Today I am happy to be sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for the new standalone murder mystery ROUGH COUNTRY by T.J. Brearton on this Damppebbles Blog Tour.
Below you will find a book blurb, my book review, an about the author section and the author’s social media links. Enjoy!
***
Book Blurb
A young girl murdered. A town with a dark secret.
A young girl, Kasey, is murdered in the woods of northern New York, a strange symbol carved into her stomach.
Investigator Reed Raleigh, Major Crimes, is tasked with finding the killer.
Reed has his own troubles. He’s in therapy, divorced, estranged from his son. But he desperately needs to solve this case – his own stepdaughter vanished when she was a teenager and Reed knows all about the agony of having no closure. No way is he letting Kasey’s mother go through that.
But as Reed begins to dig, the case grows ever more complex. Why is Kasey’s boyfriend acting so strangely? And why is her mother lying to the police?
As evidence of Kasey’s bizarre secret life starts to emerge, Reed realises this case isn’t just about a dead girl. There’s something much bigger at play in this small rural town, a decades old secret that needs to be protected. At any cost.
ROUGH COUNTRY by T.J. Brearton is a murder mystery set in the rural hills of upstate New York. I read and enjoy the Shannon Ames Thriller series by this author, so I was looking forward to reading this new standalone book and I was not disappointed.
A young girl, Kasey Stevens is found murdered partially lying on a trail in the woods of upstate New York. She has been strangled and a symbol has been sliced with precision on her abdomen.
Reed Raleigh is an investigator on the Major Crimes Unit of the New York State Police and receives the early morning call to be the lead on the murder. Reed is razor focused on this case as his superior keeps close tabs on him and his state of mind because Reed is still trying to deal with the fact that he had no closure on the disappearance of his own step-daughter.
Initially, Reed and his fellow investigators are lead to believe it is a case of a distraught ex-boyfriend, but as the case continues Reed finds a tangled web of lies and relationships among many of the small towns’ inhabitants in the region.
Reed discovers there have been other missing and dead girls over the past years. There is something even bigger going on and it is a secret that many are willing to keep at any cost.
I was really caught up in this intricately plotted and paced mystery. Reed is an intriguing protagonist who is dealing with his own demons, but he is cognizant of his problems and the fact his superior is keeping tabs on his mental health as he works this case. Through everything though, Reed is determined to get to the truth and on top of every inconsistency in the case. All the secondary characters, good and bad, were fully fleshed and added to the realism of the story. The threads came together in the end for an interesting and satisfying conclusion.
I recommend this new standalone mystery by this author for an entertaining and satisfying read.
***
About the Author
T.J. Brearton’s books have reached half a million readers around the world and have topped the Amazon charts in the US, UK, Canada, and Australia. A graduate of the New York Film Academy in Manhattan, Brearton first worked in film before focusing on novels. His books are visually descriptive with sharp dialog and underdog heroes. When not writing, Brearton does whatever his wife and three children tell him to do. They live happily in the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York. Yes, there are bears in the Adirondacks. But it’s really quite beautiful when you’re not running for your life.
T.J. is the author of Into Darkness, Road to Mercy and other crime thrillers. ROUGH COUNTRY will be his third novel published with Inkubator Books.
Today is my turn on the Damppebbles Blog Tour to share my Feature Post and Book Review for THE PHOENIX PROJECT (DI Jack MacIntosh Book #1) by Michelle Kidd. This is an exciting thriller/international crime/mystery mash-up that is the first book in a new series by a new to me author.
Below you will find a book blurb, my book review, an about the author section and the author’s social media links. Enjoy!
***
Book Blurb
How long can the past remain buried?
