Finally a plot

      Excerpt 2.5 (posted Tuesday if you haven't read it yet) nearly marked the end of the book when I was writing it. Murder by Dewey Decimal was the very first book I attempted to write. I didn't know anything about plotting or even writing itself. I was typing away with no idea of where I was going or why people were doing what they were doing. In other words, I didn't know why Agatha, Leonard and Lisa were attacked. But I realized after the attack on Lisa that I needed a plot. Or least a reason why these three very different people had been targeted.
      So I put the book aside for nearly a month. I almost gave up. Finally I sat down with a piece of paper and begin to list reasons that people kill other people. I began to chart possible connections between Agatha, Leonard and Lisa. I drew lines, jotted notes, discarded ideas (for instance, for a while there, Lisa was a lost Ryton family heir) and generally stumbled my way through an outline. Things got better from there. I knew why those three had been attacked. I knew what scenes were supposed to happen when. And I knew how the book was going to end.
      Well, I mostly knew those things. The book would have several more nasty surprises to throw at me before I finished it, but none of them would make me nearly quit.
      And now we start Chapter Three.

Excerpt 3.1 from Murder by Dewey Decimal
Copyright 2007. All rights reserved.

      "You'll just have to wait for the doctor," the nurse said and turned to answer the phone. The chief scowled at her back. He hauled himself off the counter and headed back to the waiting room, hoping that the doctor had come by in his absence.
      As he turned the corner, he could hear Sims questioning Bernard again. The chief allowed himself a brief moment of pity for the librarian. It was obvious that Bernard was having a hard time with all this. I'm not having it that easy myself, the chief thought.
      "Are you sure you can't think of any other details?" Sims asked Bernard.
      Bernard shook his head. "Like I've already said, it happened so fast I didn't get a good look at him. All I could tell about him was that he was wearing dark clothes and a red ski mask. We've already went over this twice--"
      "Did you notice anything about him when you fought?" Sims interrupted.
      Bernard sighed. "We didn't fight. Not really. When I came in, he was on top of Lisa, choking her. I grabbed him and pulled him off. He shoved me against the wall and then ran away. I stayed with Lisa and called the ambulance."
      "Could you tell how tall he was?" Sims asked.
      "Maybe my height or a little taller," Bernard said. "But I can't be sure."
      "Eyes?"
      "Yes, he had two, and no, I didn't see what color."
      "Any distinguishing features?" Sims persisted.
      "You mean, like a mermaid tattoo or a deep-sea diving scar?" Bernard snapped.
      "Give it a rest, Sims," the chief ordered. He dropped into a chair. "Has the doctor come yet?"
      "No," Bernard said.
      "They won't tell me anything up there," the chief said with a disgusted wave in the general direction of the nurses' station. "How bad did she look, Bernard?"
      "She was ... beat-up." Bernard looked at the floor. "But she woke up in the ambulance and talked a little." Sims leaned forward eagerly. Bernard looked at him disgustedly. "She didn't say anything important. Just wanted me to take care of her cat."
      "Who's the doctor?" the chief asked.
      "I think his name is Osborne."
      The chief nodded. "He's good. She's just lucky you came early."
      "Some luck," Bernard said shortly.
      "It could have been worse," the chief pointed out.
      "Just because it could have been worse, doesn't make what happened better," Bernard said.
      "She could be dead," the chief said bluntly. "We can be grateful that she isn't."
      After a moment, Bernard nodded.
      Wearily, the chief put his head back on the chair and listened to the muted sounds of the hospital. Maggie had once told him that no matter how quiet a hospital was, it still wasn't restful. He understood what she meant.
      Bernard broke the silence. "I don't get it. Why would anyone want to kill her?"
      "Maybe that wasn't his intention," Sims said. "He might have been intending to rob her -- or maybe rape her. I watched this movie where the killer would capture women and put them in his basement ..." His voice trailed off as the chief glared at him.
