1. Murder on the Mainline: another Mike Claymore Mystery Copywrite: 2000


    Date: 1/9/2015, Categories: Fiction, Consensual Sex, Death, Erotica, Exhibitionism, Hardcore, Horror, Male/Female, Mature, Murder, Non-consensual sex, Rape, Romance, Violence, Author: davebccanada, Rating: 83.3, Source: sexstories.com

    “Eight fifteen.” “Hell’s bells! I was hoping my watch was wrong. Guess we better get on the road.” He comes climbing out of the sleeper and pulls the tractor around to the fuel pumps. “Might as well top up here,” he grins, “Save our supply at home.” By nine-thirty they are on the westbound trail rolling down the slopes of the Purcell Mountains. Through the fertile valleys they roll and around noon are approaching the Nelson Range and the town of Creston. Number 3 highway is a much slower route than Number One due to the grades and corners. Number One is the Trans Canada Highway and thus has been improved with longer and easier corners and lesser grades. Number 3 is typical of mountain roads everywhere. There are long steep grades and quick abrupt corners at the bottom with narrow bridges to navigate. It will be like this all the way back to the Fraser Valley at Hope. There’s no stopping in Creston. It’s straight through on highway 3A then 3 again to Osoyoos and the Okanogan Valley. As they swing north to Keromeos they are less than a hundred miles from the route they followed east two days ago. It’s after five as Mike pulls into the last fruit stand in Keromeos to stretch his legs, check the rig and pick up a case of apples for his wife. They also grab a cool cider each and chat with the attendant. “Are you hungry, Lenny?” asks Mike as they head back to the truck. “I was thinking of stopping for some Kentucky Fried Chicken in Princeton. Can you make it?” Len’s reply, “Lead ...
    on. Sounds good to me!” By seven twenty they are parked on the shoulder of the road in Princeton by the KFC. They bring their food to a picnic table overlooking the Similkamine River flowing noisily with spring run-off. The weather is mild. Len breaks the moody silence, “Why are you still driving rigs, Mike? I thought you were doing well with that insurance investigations business for the Provincial government.” Mike shrugs, “Not enough work in the small town of Abbotsford to keep a guy going steady. I was working for a local security company as their insurance fraud investigator. The pay was good and I have the background in security from back east in Ontario, but we’re settled in Abbotsford now and there are just not enough jobs to keep a guy going full time… and I enjoy driving truck.” “Why not take on a partner and do long hauls back east. I would think the money would be better and it would be steadier. One run a week, Vancouver to Toronto, and the rest of the week off.” Mike grins, “The long hauls don’t sit well with my wife. This is bad enough. She complains that I am never home now, as it is. I probably won’t have another run this week. She’ll be happy.” “And then again, they might have another load for you tomorrow.” “That’s true but my wife finds this job tolerable because most weeks I only have a single run and it’s only to Calgary or the Okanogan. I can often do some investigations on the side the rest of the week. It’s work near home, I’m home for supper and it ...
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