A simple message in a local newspaper. A set of highly sensitive documents left in the back of a London black cab. Both events collide to cause Isabel Faraday’s life to be turned upside down. Growing up believing her parents died in a car crash when she was five, Isabel learns the shocking truth; a truth that places her own life in danger by simply being a Faraday. Detective Inspector Jack MacIntosh of the Metropolitan Police races against time to save her, and at the same time unravels long forgotten secrets involving MI5, MI6, the KGB and NASA. Secrets that have lain dormant for twenty years. Secrets worth killing for. With kidnap, murder and suicides stretching across four continents, just what is the Phoenix Project?
The Phoenix Project is the first Detective Inspector Jack MacIntosh novel.
THE PHOENIX PROJECT (DI Jack MacIntosh Book #1) by Michelle Kidd is an exciting thriller/international crime/mystery mash-up that is the first book in a new series by a new to me author.
Isabel Faraday is about to go from a simple shop assistant to becoming the center of an international plot which has her on the run for her life.
Long kept secrets that have lain dormant for twenty years are on the verge of being exposed, but there is a contingent that will do anything and kill anyone to prevent that from happening. Everyone is involved, MI5, MI6, the FBI, NASA and the KGB and with Isabel’s life on the line, Detective Inspector Jack MacIntosh of the Metropolitan Police races against time to save Isabel and unravel the secrets of the Phoenix Project and a secret organization protecting it called PRISM.
What is the Phoenix Project?
This book is a little confusing at first, not just trying to understand why Isabel is in danger, but also because there are so many characters from many different agencies. Once you get everything sorted out, each turn of the page increases the pace of the plot. The thrills, twists and turns, murders and intrigue take off and continues to crescendo towards a very satisfying conclusion. I was especially intrigued with Jack and I believe he is a great protagonist to follow into future books.
I am looking forward to following DI Jack MacIntosh and author Michelle Kidd in the future.
***
About the Author
Michelle Kidd is a self-published author known for the Detective Inspector Jack MacIntosh series of novels.
Michelle qualified as a lawyer in the early 1990s and spent the best part of ten years practising civil and criminal litigation.
But the dream to write books was never far from her mind and in 2008 she began writing the manuscript that would become the first DI Jack MacIntosh novel – The Phoenix Project. The book took eighteen months to write, but spent the next eight years gathering dust underneath the bed.
In 2018 Michelle self-published The Phoenix Project and had not looked back since. There are currently three DI Jack MacIntosh novels, with a fourth in progress.
Michelle works full time for the NHS and lives in Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk. She enjoys reading, wine and cats – not necessarily in that order J
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review on the blog tour for this new dark and gritty British police procedural mystery HOW THE WIRED WEEP by Ian Patrick.
Below you will find a book blurb, my book review, an about the author section and the author’s social media links. Enjoy!
***
Book Blurb
The Wire crosses the pond.
Ed is a detective who handles informants. He recruits Ben, a young man, who is treading a dangerous path into the criminal underworld.
Ben’s unsure of where his loyalties lie. They have to find a way to work together despite their differences.
Both men are drawn into the world of Troy, a ruthless and brutal leader of an Organised Criminal Network.
Ben is torn between two worlds as he tries to walk the impossible line between criminality and helping Ed combat crime.
He lives in fear of discovery.
When your life is thrown upside down who do you turn to in order to survive?
Set against the backdrop of the 2012 Olympic Games, How the Wired Weep is a fast paced urban thriller where time is against both men as they attempt to serve their own agendas.
HOW THE WIRED WEEP by Ian Patrick is a new standalone dark and gritty British police procedural mystery. It takes the reader into a mystery in the world of covert police operations and how they handle the safety and anonymity of their criminal informants.
DS Ed Hunter and his teammates handle police informants out of the Metropolitan Police headquarters. Ed loves his work, but it is a tricky business. The informants are criminals and Ed does have rules and laws to work by and must also let the informants know that they cannot break them either. One of Ed’s informants, Ben is being released from prison and Ed is eager to get him back out on the streets.
