mystery

Between the Lies on The Fall Book Bash

December 2, 2015 By Barbara 3 Comments

~~~ FALL BOOK BASH ~~~ FALL BOOK BASH ~~~ FALL BOOK BASH ~~~

Author Joy DeKok is sharing an excerpt from her novel, Between the Lies, with us today. I’ve read this one and I can tell you that it is an absorbing story. It would make a terrific addition to your Christmas gift selections for that book-loving friend or family member you have a hard time buying for… or a little holiday gift for yourself.

Joy has been writing since she was a little girl. Her dream of being an author was front and center in her mind and after years of hard work, she has several books in publication. She has been traditionally published, but is now an indie author.

Joy works part time for her husband and puts in as many hours writing as she can. She prefers writing in the solitude of her office, but can also be found in area coffee shops now and then where the voices and energy of the real world infuse the words on the page.

She’s been married to Jon for 38 years. They live on 35 acres of woods and field between Pine Island and Rochester. Joy loves riding their John Deere Gator with her dogs, Sophie & Tucker, taking pictures and enjoying God. Although unable to have children of their own, they love their nieces, nephews, and the children of their friends. And most of them are having kids of their own and don’t mind sharing them with Joy and Jon at all.

Her latest release is Between the Lies. It’s the first book in a mystery/suspense series. Joy took some risks with the main character. As a former “kept” woman, Olivia Morgan is not easy to like, but she’s the character Joy was given to write about. Writing is like that.

Connect with Joy online: Facebook Twitter Google+ Tumblr LinkedIn

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BETWEEN THE LIES (excerpt)

Security called to let me know the private elevator was out-of-order, and I was told to use the public elevator. That had never happened in the ten years I’d lived there, but then neither had the night ahead of me.

A black stretch limo waited at the curb to take me to the ball. And I did it all without a fairy god-mother. Who needed a fat little old lady with a wand and a warning? Not me. No way.

Not until I found the dead guy anyway.

Lloyd, the building security guy, called to tell me my ride was waiting. When the elevator doors whispered open, I stepped in with a practiced little swish. I say practiced, because I had taken three trial runs and added what I thought might be an elegant little entrance move.

The guy in the elevator didn’t notice. He stood in the corner with his chin on his chest and his eyes half-closed and with a Twins cap sitting off-kilter on his head. What a stiff.

When the doors shut, our descent began with a slight shudder, and the man lurched forward and fell face-down near my feet.

“For crying out loud, man, it’s too early to be so drunk,” I muttered.

When the doors opened, I called out to the head of security who was seated at the front desk, “Can you help me with this guy?”

Lloyd, a former marine, rolled the man over, then jumped back. “Olivia, this man is dead.”

I gasped and stared at the guy and noticed his eyes were empty—devoid of life. His face, neck, and scalp were severely scarred. His cap now lay on the floor beside him. I assumed he used it to cover his face which looked tight and melted.

Instead of screaming or fleeing I went to my secret place; the one deep inside me I’d discovered the first time my father came to my room. I hadn’t been there in a long time, but I let the calm flow over me as I shut the door to my feelings. Besides, I had someplace to be, and losing it was not an option.

“Lloyd, I have to get going. You can handle this, right?”

“No. You are a witness and may have evidence on your dress or the bottom of your shoes.”

“Can you please get me out of here?” The body was blocking my exit, had ruined my elegant entrance into the foyer of the building, and was going to make me late for the evening.

Lloyd raised his hand as I tried to explain why I had to get out. He was already on his cell phone, telling someone Mr. Lyons would not appreciate it if the St. Paul police department didn’t send someone over “pronto.” When he hung up he looked at me and said, “Stay put.” He left no room for argument so I stayed with the guy. The very dead guy.

Within minutes, a swarm of police and other officials had the area cordoned off with yellow tape, and hustled around like bees in a hive. At first glance, it seemed chaotic, but their movements were strategically choreographed.

And there was a coroner. I’d always pictured people who work with the dead all looking like old Dr. Frankenstein: gaunt and grisly. This guy was movie-star handsome. “Hello. I need your corner.” His voice sounded so warm it could melt an iceberg. “Would you mind stepping onto these slightly sticky sheets of paper? They will catch any particles from your shoes we might need.” He offered me his hand and helped me step over the dead guy onto large sheets he placed on the elevator floor.

