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    The Search for Amston Treasure
    The Search for Amston Treasure
    The Search for Amston Treasure
    Ebook128 pages1 hour

    The Search for Amston Treasure

    By Larry Zimmerman

    ()

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    About this ebook

    With help from Margot St. Ronan and accompanied by the prodigious Wendell, Dirk Adler follows an arduous trail involving enigmatic poems, hidden messages, bible verses, and an electronic device, to find a very valuable treasure. Unfortunately, another person, who won't hesitate to eliminate the competition, is also looking for the same treasure. Will it spell the end for Dirk when the two meet?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLarry Zimmerman
    Release dateJan 21, 2013
    ISBN9780988754621
    The Search for Amston Treasure
    Author

    Larry Zimmerman

    Larry E. Zimmerman graduated from the University of Hartford with a major in mathematics and a minor in literature. He worked for IBM as a Technical Industry Specialist and retired after 25 years. During that time, he taught programming classes, wrote many application programs and manuals for the banking industry. In retirement, he teaches poetry and short story writing to adults and senior citizens. Larry has won a number of awards for his poetry and short stories. He is known in Amston CT, for his mystery books that take place in the local environment.

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      Book preview

      The Search for Amston Treasure - Larry Zimmerman

      THE SEARCH FOR AMSTON TREASURE

      by

      Larry E. Zimmerman

      Book 5 of the Amston Lake mystery series

      * * * * *

      Published by: Blue Pinion Enterprises at Smashwords

      Copyright 2013 by Larry E. Zimmerman

      lezim@comcast.net

      This book is available in print from Blue Pinion Enterprises. Order books from:

      http://www.amstonbooks.com

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      All rights reserved. The characters and animals in this story are fictional and bear no resemblance to people or animals living or dead.

      Amston Lake Map

      Dark as ebon, moonless night,

      I sailed the liquid sea,

      And ne’er did find my treasure’s gold,

      Nor did my love find me.

      From the Water Bible

      By Larry E. Zimmerman

      Dedicated to my lifelong friend,

      Philip R. Craig,

      Who gave me the encouragement to keep writing.

      Table of Contents

      Title Page and Front Matter

      Map of Amston Lake

      Quotes

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Epilogue

      About the author

      Other Amston Lake mysteries

      Chapter 1

      I was bored. I couldn’t work on my shack, since I had no money to buy supplies from Home Depot or any other store. My heavens, now I am calling my house a shack. Probably because everyone else (including Margot), called it a shack. However, I bought it cheap as a handyman’s delight. Now all it needed was a little love and a lot of sweat. Well, maybe it needed something else. Something called money. Sure, it was a money pit, but it had potential. I saw it as an investment. I have a vision of what it would be like when all the renovations were finished. There is no rush, since I’m retired and have all the time in the world. I kept hoping Margot had the same visions and would picture my shack/house as a future nest for the both of us.

      I had almost, but not quite, given up trying to persuade Margot to invite me to live with her or vice versa. After all, a beautiful, intelligent woman should not live alone. Doesn’t every woman need a real man? Alas, she has a problem with that word real. Margot has a nice house over on Deepwood Drive on the other side of Amston Lake. She has no incentive to leave it. She had already experienced a very bad marriage, and was in no hurry to make another serious commitment with me or anyone else. Margot has an excellent job at The Hartford Insurance Group. She won’t leave that job until retirement. I could wait for her, however, I always wondered if she will wait for me. I have told her many times (in addition to the real man comment), that I would be an excellent catch, being handsome, debonair, intelligent, affable, refined, suave, courteous, cheerful, and just a tad weird. Margot’s response was that the only thing that was an excellent catch around Amston Lake was the largemouth bass.

      Joe Wolf and Veronica had gone to Florida for the winter. Joe and I were good friends now, after Margot and I were almost killed by one of his goons, and I testified against Joe at his trial for art theft. Joe avoided being an accomplice in Lou Smithers’ murder, but received a sentence of a year in jail for his purloined antique maps. He apparently held no animosity towards me for his lost year. He told me that he felt his arrest was inevitable, and if I hadn’t blown the whistle on him, someone else probably would have. I think his anger was softened considerably by the fact that he was able to hide most of his illegal gains from the FBI and IRS. He hinted to me that most of his profits were invested in offshore accounts. He had no need to hold a full time job and didn’t want to, since he lived comfortably off his investments. Now, since we both have the time and no obligations, we hang out together, drink beer, and enjoy the excellent fishing in Amston Lake. Life is strange.

      Veronica is Joe’s eye candy. She doesn’t win a prize for brainpower, but she sure is delightful to look at. She dresses for the men (I doubt it is for the women), and is completely unabashed about displaying her body. Joe seems to like it also, but at times, she does go overboard on how few clothes she wears and Joe has to rein her in a bit. My greatest fear is that one day Veronica might let slip about the little tryst we shared while Joe was in prison. It was a one-time thing and meant nothing to either of us. It was a passing fling that was more experimental than serious. However, if either Margot or Joe found out about it, I would have to take the next plane to Siberia.

      Margot was on some consulting mission to North Carolina and would not be back until Friday. Wendell, my pet pygmy pot-bellied pig, was all the company I had, which resulted in him trying to understand English and me trying to understand pig. Neither of us was doing well although Wendell was better at it than I was. I had found Wendell in a ditch by the side of Exeter Road in Lebanon a few years ago. He was just a little lost piglet then, cold, and shivering. I made a half-hearted attempt to locate his owner, but after a day together, I knew that Wendell would be with me ’til death do us part.

      I have never wanted a pet, but Wendell was special. He was the smartest pet that I had ever known. At times, he was just a pig and did pig things like rooting in my front lawn and wallowing in the mud by the outside faucet. Then he did human things like saving my life from a bomb planted in my house and helping rescue Margot from a killer. I often thought that Wendell should replace Lassie on the TV show.

      Wendell was my constant companion. He loved to ride in the truck with me and was in his glory when he poked his snout out of the window, feeling the cool air in his face. He was delighted when someone would come up to my truck and scratch his head between his ears and talk to him. He was always being compared to Wilbur in Charlotte’s Web. I retorted that Wilbur was greatly outclassed by Wendell.

      I was tired of fishing alone. After you catch all the fish in the lake, with no one around to admire the big ones or your fishing skills, there is nowhere to go. I suspected I was even starting to catch the exact same bass that I had previously caught. Just for something to do, I hooked up my depth finder to the side of my bass boat and cruised around the lake, looking for schools of fish and checking the lake bottom for anything interesting. While I was daydreaming about Margot, I caught the flash of a large shadow rapidly crossing the depth finder screen. That must have been one gargantuan fish. I turned up the electric motor to full power and went in the

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