Ben, a young gang member and his family have a history of being on the wrong side of the law. He likes the easy money from being an informant, but Ed is afraid Ben will end up back in prison for not being able to follow his rules. Ed needs him though to get information from the inside on a new violent gang leader.
Ben becomes more frustrated, greedy and angry at being used. Ed sees Ben spiraling out of control as he returns to the streets. Will Ed be able to continue to get Ben to walk the line and see beyond the easiest and quickest means to an end?
This story pulls you in to the two main characters lives and makes you feel everything they do. Mr. Patrick’s writing invests you in the outcome for both as the story is told in chapters related by each character. This book depicts the dark, dirty despair of the urban criminal landscape, but also has moments of friendship and humor. This is an intense, realistic and powerful read.
I highly recommend this book as a crime read that is very different from the norm.
***
About the Author
Ian spent twenty-seven years in the Metropolitan police the majority as a Detective Sergeant within the Specialist Operations Command. He specialised in Child Protection and was part of a Major Investigation Team that targeted abusers and investigated the murder of children.
His last seven years were spent in the Covert Policing Command where he managed a specialist covert unit dedicated to the detection and disruption of organised criminal networks across London and the UK.
Rubicon, Stoned Love, and Fools Gold are published by Fahrenheit Press.
How the Wired Weep is a standalone novel.
Rubicon is in development with the BBC for a six part TV series.
He’s appeared at Bloody Scotland in 2018 as a spotlight author on the opening night with Val McDermid and Denise Mina.
Ian’s undertaken a mentorship with Write4Film Scotland and is developing a script for a short film. He’s also an ambassador for Muscular Dystrophy Scotland. He lives in Scotland where he divides his time between family, writing, reading and photography.
You can follow Ian on his website https://www.ianpatrick.co.uk where you can subscribe to his newsletter and get updates on blogs, events and books.
DEAD COLD by Jane Heafield is a new British police procedural mystery/thriller by a new debut author from Bloodhound Books. This begins as a whodunnit of a double murder that turns into an investigation of three murders separated by several decades. I am hoping this becomes a series featuring the two primary detectives in this book.
DI Lucy Miller loves nothing more than a high-profile case with a lot of publicity. She is the first to arrive at a bloody double murder scene which was called in by an anonymous caller. She digs in and starts looking for clues, but her superior is involved in a car crash on route to the scene and the case is turned over to another murder squad. She keeps investigating even when she is warned off the case.
DCI Liam Bennet is now in charge of the Pond Street murder investigation. A series of missed clues leads to wrong conclusions regarding the dead couple, but Bennet is determined to correct the mistake and solve the murders even as Lucy Miller continues to insert herself into his case. Both detectives are pulled into the mystery of the dead couple which leads to two other cold cases with similar injuries to the corpses and they decide to work together.
As Lucy and Bennet get closer to the truth, Lucy comes closer to losing the job she loves above all else. Will the resolution prove her right and save her job as well as Bennet’s life?
This is one of the most intricately plotted police procedural/mystery thriller I have read in quite some time. Ms. Heafield has managed to intertwine the plots of a current double murder and two cold case murders that flowed seamlessly with red herrings, twists and revelations. I found that I could not stop turning the pages.
Lucy is a strong female protagonist who at first rubbed me the wrong way and I was not sure if that would affect my enjoyment of the mystery, but as she begins to interact with Bennet and you get more of her backstory, you understand why she acts the way she does. I feel Bennet is the perfect foil to Lucy and they balance each other well. Both have been hurt in the past and I am hoping that this will become a series with the two of them working together again. Their relationship is tricky though because I want them together, but that is the perception that caused Lucy’s problems in the past. I will be interested to see how Ms. Heafield handles both of them in the future.
I highly recommend this new British police procedural/mystery thriller!
***
Author Bio
Jane was born and raised in South Yorkshire, where she works as a scientist in a busy hospital. When not using a microscope or a TV remote, she likes to write. Plotting for her novels is done with a voice recorder while strolling around English Heritage sites. She loves all things crime and cannot sleep without an audiobook blaring. Her partner cannot sleep because of this.