I have no idea what came over me, but I heard myself say, “Thank you, kind sir,” and I curtsied. Maybe it was the dress.

Whatever it was, it must have been contagious because he bowed slightly and said, “My pleasure, lovely lady.”

“Olivia, are you okay?” Lloyd’s bushy eyebrows nearly met in the middle as he narrowed his eyes at me. His voice sliced through the air, ruining a fun moment, and I felt myself stand a little straighter. I squelched the urge to salute and swallowed a giggle.

Instead, I took a deep breath and said, “I suppose I’m a little shocked, but this night is important. I have to go. Please help me . . . it’s for Jillian.”

Lloyd walked over to an officer in regular clothes and pointed at me. They talked for awhile and she made a couple of calls. When she hung up, she walked over to me and said, “I’m detective Harper, Homicide Division. I understand you have an important event to attend tonight. I’ve talked to my boss, and Mr. Alan Lyons, who vouched for you. Both said you can leave if you allow me to inspect the bag you are carrying. I also want to meet with you tomorrow at time decided on by me. Do you agree with these stipulations?”

“Sure,” I agreed.

After she inspected my clutch and tucked a card into the pocket, the detective said, “Your driver is waiting.”

I walked toward the handsome doctor of the dead and heard him say, “The body is still in the elevator. I’d like to get it out of there so your team can look for evidence.” I noticed him look in my direction. As I turned, my dress swished just so. Funny the things that matter at a crime scene and when a handsome man might be watching.

The driver who held my door open looked familiar, but I had no idea from where. He wore reflective sunglasses that wrapped around his eyes almost to his temples.

Something about him made my nerves jangle. Just like the homeless guy did at the cemetery. I wrote it off as anxiety from looking into the eyes of a dead man.

I opened my clutch and took a moment to apply powder to my face and freshen my lipstick. The little beaded purse held those two items, along with a credit card, my key cards, and my cell phone. I looked at the card the detective had tucked inside. On the back was her cell phone number under the words, Talk to you soon. ~~~

Purchase Between the Lies: Amazon

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Thanks for stopping! Did you enjoy this latest excerpt? Leave a comment or question for Joy or myself below.

Barbara

Mystery, murder, and puppy chow!

November 10, 2015 By Barbara 2 Comments

The FALL BOOK BASH continues with author Cassidy Salem sharing an excerpt from her mystery, Think Murder. I love that title! There is no mistaking what kind of book you are getting when you read a title like that. And if you love mysteries as much as I do, you will grab this deal today. Think Murder just went on sale for .99¢! That is such a great deal you could buy one for yourself and another for a friend! Christmas is right around the corner and books are the perfect gift. Especially kindle books! You don’t even have to wrap them. 🙂

Adina Donati came to Washington D.C. to find excitement, not a dead body.
When a friend is murdered, Adina is drawn into the middle of the police investigation. Tensions rise as the suspect list expands to include Adina, her friends, and colleagues at the prestigious think tank where she works. But every cloud has a silver lining. Between the nice detective, the hot new volunteer at the dog rescue center, and the newly available preppy ex-boyfriend, Adina’s dating dry spell appears near its end. That is, if she doesn’t become the next victim.

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THINK MURDER (excerpt):

Hilary had pretty much wound down by the time we reached McSweeney’s. A popular spot among men and women in their 20s and 30s, the pub was standing room only and the scent of Guinness hung in the air. Most of the guys were scoping the scene seeking out potential hookups – but that was nothing new. Petite and pretty, with strawberry blond hair and sparkly blue eyes, Hilary was a magnet for male attention.

We made our way to the bar and each ordered a glass of white wine. I even managed to grab a small dish of chicken wings for us to share. We did our best to eat, drink, and talk, while standing, constantly jostled by the crowd. Just as one guy was on the verge of striking up a conversation with us, we snagged a small table in the back corner.

More often than not I enjoyed watching the flirtations or even flirted a bit myself, but today my attention was on our conversation. Hilary’s mood had changed since our arrival. Seated at our relatively secluded table, she fidgeted in her chair. After we had both ordered a second glass of wine, Hilary took a few rapid sips, then confided, “Something’s going on with Duncan, he’s been acting strange.” She hesitated, then stammered, “Do you think he’s cheating on me?”

