ABOUT THE BOOK
Jack Wellington moves from the big city to make a new start. He jumps at the opportunity to become a detective in Summerville.
A peculiar case is assigned to him as artwork has been stolen and a dog is missing. Fellow detective Charlie Finch, a man adorned with decades of service, uncovers clues with Jack. They become intrigued by the words and actions of a neighborhood boy and wonder how much he might know.
Clues are followed but it’s the kids in the neighborhood who provide the most relevant clues. As Jack gets closer to them with their questions, the pressure of the kids struggle unfolds.
A puzzling crime, a struggle to balance life, the challenges to succeed in a new department, in the little town of Summerville.
Book Details:
Title: The Little Town of Summerville - A Dog Named
Chubby
Author: R. T. Douglass
Genre: cozy mystery / literary
fiction
Published: November, 1, 2021
Print length: 200 pages
LOVE IT OR LEAVE IT WITH R.T. DOUGLASS
Things you need in order to write: music playing in the background. Lots of variety, as long as it’s not too heavy.
Things that hamper your writing: getting too tired seems to dissolve good ideas. Also, the corky things (a bad review, an unexpected bill, etc.) that can happen in life which may require some time to figure out and then I can get back to undistracted writing.
Easiest thing about being a writer: the freedom to express a story with only the boundaries that I have set in place.
Hardest thing about being a writer: finding the balance of showing enough detail so the intention cannot be misunderstood but not going so far it becomes boring.
Things you love about where you live: it’s a quiet refuge for me: a small mid-west town surrounded by the farmlands. The local events are simple and the invites to backyard BBQs are often.
Things that make you want to move: the stores and restaurants are limited so a country drive is needed now and then.
Things you never want to run out of: coffee.
Things you wish you’d never bought: the 100 pack of floppy disks.
Words that describe you: short in stature, big in heart, someone who enjoys life. A husband and father with a son in college and a daughter in high school. Will plan carefully but not afraid to take risks.
Words that describe you but you wish they didn’t: usually good on the social side but sometimes lost for some reason and can become introverted, wishing I was writing so I could edit my next sentence forty times to get it to sound right.
Favorite foods: pies - any kind made fresh is fantastic. My favorite lunch is grilled chicken salad with an iced tea. BBQs on nights and weekends with sides of veggies also brings big smiles.
Things that make you want to throw up: Tuna Noodle Casserole. It’s an evil degradation of tuna. It’s so gross, I wouldn’t even serve it to a cat.
Favorite music: I did many road trips with Dad and eventually got addicted to big band music: Glenn Miller, Artie Shaw, Duke Ellington, etc.. There are no more road trips and I have Dad's big band collection now, but I still spin the albums and CDs. I also listen to just about every kind of music and enjoy lots of the new music.
Music that make your ears bleed: the heavy metal, the heavy rap, and the country music that is so syrupy sweet with its phony country accent and, no surprise, every song sounds the same. But don’t get me wrong—there’s plenty of country music that sounds great.
Favorite beverage: although it is a rarity to have one, old school Coca-Cola is my favorite.
Something that gives you a pickle face: Abraham Lincoln said it best. “If this is coffee, please bring me some tea; but if this is tea, please bring me some coffee.”
People you consider as heroes: people who make positive changes at the local level - in the local community (and yes, there are plenty of local communities in the big cities). It’s just my opinion, but that’s where I think the greatest impact resides to form a better society.
People with a big L on their foreheads: people who make big promises to form a better society but their history and personal life doesn’t match what they are saying.
Last best thing you ate: Triple Chocolate Layer Cake.
Last thing you regret eating: Triple Chocolate Layer Cake.
Favorite places you’ve been: the rivers and streams high up in the Colorado rocky mountains. It radiates with a natural beauty. There’s living creatures everywhere and at night you can see more stars than you ever dreamed existed.
Places you never want to go to again: I’m not much for the big cities, but I have lots of friends who live in the cities, so not trying to down it—it’s just not me.
EXCERPT FROM THE LITTLE TOWN OF SUMMERVILLE
Jack poured a coffee and reached the back door with mug in hand. He stepped onto the screened-in porch as the twilight of morning brightened the yard. He enjoyed the peaceful surroundings of the porch. It was completely different from the small apartment he left behind a few months ago. He had worked in the Saint Louis police department for five years and jumped at the opportunity to work in Summerville.
He settled into an old wicker chair he’d found at a garage sale and grabbed the tablet lying next to it to get caught up on sports and local news. He was on his second mug when the phone hummed away on the table. He noticed the number was from the police station.
“Hello, this is Jack.”
“Hi Jack, this is Captain Ottoman. I need you to get over to 28 Little Creek Lane. Someone was in the house during the night and the homeowner is very upset.”
The captain sounded tired and cranky with no patience for conversation, so Jack didn’t bother explaining it was supposed to be his day off.
“Yes sir. I can get over there right away.”
“Thank you,” and the captain ended the call.
Jack got back inside, buzzed the electric shaver over his face, jumped into some clean clothes, and was out the door quickly. He thought about the history of the town as he drove to the location.
Summerville had been founded during the railroad days of long ago. It was a crossroads of railway tracks built by the Summers Rail & Cargo Company. John Summers became so impressed with the area he established the town and moved his family to the beautiful location with its wide valley and soft hills. Blueprints were drawn for the town which included shops, neighborhoods, and parks, which would enjoy the modern luxuries of the era, and of course, the ability to travel by railway.
Today Summerville still enjoyed the shops of the downtown area, its many parks, and the atmosphere of its small college. A group of businessmen and a strong town council maintained the town with its modest Midwest economy. At times, a getaway for some of the city dwellers to get refreshed by the small-town charm. It was a pretty town, safe and friendly, and Jack Wellington intended to keep it that way.
Jack pulled up to 28 Little Creek Lane as the sun cast its long early morning shadows. Each lawn had its own style, with a tree or two in the front yard and shrubs along the side that acted like a fence. There were sidewalks on the narrow residential street which had gas streetlamps that would shine day and night.
He got out of the car and checked his dark hair in the reflection of the car window. He was above average height with a lean and strong build for a mid-twenties guy, but his collar was crooked. He shook his head, rebuttoned his shirt, and hoped no one was watching as he tucked it back into his pants. A quick check to make sure he had pen and notepad in his back pocket, and he took the walkway across the yard to the front porch entrance. Up the stairs, across the porch, and a few taps on the door. The homeowner opened the door.
“Hello. I’m Jack Wellington from the Summerville police department. Captain Ottoman asked me to come over this morning.”
The homeowner tried to smile, but her eyes were swollen with a sunken tainted darkness around them. Her sterling gray hair looked a bit out of place with a sadness upon her face.
“So, you’re a policeman?”
“Yes, I’m a detective,” and Jack showed her his credentials.
She gave a soft grasp of Jack’s hand, “I’m Elizabeth Ashley,” and she invited him into her home. They walked down the entrance hallway and dropped into the living room. Two couches and a couple of chairs formed a horseshoe with a coffee table in the center. The couches faced each other, and the chairs sat on the end with a straight view to a fireplace. She sat on the couch and Jack took a chair.
***
Excerpt from The Little Town of Summerville - A Dog Named Chubby by Robert Douglass. Copyright 2021 by Robert Douglass. Reproduced with permission from Robert Douglass. All rights reserved.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Robert likes reading, writing, and exploring natural wonders. His favorite pastime is telling tall stories around the campfire.
Other interests include driving old sports cars on country roads, watching baseball, college football and an occasional movie, but the main interest is writing a story more entertaining than the last one.
Connect with Robert:
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