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    A Fortune in Amston Lake
    A Fortune in Amston Lake
    A Fortune in Amston Lake
    Ebook142 pages1 hour

    A Fortune in Amston Lake

    By Larry Zimmerman

    ()

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    About this ebook

    During a romantic picnic on Dibella's Island on Amston Lake, Dirk and Margot notice lights moving under the water. While investigating, Dirk finds a rare Dutch gold coin on the Sunken Island. How did a 300-year-old coin end up in Amston Lake? Having the coin puts Dirk’s life in danger. With help from a woman he knew years ago, they learn who wants to kill Dirk and where more coins can be found.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLarry Zimmerman
    Release dateApr 10, 2013
    ISBN9780988754669
    A Fortune in Amston Lake
    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

      A Fortune in Amston Lake - Larry Zimmerman

      A FORTUNE IN AMSTON LAKE

      by

      Larry E. Zimmerman

      Book 9 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.

      Map of Amston Lake

      In remembrance of my son Douglas,

      who was my fortune.

      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

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Chapter 20

      Chapter 21

      Chapter 22

      Chapter 23

      Chapter 24

      Chapter 25

      Chapter 26

      Chapter 27

      About the Author

      Other Amston Lake mysteries

      Chapter 1

      Margot packed a picnic basket and came over to my house around seven o’clock. I supplied the wine and some snacks. The wine was Copper Ridge, a white zinfandel, made by Gallo. One evening for supper, we had gone to a restaurant over in East Haddam, and asked for a white zinfandel wine. They served us Copper Ridge. I discovered, much to my delight, that the wine made Margot sexy. I wanted more of that wine. When I tried to buy it at a package store, I was informed it was only sold in restaurants. Not satisfied with that answer, I went on the internet and found one exclusive distributor of the wine. I ordered a case. A 12-bottle case only cost me a little over $100.

      I had called up Greg Baier to ask if I could use his large sailboat the Hope and Anchor. I had borrowed it before. I liked it because it was roomy, and included a cabin below decks where two people could be entirely alone. I was sad to learn that Greg sold it. The boat was no longer on the lake. Not very observant of me. I never knew it was gone. Margot and I were now relegated to my rowboat. That was a real comedown. How sexy is a moonlit night sitting in a little rowboat. Margot didn’t seem to care. I was frustrated.

      Amston Lake is one of the few lakes in Connecticut that doesn’t allow gas motors of any type, just electric motors. That was one of the main reasons that I looked for a house there, at a quiet lake. I wanted a lakefront cottage or house; however, they were not to be found. Houses at the shore of the lake usually stayed in families for generations. I settled for a handyman’s delight cottage on a no name dirt road hidden back in the trees and bushes. It suited me fine since I was a loner and didn’t mix well with people. My house was listed as a seasonal cottage. Unbeknownst to the Lebanon Town Assessor, I had converted it into a year round house. I hope they never find out about it. I will plead ignorance if they do.

      I loaded the battery and electric motor in my old truck. I added paddles in case the battery died, and seat cushion life preservers that is required by law (not that I was ever worried about that). I put a couple of bottles of wine in my cooler and covered them with ice. White Zin is one of the few wines that should be served cold, in my opinion. I put some wine glasses in the cooler also. I just can’t drink wine from a paper cup. That insults the wine. I put a tin of Hubs peanuts, block cheese, a box of wheat thins, some cheese doodles, in a bag and put them in back of the truck along with the cooler. As an afterthought, I threw in a blanket and some bug spray. I hoped that we would have our supper on the shore somewhere.

      I had to put Wendell and Winky, my two pygmy pot bellied pigs, in their pen. They were excess baggage to a romantic evening. Wendell used to be pissed when I put him in the pen. He hated to be left home alone when I went somewhere. Now, that Winky was with him, he didn’t seem to mind. Wendell was Winky’s dad. I had found Wendell by the roadside in Lebanon when he was a piglet. Recently, he fathered a litter of eight, of which, Winky was the runt of the litter. To save Winky from being a ham sandwich, I selected him, rather than take a regular sized pig. It was a great selection. He was a smart little tyke and learned fast.

      I waited for Margot, who came promptly at seven. She was learning from me. When I was working for the Pfizer Corporation as a systems/programmer troubleshooter, I learned the hard way that promptness is a sign of courtesy. When I was a rookie, I arrived late to a meeting. My boss had locked the door promptly at four o’clock, the time scheduled for the meeting. I could not get in the room and was not allowed in. Needless to say, I was embarrassed and never missed another meeting.

      Margot and I have been a thing for so long now, that I have just about given up on us getting married or at least living together. Margot still suffered from a disastrous marriage. She and her husband were young and happy when they married. They were a handsome couple in a fairy tale setting, both with good jobs and with an ideal future ahead of them. Then her husband somehow became hooked on drugs. Their lives went into a downward spiral, finally ending when Margot came home from work one day and found her husband hanging by his neck from the back porch of their third floor cheap rental apartment. Margot recovered physically from that time in her life, but not emotionally. Another marriage was out of the question, at least for the foreseeable future.

      Shortly after I moved into my handyman’s delight, a tree limb came down during a violent storm and damaged my porch and part of the house. Since Margot worked for my insurance company and lived here at Amston Lake, she came over to assess the damage. I was taken immediately by her beauty and her professionalism. On a whim, I asked her out to supper. To my surprise, she accepted. We have been an item ever since.

      We drove over to Lollypop Beach and made several trips down to my boat with all our stuff. Of course, Margot chewed me out for not having a cover on my boat and not turning it upside down. It was filled with rainwater. I dumped the water out, and wiped off the seats with some napkins from the picnic basket that Margot had brought. We loaded the boat and motored out onto the lake.

      Margot had an idea. Let’s go over to Dibella’s Island. I am not going to have a picnic in this little boat, and the mosquitoes are going to be bad along the shore. I don’t believe Bob Dibella will mind us using his island for a few hours.

      "I didn’t know that island had a name. Do you know

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