So how was I supposed to answer that question? I hated to lie, still neither Duncan nor I had ever mentioned to her that we had been an item a couple years back – a brief relationship that ended when his interest lagged. To add insult to injury, he had found a replacement for me before breaking it off. Duncan is hot; he knows it and he uses it to his advantage. Faithful is not his middle name.

A bit of a coward, I replied, “I don’t know. Has his behavior changed? Any special reason you think he might be seeing someone else?”

“Just a feeling I have, like there’s something he’s not telling me. He’s been almost secretive since his last visit home.” Hilary’s eyes welled up with tears. “I think maybe I should wash my face, freshen up before we leave.”

While I waited for her to return from the restroom, I finished that second glass of wine and did my best to drive any thoughts of Duncan and his cheating past out of my mind. My favorite strategy for accomplishing that was to check out the guys standing at the bar. Most of them were in their early 20s, with the standard Washington yuppie uniform – business-like suits or at least respectable jackets and ties. The only guy that stood out was wearing a Redskins cap and no jacket. I guess he didn’t know the local dress code. No one there struck my fancy, so I didn’t have to pretend I was going to work up the courage to approach anyone.

Bored and wondering what was taking her so long, I decided to check up on Hilary. I wanted to make sure she wasn’t hiding in there, crying her eyes out. It meant we’d probably lose the table, but I was about ready to head home, and a trip to the restroom before leaving wasn’t a bad idea.

The restrooms at McSweeney’s are way in the back, down a long narrow hallway a few feet past the entrance to the kitchen. The location was a bit out of the way, but someone had the foresight to put four stalls in the women’s room. There was rarely a need to stand in line, at least not this time of day. At night, when there is live music and the place is packed, well that’s another story.

When I pushed the door open, the sink area was empty and the stall doors were all ajar. Strange. So where was Hilary? As I pondered that question, something on the floor of the last stall caught my eye. I walked over to take a closer look and saw Hilary slumped over on the floor.

“Hilary, are you OK? What’s wrong?” She didn’t answer. I moved closer, going partway into the stall. She was leaning leftward, her long hair falling into a large puddle of blood. I screamed, quite loudly to judge from the size of the crowd that came running in response. I leaned over and tried to check her right wrist for a pulse. There was none. Shaking uncontrollably, I lost my balance and landed on my butt outside the stall.

Buy Think Murder (kindle)

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Cassidy Salem has always been an avid reader. She is especially fond of mysteries (both cozy and traditional). Over the years, her favorite mystery authors have included Agatha Christie, Kathy Reichs, Mary Higgins Clark, and John Grisham. Cassidy also enjoys reading historical fiction focused on American and world history, as well as the classics.

Cassidy has never met a dog she didn’t like – a fact that influenced her decision to have the protagonist in “Think Murder” volunteer at a dog rescue center. When she’s not reading, Cassidy enjoys singing in an a cappella ensemble. Most of all, Cassidy enjoys spending time with family and friends, and travels with her husband and son whenever possible. Her travels have taken her to destinations throughout the United States and Europe.

Connect with Cassidy:

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Thanks for stopping! Have a question for Cassidy or just want to say hi? Leave a comment!

Barbara

A smart-mouthed P.I. & a by-the-book cop

November 7, 2015 By Barbara 2 Comments

The FALL BOOK BASH is still going strong! Nike Chillemi is with us today to answer a couple questions about her writing and to share an excerpt from DEADLY DESIGNS. She is definitely on my list of favorite mystery authors and her resume is pretty awesome.

Like so many writers, Nike Chillemi started writing at a very young age. She still has the Crayola, fully illustrated book she penned (colored might be more accurate) as a little girl about her then off-the-chart love of horses. Today, you might call her a crime fictionista. Her passion is crime fiction. She likes her bad guys really bad and her good guys smarter and better.