      "We'll know more after we talk to her," the chief said. He regarded Bernard. "How are you doing?"
      Bernard let out a long breath. "Okay, I guess. I think I'm more angry than anything else." He turned to look at the chief. "This isn't what I associated with Ryton. This seems more like New York City or some place like that."
      As the chief nodded soberly, he could feel his ulcer beginning to burn. He fumbled in his coat pocket and brought a roll of antacids, thinking glumly about the delicious dinner that Maggie had prepared and that his stomach would be in no shape to finish when he got home. He'd been right in the middle of enjoying the meal--despite the murders--when Sims had called about the attack. And what with two murders unsolved, one of which involved Lisa, the chief had decided that he wanted to talk her if that was possible.
      "Chief, could this be connected to the murder of Brewer?" Sims asked.
      "The thought has crossed my mind," the chief said. "Maybe someone thought she saw something."
      "Like who the murderer was?" Bernard asked.
      "Or his car," Sims said, excitedly.
      "It could also be completely unrelated," the chief said. "Let's talk to Lisa before we get all carried away."
      Deputy Harris entered and came over to the chief. "We looked around the neighborhood, Chief. Couldn't find anyone who shouldn't be there."
      "Did any of the neighbors see anything?" the chief asked.
      Harris shook his head. "For one thing, the house across the street from her is empty. It's up for sale. And so is the one next to it. The people in the house next door to hers on the south side weren't home. The other side is an apartment complex and it faces the other street. Hayden and McGraw are talking to the residents now, but it didn't look good when I left."
      "The way things have been going, I'm not surprised." The chief thought for a moment. "Listen, I want you to check every dumpster in that neighborhood. Look for a red ski mask and any dark clothes. Check any trashcans and anywhere else you think someone could throw some clothes."
      "Yes, sir."
      "And get Hayden and McGraw to help. It needs to be done before the trash trucks make their rounds."
      As Harris left, Sims asked, "Do you think they'll find anything?"
      "Maybe. If no one noticed him wearing a ski mask, he had to take it off, and he wouldn't want to be caught with it," the chief said. "Why don't you go up there and see if you can find out if we're going to get to talk to her."
      But Dr. Osborne was already heading toward them.
      "How is she?" the chief asked.
      "Fairly well all things considered," Osborne said. "I'm going to keep her overnight. She has a slight concussion, and the left side of her face suffered severe bruising as did her throat."
      "Can we talk with her?" the chief asked.
      "Yes, if necessary, but keep it short. She needs rest. Sleep will help her the most." Osborne looked at Bernard. "Are you Bernard?"
      "Yes."
      "She wanted me to give you her keys so you could get in her apartment and take care of her cat," the doctor said, handing the keys to Bernard.
      "I think I'll go in by myself," the chief said.
      "I--" Bernard started to protest.
      "It would be less stressful if she only saw one person now," Osborne said.
      Bernard nodded slowly. "Well, okay. Tell her I'll be by tomorrow. And the cat will be fine."
      "Sims, drive Bernard back over to Lisa's and then help Harris," the chief said.
      Sims and Bernard left. The chief followed Osborne into a room. Lisa lay in a bed, an IV attached to her arm. The left side of her face was swelled and reddish. The chief could see the heavy bruises on her throat. Her eyes were shut.
      "Lisa, it's Chief Donaldson," the chief said. "Can you talk for just a moment?"
      Her eyes opened. Her voice was a soft, painful whisper. "Yes."
      "Do you know who attacked you?" he asked.
      She shook her head.
      "Did you get a good look at him?"
      She shook her head again and closed her eyes.       Tears ran down her cheeks. The chief awkwardly patted her arm.
      "You might try tomorrow," Osborne said.
      The chief nodded. He patted her arm again, shook his head, and left quietly.

End excerpt. Copyright 2007. All right reserved.

      And now it's time for work. Did you register for the April 2007 Giveaway yet? Oh, there are new scrollies and new quotes. Have a great day. Talk to you later.