Today is my turn on the Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour for this well written and paced, atmospheric small town Sheriff/police procedural mystery. I am excited to be sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for Elena Taylor’s debut ALL WE BURIED: A Sheriff Bet Rivers Mystery (A Sheriff Bet Rivers Mystery Book #1).
Below you will find a book synopsis, my book review, an excerpt from the book, the author’s bio and social media links and a Rafflecopter giveaway. Enjoy!
***
Synopsis
For fans of Julia Keller and Sheena Kamal, All We Buried disturbs the long-sleeping secrets of a small Washington State mountain town.
Interim sheriff Elizabeth “Bet” Rivers has always had one repeat nightmare: a shadowy figure throwing a suspicious object into her hometown lake in Collier, Washington. For the longest time, she chalked it up to an overactive imagination as a kid. Then the report arrives. In the woods of the Cascade mountain range, right in her jurisdiction, a body floats to the surface of Lake Collier. When the body is extricated and revealed, no one can identify Jane Doe. But someone must know the woman, so why aren’t they coming forward?
Bet has been sitting as the interim sheriff of this tiny town in the ill-fitting shoes of her late father and predecessor. With the nightmare on her heels, Bet decided to build a life for herself in Los Angeles, but now it’s time to confront the tragic history of Collier. The more she learns, the more Bet realizes she doesn’t know the townspeople of Collier as well as she thought, and nothing can prepare her for what she is about to discover.
Genre: Mystery Published by: Crooked Lane Publication Date: April 7, 2020 Number of Pages: 304 ISBN: 1643852914 (ISBN13: 9781643852911) Series: Sheriff Bet Rivers #1 Purchase Links:Amazon | Barnes & Noble | IndieBound | Goodreads
***
My Book Review
RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars
ALL WE BURIED: A Sheriff Bet Rivers Mystery (A Sheriff Bet Rivers Mystery Book #1) by Elena Taylor is a well written and paced, atmospheric small town Sheriff/police procedural mystery debut.
Elizabeth “Bet” Rivers has returned home to Collier from L.A. to her small hometown in the mountains of Washington state to follow in her father’s footsteps as Sheriff. Currently the interim Sheriff, she is not certain she wants to stay even as she runs for election against her father’s deputy.
A Washington State professor is studying the dead glacial lake by the abandoned coal mine outside of Collier when he discovers a canvas wrapped body floating in the lake. Bet has never handled a murder investigation, but she is determined to solve this one to prove her worth to the people of her town and herself. This murder is eerily reminiscent of a terrifying dream Bet has had for nearly nineteen years. Was it a dream or a memory she would rather forget?
As Bet digs deeper into the disturbing history around her hometown, two hometown sons have returned at the same time the body turns up. The more Bet digs, the more she learns that she does not know the town people of Collier as well as she believed and she may be the next victim of the dead lake and the ghosts of the old mine.
This is a wonderful mystery read that kept me guessing and turning the pages. I would never have expected a debut to be able to pull me in to not only the mystery and characters, but also the landscape and ecology of the small Cascade mountain town and lake. Bet is a wonderful new lead character that I am looking forward to following into the future. She is realistic and relatable as are the secondary characters. The mysteries from the past and the present are intertwined and paced perfectly in my opinion.
I highly recommend this debut and first in a series mystery!
***
Excerpt
ONE
Sheriff Bet Rivers leaned back in her chair and gazed out the office window at the shifting light on Lake Collier. Bright sunlight cast up sparkling diamonds as a late-summer breeze chopped the surface—turquoise-blue and silver. The fragment of a song from her childhood teased her mind—silver, blue, and gold. She hummed the tune under her breath.
Red and yellow leaves turned the maple trees in the park across the street into Jackson Pollock paintings. Hard to believe Labor Day weekend ended tonight. Somehow summer had slipped by and fall had snuck up on her as she tended to her new position.