Nike is the founding board member of the Grace Awards and is its Chair, a reader’s choice awards for excellence in Christian fiction. She has been a judge in the 2011, 2012, 2013, and 2014 Carol Awards in the suspense, mystery, and romantic suspense categories; and an Inspy Awards 2010 judge in the Suspense/Thriller/Mystery category. Her four novel Sanctuary Point series, set in the mid-1940s has finaled, won an award, and garnered critical acclaim. HARMFUL INTENT released under the auspices of her own publishing company, Crime Fictionista Press, won in the Grace Awards 2014 Mystery/Thriller/Romantic Suspense/Historic Suspense category. Her new release is DEADLY DESIGNS. She has written book reviews for The Christian Pulse online magazine. She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) and John 3:16 Marketing Network.

Connect with Nike online: Author website Twitter Facebook

Give us an insight into your main character. What does he/she do that is so special?

Nike: Veronica “Ronnie” Ingels, the heroine in DEADLY DESIGNS, is a terrific gal. Nobody could want a better or more loyal friend. However, she can be trying and annoying. She’s got a lot of baggage and is socially inept. This comes from her dad having been openly and repeatedly unfaithful to her mom when Ronnie was a pre-teen. Then he divorced her mom and married his secretary. This was not only humiliating for Ronnie and her mom; it left them struggling in poverty. With great effort and determination, Ronnie was able to finish school, go to college, and make a career for herself as a private investigator. She’s got a sassy sense of humor and shoots off zingers to her friends and associates.

Do you have a special time to write? A special place to write?

Nike: I like to write in the morning, but after everyone’s gone to school or to work for the day. I’m retired so that works for me. Everything is quiet then and I can totally concentrate on writing. I find I also get a second wind in the late evening. Usually, things have calmed down by then. The dishes are done and the house has settled down. That’s also a good time to write. As far as a special place to write…I have my computer desk. We live in a two-floor, three bedroom, brick, attached-house in Brooklyn. A three bedroom in the city isn’t as large as one in the suburbs or in a rural area, and our lot is tiny. My writing space is my desk…that’s it. A lot has come out of this little writing space.

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Private investigator Veronica “Ronnie” Ingels teams up with Deputy Dawson Hughes to find a geeky radio broadcaster’s missing wife and young daughter. They fear the woman and child were taken by Islamic terrorists as revenge against the husband’s pro-Israel, conspiracy theory broadcasts.

Hughes has recently been promoted to lieutenant in the Taylor County, Texas Sheriff’s Department. He’s on leave on a special assignment with Authorized Operations (AO), a clandestine, quasi-government agency operating out of a sea-side mansion in Hither Hills, NY. The only thing is, many powerful politicians, and government big-wigs claim Authorized Operations doesn’t exist.

Ronnie is furious at both Hughes and the broadcaster for waiting thirty-six hours to start the search. She knows the longer it takes, the less chance there is of finding the child alive. The problem is, radio talk-show host Ed Harper has been hoping-against-hope that his pot-smoking, model wife is on one of her ‘esoteric experiences’ and has simply taken the child while she romps for a few days. He doesn’t want to seriously consider the other, more hazardous possibility… that his radio broadcasts have angered some very dangerous people.

DEADLY DESIGNS (excerpt)

Dunst, CT

Day One, Friday, Early Afternoon

Veronica “Ronnie” Ingels, Private Detective

What was wrong with Hughes? As a lawman, he had to have known better. He should’ve called in the local police a day and a half ago. What was he thinking? In a missing child case, time was essential, and they’d wasted a whole lot of precious hours.

I chewed off what was left of the pink polish on my thumb nail, gunned my Chevy Cruze Eco, and moved into the left lane on Interstate 95. In a time that now seemed distant, my late husband noted the car’s topaz-blue metallic finish matched my eyes. Of course, he’d been staring into another’s eyes, and I was the last to know about it.

When I resurfaced from my self-depreciating musing, New York State was behind me, and I-95 had become the Connecticut Turnpike. I hit the gas pedal again, but then changed my mind and slowed down. If I got pulled over for speeding that would waste even more time.

After another forty-five minutes, I bore down on the exit for Dunst. Following the instructions of the female voice on my GPS brought me to Main Street of this working-class village. It wasn’t exactly run-down, but could use some renewal in places. But, then, who was I to pass judgment? I lived in Brooklyn where the pigeons were as large as some single-engine planes and the subway rats even larger.

I made a turn onto Pequot Street and three houses later pulled into the driveway of a quaint, gray salt-box house, with miniscule front windows and a tiny garage. I parked behind a black Ford Explorer rental, and a tricked-out Harley Davidson motorcycle.

