues while the team from the coroner’s office struggled to lift the corpse into the body bag.
“Sir?” one of them called out to me, waving a sheet of paper with his gloved hand. I took it from him and quickly scanned the neatly handwritten page.
My jaw dropped as I read the words, ‘the rest of the bodies are buried in the apple orchard.’ We had just found the murderer we’d been searching for all these years. The man, who for the last decade had been known as the ‘cider-house killer’ had been hiding right under our noses all this time.
I cursed under my breath as I showed the confession to my partner.  “Son of a bitch!” he exclaimed, as the coroner’s men finally managed to zip closed the body bag on the remains of the chief of police.

Three Empty Frames: A Bucks County Novel, A Synopsis

Life just got complicated for Jennifer Dunne. Her dead mother’s diary has revealed clues to a famous art heist from the 1960s. Have the missing masterpieces been hidden among her things all this time? Jen is targeted by a pair of ruthless criminals who certainly think so. Meanwhile, she’s falling in love with her new lawyer, who works with her to unravel the clues. But will the fledgling relationship survive when another handsome rival appears on the scene? And have the clues to the whereabouts of the missing masterpieces led them astray? Were the paintings hidden in plain sight all along?

Jane: part three

”I found her like this when I brought her the mail,” Jane told the police officer. “It’s not my custom to check in on her every minute.”
“Well, Ma’am, it appears she’s been dead for a few hours. I’m so sorry,” he said sympathetically.
Jane’s husband put an arm around her and led her from the room. “It wasn’t your fault,” he murmured. “She had a bad heart. This was bound to happen one of these days.”
Jane and her husband sat on the sofa in her mother’s living room while the coroner dealt with the remains. After the body had been loaded into the hearse for its trip to the morgue, Jane and her husband went up to their second floor apartment. Jane stifled a smile as the weight seemed to lift from her shoulders.
“Shall we order in?” her husband asked.
“Yes, yes. That would be quite nice,” Jane replied. “Can I fix you a drink? I think I need one right about now.”
“Just a beer, love. If there’s one left.”
“Of course,” she said, opening a Carlsberg for him. She pulled a tumbler from the cabinet and filled it halfway with a dose of Glenlivet. The smoky amber liquid warmed her insides on the way down. “So where should we order from?”
“Listen,” he began hesitatingly. “There’s something I wanted to ask you about… Maybe this isn’t the best time… But…”
“Go on, what is it?”
“Well, er… It’s my mother. You know she hasn’t been well. I thought now that the apartment is going to be free…”
The blood roared in her ears and the room spun around her. Every day would be the same. She would wake in the morning with a knot in the pit of her stomach and pretend to be asleep while her husband prepared himself for the workday. Jane swirled the last of the smoky amber liquid around in her glass and drained it in one gulp. Then she stared at her husband and wept.