If she had still been in Los Angeles, she’d have been a detective by now. Instead, she was back in her tiny hometown with a job her father had tricked her into taking.
“I need you to cover for me while I get chemo,” he said. “It’s just for a few months. I’m going to be fine.”
With the detective exam available only once every two years, it meant putting her career on hold. But her father had never asked her for anything; how could she say no?
He never said he would die, turning her “interim sheriff” position into something more permanent.
Her father always knew what cards to play. Competition. Family. Responsibility. Loyalty. Collier. A perfect straight. He’d used them all this time, as if he’d known it would be his last hand. No easy way to extricate herself now, short of gnawing off her own foot.
The sound of instruments tuning up pulled her attention to a trio set up at a bench outside the market across the street. The raised sidewalk and false front of the old building made the perfect backdrop for their performance. Collier relied on tourism for much of its income, and the local musicians encouraged visitors to stay longer and spend more.
A beat of silence followed by a quick intake of breath, the unspoken communication of musicians well attuned to one another, and the trio launched into song.
Church of a different sort. Bet could hear her father’s words. I don’t know if there’s a God, Bet, but I do believe in bluegrass.
The music produced a soundtrack to her grief. The banjo player favored the fingerpicking style of the great Earl Scruggs. Loss etched in the sound of three-part harmony, Earle Rivers’s death still a wound that wouldn’t close.
She recognized the fiddle player. She’d babysat him years ago. It made her feel old. Not yet thirty, she wasn’t, but as the last generation of Lake Collier Riverses, the weight of history fell heavy on her shoulders. In a line of sheriffs stretching back to the town’s founding, she was the bitter end.
Looking down at her desk, Bet eyed the new fly she’d tied. The small, barbless hook would work well for the catch-and-release fishing she did, and the bright yellow and green feathers pleased her. The only thing she’d missed while living in California. Surf fishing wasn’t the same.
I should name it in your memory, Dad. The Earle fly. Her grandfather had named him after Scruggs, but her grandmother added the e because she liked how it looked.
Bet imagined her father’s critical response to her work, the size of the hook too dainty for his memorial.
Bet “spoke” with her father more now, four months after his death, than she’d ever done when he lived. Another burden she carried. The conversations they’d never had. Things she should have asked but didn’t.
She took a deep breath of the dry, pine scent that drifted in through the open windows, filling the room with a heady summer perfume. She should get up and walk around, let the community see she was on the job, but her body felt leaden. And it wasn’t like anyone would notice. She could vanish for hours and it wouldn’t matter to Collier; no one required her attention. Not like they had depended on her father. His death still hung over town like a malaise, her presence an insufficient cure no matter what Earle might have believed when he called her home.
Before her father’s illness, she’d had a plan. First the police academy, then patrol officer, proving she could make it in Los Angeles as a cop. She’d envisioned at least twenty years in LA, moving up the ranks—something with Chief in the title— returning home with a long, impressive career before stepping into Earle’s shoes.
Too late, she’d realized he wouldn’t get better. He’d brought her home for good.
Stretching her arms above her head, she walked her fingers up the wall behind her, tapping to the beat of the music. Anything to shake off the drowsiness brought on by the hot, quiet day and long nights of uneasy sleep.
The coffee stand beckoned from across the street, but the sound of the front door opening and the low, throaty voice of the department’s secretary, Alma, stopped her from voyaging out. A two-pack-a-day smoker for almost forty years, Alma sounded a lot like Lauren Bacall after a night of heavy drinking. She’d given up smoking more than twenty years ago, but even now, as she edged into her seventies, Alma’s voice clung to the roughness like a dying man to a life preserver. Bet hoped the visitor only wanted information about the community and Alma could answer.