After grabbing my conceal-and-carry shoulder bag, I got out of the car, and clicked the key fob to lock the doors. When I’m driving long distances it’s more comfortable to have my Glock in a handbag than in a clip-on holster, sticking me in the side mile-after-mile.

I rang the bell and a geeky guy with squarish horn-rimmed glasses opened the door. Dawson Hughes stood several feet behind him.

A shadow passed over the man’s eyes and they narrowed. I couldn’t determine if it was confusion, or guilt and remorse. He took a faltering step back. “Um, come in, won’t you?”

I did, and marched directly to Hughes. “We’re thirty-six hours into a missing child case. Why haven’t the police been called?”

Hughes grimaced and held both hands up, palms out, in a stopping stance. “Whoa. Janus Agard notified the authorities over an hour ago.”

“I’m thrilled somebody finally decided to do something. Just who is Janus Agard, and what’s he got to do with the case?”

*** Purchase DEADLY DESIGNS ***

Hope you enjoyed the interview and excerpt. Please leave a comment below!

Barbara

We’ve got a mystery floater!

November 4, 2015 By Barbara 4 Comments

I’ve enjoyed all of the great excerpts so far in the Fall Book Bash. Some of these authors I’ve read before, but there are a couple I have yet to try. My personal TBR list is growing quickly. So many great books, never enough time…

Today, author Debra Purdy Kong is sharing an excerpt with us from the first book in her new Evan Dunstan Mystery series, DEAD MAN FLOATING. I love a good mystery and I have greatly enjoyed books by Debra in the past, so I can honestly say you will not be disappointed. She is a terrific mystery writer.

Author of six full-length mysteries and over fifty short stories, Debra has won numerous awards for her work. When she’s not writing, she is a substitute facilitator for the Creative Writing program with Port Moody Parks & Recreation. Debra’s a member of Crime Writers of Canada and the Burnaby Writers’ Society. More information about her books and her blog can be found at www.debrapurdykong.com

Also visit her FB Author Page https://www.facebook.com/pages/Mystery-Author-Debra-Purdy-Kong/139005706175139

Or find her on Twitter @DebraPurdyKong

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Security guard Evan Dunstan would lose too much by reporting the body in the stream, so he walked away, until someone found out. When it’s discovered that despised plumbing instructor George Krenn was murdered, Evan has a lot of explaining to do. So does his friend Sully, Krenn’s least favorite student. Evan uses his hacking skills and campus knowledge to keep them both out of jail, but the investigation forces him to question Sully’s innocence.

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DEAD MAN FLOATING (excerpt)

Security guard Evan Dunstan pedaled faster. He didn’t have to check his watch. He knew he was behind schedule thanks to Jenson Freakin’ Morlee, the world’s biggest supervisory douche bag. What in holy hell had he done to piss Jenson off this time? Or was the moron so bored that he thought it would be fun to make the bike patroller ride across Southwest Trades & Technology’s entire campus just to unlock a damn door for the janitors? The foot patrol guard in this zone could have handled the request. Judging from the radio silence, the newbie hadn’t had a busy shift.

Evan raced down the walkway next to the stream that ran along the eastern perimeter of campus. It had rained an hour ago then stopped. But the April night air still felt so damp and heavy that Evan figured the sky would crack open and dump on him any second. Thank god his shift was nearly over.

He’d almost reached the footbridge when a large dark blob in the stream caught his attention. Shit. When would people stop dumping bags of garbage in the damn water? With a new subdivision being built north of campus, a light industrial area to the west, plus six crowded dorms on the premises, the culprit could be anyone. Evan skidded to a stop and frowned. Although floodlights from the engineering building cast some light on the narrow stream, it was too dark to clearly see the bag. Wait a sec. Something was off. What was that white stuff protruding from the bag?

Propping the kickstand, Evan removed the small flashlight attached to his belt then stepped nearer the water. Oh shit! It was a hand! A freakin’ hand! And legs! He moved the flashlight up the body until he spotted the grey fringe circling a bald head that glowed like a moon. Evan shivered. Was the guy alive? He wouldn’t have to perform CPR, would he? That first-aid course last year didn’t go so well after he broke that manikin.