No such luck. The efficient clop of Alma’s square-heeled shoes clumped down the scarred floors of the hallway, a counterpoint to another set of feet. Bet brought her hands down off the wall and automatically tucked a wayward curl of her auburn hair back up under her hat before Alma arrived, poking her birdlike head around the wooden frame of the door. Gray hair teased tall, as if that would give her five-foot frame a couple extra inches.
“Bet?” Alma always said her name as though it might not be Bet Rivers sitting behind the enormous sheriff’s desk. Bet assumed Alma wished to find Earle Rivers there. She wondered how long that would last. If Bet threw the upcoming election and fled back to Southern California, leaving her deputy to pick up the reins, maybe everyone would be better off, no matter what her father wanted.
“Yes, Alma?” “I think you’d better listen to what this young man has to say.” The “young man” in question could be anywhere under the age of sixty in Alma’s book, and as he stood out of sight down the hallway, Bet had little to go on.
“Okay,” Bet said.
“I think it’s important.” Alma waited for Bet to show appropriate attention. “Okay.”
“Seems he found a dead body floating in the lake.”
***
CREDIT MARK PERLSTEIN
Author Bio
Elena Taylor lives on the banks of the middle fork of the Snoqualmie River in a town made famous by Twin Peaks. When she’s not writing or working one-on-one with writers as a developmental editor, she can be found hanging out with her husband, dog, and two cats. Her favorite place to be (besides home) is the stables down the road, with her two horses Radar and Jasper.
Today I am sharing on the Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour. My Feature Post and Book Review is for DERAILED (PI Kelly Pruett Book #1) by Mary Keliikoa.
Below you will find a book synopsis, my book review, an excerpt from the book, the author’s bio and social media links and a Rafflecopter giveaway. Enjoy!
***
Book Synopsis
A dying wish. A secret world.
Can this grieving investigator stay on the right track?
PI Kelly Pruett is determined to make it on her own. And juggling clients at her late father’s detective agency, a controlling ex, and caring for a deaf daughter was never going to be easy. She takes it as a good sign when a letter left by her dad ties into an unsolved case of a young woman struck by a train.
Hunting down the one person who can prove the mysterious death was not just a drunken accident, Kelly discovers this witness is in no condition to talk. And the closer she gets to the truth the longer her list of sleazy suspects with murderous motives grows. Each clue exposes another layer of the victim’s steamy double life.
Can Kelly pinpoint the murderer, or is she on the fast track to disaster?
Genre: Mystery Published by: Camel Press Publication Date: May 12th 2020 Number of Pages: 232 ISBN: 1603817069 (ISBN13: 9781603817066) Series: PI Kelly Pruett #1 Purchase Links:Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Bookshop | Goodreads
***
My Book Review
RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars
DERAILED (P.I. Kelly Pruett Book #1) by Mary Keliikoa is the start of a new female P.I. series by a debut author. This is an intriguing mystery full of characters with secrets and plot twists which take you as well as this inexperienced P.I. down many paths before ultimately discovering the truth.
P.I. Kelly Pruett is trying to make it on her own after her divorce and the death of her father who left her his detective agency. Kelly has always been fascinated with her father’s P.I. work, but has yet to work a major investigation. Kelly is trying to move forward after the death of her father, support herself and her deaf daughter and deal with an ex and mother-in-law who are still much too involved in her life.
A client shows up looking for Kelly’s father, but retains Kelly to investigate the supposed drunken accidental death of her daughter. This is Kelly’s chance to prove to everyone she is capable of taking over her father’s firm. As Kelly investigates the life of the dead woman, nothing is as it first seemed. She had a secret life and the murder of her main suspect leads her further into a web of sleazy characters that all have their own secrets.
Kelly is learning as she goes. She is finding she has more suspects than she anticipated and their many secrets lead to a motive that the killer does not want revealed and is willing to kill again to protect.
This is a cozy P.I. mystery that is intricately plotted with deceitful characters and red herrings that kept me turning the pages as I follow this new P.I. Kelly’s personal life felt realistic and pulled me in with her determination to make her dream work, protect her relationship with her child and hopefully more of her budding relationship with the handsome police officer. I am impressed with this mystery by this debut author and I hope she will continue with many more books in this series.
I recommend this first book in this cozy P.I. mystery series.
***
Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
Portland, Oregon has as many parts as the human anatomy. Like the body, some are more attractive than others. My father’s P.I. business that I’d inherited was in what many considered the armpit, the northeast, where pickpockets and drug dealers dotted the narrow streets and spray paint tags of bubble-lettered gang signatures striped the concrete. In other words, home. I’m Kelly Pruett and I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.
I’d just finished invoicing a client for a skip trace and flicked off the light in the front office my dad and I used to share when a series of taps came from the locked front door. It was three o’clock on a gloomy Friday afternoon. A panhandler looking for a handout or a bathroom was my best guess. Sitting at the desk, I couldn’t tell.
Floyd, my basset hound and the only real man in my life, lifted his droopy eyes to meet mine before flopping his head back down on his bed. No help there.
Another rap, louder this time.
Someone wanted my attention. I retrieved the canister of pepper spray from my purse and opened the door to a woman, her umbrella sheltering her from the late October drizzle. Her angle made it hard to see her face, only the soft curls in her hair and the briefcase hanging from her hand. I slipped the pepper spray into the pocket of my Nike warmup jacket.
“Is Roger Pruett in?” she asked, water droplets splatting the ground.
She hadn’t heard the news and I hadn’t brought myself to update R&K Investigation’s website. I swallowed the lump before it could form and clutch my throat. “No, sorry,” I said. “My dad died earlier this year. I’m his daughter, Kelly.”
“I’m so sorry.” She peered from under the umbrella, her expression pinched. She searched my face for a different answer.
I’d give anything to have one. “What do you need?”
“To hire a P.I. to investigate my daughter’s death. Can you help me?” Her voice cracked.
My stomach fluttered. Process serving, court document searches, and the occasional tedious stakeout had made up the bulk of my fifteen hundred hours of P.I. experience requirement. Not that I wasn’t capable of more. Dad had enjoyed handling cases himself with the plan to train me later. In the year since his death, no one had come knocking, and going through the motions of what I knew how to do well had been hard enough. Now this lady was here for my father’s help. I couldn’t turn her away. I raked my fingers through the top of my shoulder length hair and opened the door. “Come in.”
“Bless you.” She slid her umbrella closed and brushed past me.
After securing the lock, I led her through the small reception area and into my office. A bathroom and another office that substituted for a storage closet were down the long hallway heading to the rear exit. Floyd decided to take interest and lumbered over. With his butt in the air, he stretched at her feet before nearly snuffling my soon-to-be client’s shoe up his nose. She nodded at him before vicious Floyd found his way back to his corner, tail swaying behind him. Guess he approved.
The woman looked in her mid-sixties. She had coiffed hair the color of burnt almonds, high cheekbones, and a prominent nose. She reminded me of my middle school librarian who could get you to shut up with one glance. “Would you like coffee, Ms…?”
“No thank you. It’s Hanson.” She settled in the red vinyl chair across from my dad’s beaten and scarred desk. “Georgette Hanson.”
My skin tingled when she said her name.
“My condolences on your father,” she said.
“Thank you.” Her words were simple, and expected, but her eyes held pain. Having lost her daughter, she clearly could relate.
“How did it happen?” she asked.
I swallowed again. With as many people as I’d had to tell, it should be getting easier. It wasn’t. “Stroke. Were you a former client of my father’s?”
She waved her hand. “Something like that.” She lifted the briefcase to her lap and popped the latch. Her eyes softened. “He was a fine man. You look just like him.”