“Hey!” Evan called out. “Can you hear me?”

No response. Sweat broke out on Evan’s back. He glanced around for help but no one was around. Where the hell was the foot patrol guy anyway? He was supposed to help monitor water levels whenever it rained. On his knees, Evan extended his arm and touched the wrist. Oh, man. Ice cold. He lifted the man’s head out of the water and gasped at the vacant eyes. Scrapes ran across the bulbous forehead and nose. Evan yelped and recoiled, landing on his butt.

The widely despised George Krenn, head of the plumbing department, was about to give him nightmares for the rest of his life. Evan felt the dampness seep through his cargo pants, but he was too busy freaking out to care. Shit. Why hadn’t he ignored the blob and kept on riding? Oh, god. This was bad.

Evan spotted a booze bottle on the edge of the bank. Scrambling to his feet, he walked cautiously along the wet grass and then poked the bottle with his toe. Vodka. Krenn’s favourite, and it was nearly empty. So, the asshole had gotten wasted once again. Only this time he lost his balance then fell and drowned in three feet of water. Figured. Krenn was a reckless guy with a God complex.

Evan’s shift ended in less than ten minutes. If he reported this, there’d be questions, then cops, then more questions, and report writing. He hated writing reports. Worse, he’d miss his only chance to hook up with Cecelia, the hottest woman he’d ever met in his life. All because of a nasty dip-shit who’d tried to get him fired two weeks ago?

“Oh, hell no.”

Evan struggled to his feet and scanned the area again. Still no one in sight. No surprise, he supposed. Evening classes ended over an hour ago and there were only two cars in the parking lot next to engineering. Obviously, no one was in the sports field on the other side of the stream. Maybe the emptiness was a good thing. Even if the newbie found Krenn, Jenson would make the whole team stick around to account for every second of their whereabouts.

“Alpha One to Alpha Two.”

Speaking of that ass-wipe…Jenson hadn’t seen something, had he? Oh, no. What about the cameras? Camera twenty-one kept tabs on the east entrance to engineering and twenty-two monitored the parking lot. But both could be panned to cover the field and portions of the stream. Evan wiped his hands on his pants then pressed the button on his shoulder mic.

“Go ahead,” he replied as calmly as he could.

“Have you locked up engineering yet?”

“En route.”

“Change of plans. Head to admin. CFO needs help with the alarm code again. Alpha Three will take care of engineering.”

“Ten-four.”

Grateful to get away from this horror show, Evan pedaled as fast as his rubbery legs would allow.

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After that excerpt you probably want to download the rest of the story and keep reading, right? I know I do. Click on the links below:

Amazon.com

Smashwords

Kobo

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Have a question or comment for Debra or myself? Please do so. We love to hear from readers!

Barbara

Autumn, Authors, & Awesome Reads!

October 21, 2015 By Barbara 2 Comments

FALL BOOK BASH!!! For the next two months I have a selection of author friends who will be sharing excerpts from their books with us. Christmas is looming closer and closer and now is a great time to discover new authors and books to add to your “To Be Read” list during the holidays or great gift ideas for family and friends. So, get ready for some fun!

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Felicia N. Mires is with us today, sharing her romantic murder mystery, UNSEEN. Felicia has over twenty published books in the Christian fiction market. She writes romance, mystery, and even has a Mossad spy series that looks really good:) Read the free excerpt and then check out her other books by clicking the links below.

Detective Caleb Forest has just been assigned his first case as lead detective in a murder. He’s also been assigned to teach the ropes of detecting to a romance novelist, Miss Destiny Knox. This tag-along comes with a zany giggle and stilettos that would put a hooker to shame. She’s much too attractive to wander the confines of a police station, inhabited as it is by men with less than stellar appetites. How does Caleb solve a murder when he spends more time explaining his delectable sidekick than he does detecting?

UNSEEN (excerpt):

I know where you are. I bet you thought I forgot about you and what you did to me. You’ll be sorry. It’s only a matter of time. I’m coming for you all. Watch your back. Of course, it won’t do any good. I was always smarter than you. This is really going to be fun.

Caleb Forest swallowed hard and bit back a sharp retort. No, he did not want a tagalong while he investigated a murder. No, he did not want some dorky author writing down everything he said about police procedure. And no, he especially didn’t want some female, some yakkety-yak riding in his car. Was he going to tell his captain that? No. He kept his expression blank as the captain talked on.

“Ya got that, Forest? Me and the little lady’s grandpa go way back. Don’tcha let nothin’ happen to her.”

Caleb nodded. “Yes, sir. You can count on me. How long do you think the uh…little lady will want to accompany me…an hour…two?”

“Don’t be a smart mouth. Her name’s Destiny Knox, and she’ll be riding with you ’til ya solve the new murder.”

“Cap’n, please. I just got that case…what? Two hours ago? It could be weeks…even months before we make an arrest!”

“Whithersoever, Forest, whithersoever.” Captain Jonas smiled without mirth and leaned his chair back so far Caleb thought he might flip it. “Now get outta here. The coroner’s waitin’ for you ta take a gander at that stiff so he can bag it. And Forest…Destiny’s sitting in the corridor. Ferry her along with you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Caleb turned and quietly closed the door behind him. What had he done to deserve this? On Homicide for just over a month, and he was sure to knock heads with the Captain. And, for what? Some old bag with a macabre desire to see a murder scene.

His feet dragged across the fading linoleum as he approached the chairs lining the wall of the precinct. Three women waited, along with two disreputable-looking young men with more tats showing than skin. Of the three females, Caleb discounted the youngest. Though her luxurious brown hair might have been attractive if not teased and streaked with pink glitter, the tight black mini and stilettos bespoke a career in prostitution. She completely ignored him as she filed her long nails. Was she really so jaded at her age? Thank God, he didn’t work Vice.

Caleb tamped remorse and shifted to the other women. Which of the two would hound his heels over the coming days?

“Detective Forest?” The prostitute vaulted out of her chair and held out a hand. “Destiny Knox. I’m so pleased to meet you.”

Caleb’s mouth opened and closed several times before words issued forth. “Uh, yes. Detective Caleb Forest.” He continued to stare, taking in her clear green eyes, heavily painted lids, and her unblemished skin.

She pumped his hand as she chattered on. “I can’t thank you enough for allowing me to ride along on your rounds. The desk sergeant said you just got a new murder. How thrilling! Let me get my notebook. I don’t want to overlook one detail.”

She abruptly twisted away and sashayed back to retrieve a notebook and jacket off the chair she’d vacated. How in the world did she walk in heels that high? She had lovely legs and a very nicely rounded…

Caleb closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and raised his gaze to the teased mass of curls on her head. This was going to be a greater trial that he’d thought. He held out a hand and pointed at the side door. “Over here, Miss Knox.”

The portly desk sergeant smirked as Caleb walked past. He ignored the affront. He’d be doing that a lot if this case dragged, particularly if Miss Knox’ choice of attire remained so visually stimulating. Their elbows bumped, and he looked down then just as quickly glanced away. It wasn’t that her clothes revealed anything. The dress wasn’t particularly low-cut. Miss Knox just happened to be well-endowed, extremely well-endowed. Caleb thought of a few choice words he’d like to say to his new captain. Words he’d never utter.

“…so I thought a first-hand view would give me a better chance of writing something believable.” Bright, trusting eyes gazed up at him.

Caleb pasted on a polite smile and reached for the door handle of his dark blue sedan. He had no clue what Miss Knox had just communicated. If he didn’t want the captain to have a few choice words for him, he’d better start listening.

“Oh, thank you, Detective, but you don’t have to open the door for me. I know you’ve much more important things to worry about.”

Seriously? “Please get in the car, Miss Knox, or I won’t be able to see to those important things.”

She giggled like a schoolgirl and climbed in. “Of course.”

Caleb walked around the back of the car. Thus far, he didn’t see how Destiny Knox had the brains to write a believable mystery. Maybe she was penning a true crime novel. Either way, he didn’t particularly care. He slid into his seat and started the engine, already focused on what he’d find at the scene. A young woman, dead.

Miss Knox pulled on her seatbelt then twisted to face him. “So, Detective. You have a plain car.”

“It’s got all the bells and whistles if I need them. Let me know if you get cold, I’ll turn on the heat.”

“I’m fine. I like that gun in your shoulder strap. Can I hold it?”

“No.”

“Can I see it?”

“No.” From the dancing humor of her eyes, she was laughing at him. He really didn’t want to indulge her.

“Ok. How long have you worked homicide?”

“About a month.”

“Ahh, a newbie. You know much?”

“More than you, apparently.”

Miss Knox giggled again and pulled out her notebook. “Touché. What did you do before?”

“Before I became a cop or before I made detective?”

“You did something else before you became a cop?”

“Nope.”

“Ok…let’s go with what you did before you became a detective.”

“Beat cop…downtown.”

“I guess you’ve seen your share of gang war, drugs, and hookers.”

He grinned over at her. “Yeah. You look just like one. Was that your intent?”

“I didn’t want to stand out at a crime scene.”

“Didn’t want to stand…Where did you think we were going? A brothel?”

“Sorry. Guess I didn’t think that through.”

“We’re visiting a residential area…the victim’s home, and you look like…” He glanced at her bowed head and relented. “Tomorrow, please wear something with a little less…color.”

Her head jerked up. “But this is black.”

With one look, he quailed whatever else she’d been about to say. She nodded. “Yes, sir. Something with less…color. Jeans and a t-shirt?”

“Fine.”

She turned away from him to gaze out the window. She seemed a small, forlorn figure compared to the bubbly young woman who’d gotten into his car. Already her exotic perfume had filled the air. Eventually, he’d have to open a window. When another five minutes passed in utter silence, he sighed. “Ask your questions.”

She fastened on him, eyes hopeful again, then clicked her pen. “What is the system for investigating a murder?”

“System? That’s a misnomer if ever I heard one. There’s no system in place, and we have more than 3,000 jurisdictions in our country.”

“Sheesh! Three thousand? If everybody does it differently, how do criminals ever get caught?”

“There are basic protocols and procedures, but it will make more sense once you see it in action. Essentially, when we get there, the scene will be locked down. No one goes in or out without going on the list and no one touches anything until the entire area is photographed. That should already be in progress.” He slowed as he approached a long line of parked vehicles with flashing lights. “And here we are.” He glanced at her one last time. “Try to stay…Just write your questions and ask me later…please.”

“Yes, Detective.”

Caleb rolled down his window and a rush of cool, fresh air wafted in the car. He flashed his badge at the uniformed officer blocking their advance. “Detective Forest.”

The unie nodded and pointed. “They’re waiting for you, Detective.”

Caleb parked the car and turned to Miss Knox. “Put this on and don’t take it off.”

She reached for the lanyard he held out, slid it over her head, then lifted the plastic I.D. to study it. “Visitor. Trent City Police Department.”

With a nod, Caleb grabbed his voice recorder and camera then climbed out, not waiting to see if Miss Knox followed. When he reached the yellow taped-off line, he held up his badge again. “Detective Caleb Forest and Destiny Knox. Miss Knox, please show your driver’s license to the officer.”

The young man copied their information and allowed them to pass. Caleb clipped his badge at his waist and lifted the yellow tape for Miss Knox. Briefly, he studied the faces in the crowd, the usual nosy old lady, an elderly couple, some housewives…just who you’d expect to see home at ten in the morning. Any one of whom could be a suspect or a curious onlooker. He snapped pictures of each. From the corner of his eye, he noted Miss Knox open her mouth, but she raised her notebook instead and wrote something. He hid a smile.

Zack Pemberly strode toward him and gestured at Miss Knox, his blond brows raised in question. Caleb rolled his eyes. He was never going to live this down.

~~~

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Barbara

A Sweet Deal for Halloween!

October 26, 2013 By Barbara Leave a Comment

Entangled is the 1st novel in my Fredrickson Winery series. To help you get caught up on the happenings in Napa, you can pick it up for only 99¢ for the next few days. Get your copy now and fall in love with Billie, Handel and the whole gang at Fredrickson’s!

ENTANGLED

A Minneapolis attorney inherits a small California winery, reawakening memories that have lain dormant for twenty years. Secrets lie buried beneath Fredrickson Winery’s innocent facade and Billie intends to get to the root. But disturbing the past lays bare the skeletons of others, including her mother’s. Can she live with the consequences of full disclosure or will she run home where everyone is Minnesota nice?

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