My confident, broad-shouldered, Welshman father had been quite fit and handsome in his youth. Most of my adult life he’d carried an extra fifty pounds, but that never undermined his strong chin, wise blue eyes, and thick chestnut hair. I’d been blessed with my Dad’s eyes and hair and had my mom’s round chin. But since I’d ballooned a couple of sizes while pregnant with Mitz, I knew which version she thought I resembled. “What were you hoping he could do for you with regards to your daughter?”
“Find out why she’s dead.” Georgette shoved a paper dated a few weeks ago onto the desk and snapped the case lid closed.
A picture of a young woman with a warm smile, a button nose, and long wavy brunette hair sat below the fold on the front page under the headline: WOMAN STRUCK BY MAX TRAIN DIES.
I winced at the thought of her violent end. “I’m sorry. Such a pretty girl.”
“She was perfect.” Georgette pulled off her gloves, her eyes brimming. “The train destroyed that. Do you know what a train does to a hundred-pound woman?” Her voice trembled.
To avoid envisioning the impact, I replaced it with the smiling face of Mitz, my eight-year-old daughter. Which made it worse. If anything ever happened to her… How Georgette wasn’t a puddle on the Formica eluded me. I took a minute to read the story. According to the article, Brooke Hanson fell from the sidewalk into the path of an oncoming MAX train downtown at Ninth and Morrison Street. The police reported alcohol was a contributing factor. “They detained the sole witness who found her, Jay Nightingale. Why?” I set the paper down.
Georgette brushed her hair away from her forehead flashing nails chewed to the quick. “At first, the police thought he had something to do with her fall. He told them he’d seen my Brooke stumble down the sidewalk and teeter on the edge of the curb. Supposedly, he called out the train was coming and she didn’t hear him. He made no effort to get her away from those tracks. When the autopsy showed she’d been drinking, they wrote her death off as an accident, released Mr. Nightingale, and closed the case.”
Their decision couldn’t have been that cut and dry. “How much had she been drinking?”
“You sound like the police.” Georgette lifted her chin and met my gaze. There are many stages to grief. One of them anger, another denial. Georgette straddled both, something I knew plenty about. “Not sure…exactly. You’ll have to check the report.”
I scanned her face for the truth. “You don’t know or you’re afraid to tell me?”
She massaged the palm of her hand with her thumb. “The bartender at the Limbo said she’d had a few before he’d cut her off and asked her to leave. None of that matters because Nightingale’s lying. He had something to do with her fall. He may have even pushed her. At the very least, he knows more than he’s telling.”
My eyebrows raised. The police weren’t perfect, but they had solid procedures in death investigations. They would have explored that angle. “What are you basing that on?”
“My gut.”
A mother’s intuition while undeniable, alone didn’t prove foul play. “Did the MAX operator see Mr. Nightingale next to her at any point?”
“He didn’t even see her because the area wasn’t well lit.”
“Do you have his name?”
“Chris Foley.”
I jotted the information down. “What do the train’s cameras show?”
“There weren’t any. And no passenger statements because the train was done for the night. But Brooke shouldn’t have even been in the vicinity of that train.”
“Where is the Limbo located?”
“Ten blocks from where she was hit.”
A half mile, give or take. “Could she have been heading to catch the MAX to go home?”
“Brooke detested mass transit. The people who ride during the day scared her. She wouldn’t go there at night. Besides, she lived south of town. The train wouldn’t have taken her there.” She sighed. “I’m telling you, she wouldn’t be that far from the bar unless someone…” She closed her eyes.
Georgette talked in circles attempting to make sense of it all, but I had first-hand knowledge of drunk people doing things out of character. Given what she’d described, I could understand why the police had closed the matter. Even so, her devastation gripped my heart. And something had brought her out on this rainy Friday. “What are you holding back, Ms. Hanson? Why do you feel so strongly Mr. Nightingale was involved that you’d come to my dad for help?”
She stared at her hands as if they held the answers. “Brooke had changed in the last year. Become more distant. Not visiting. Missing our weekly calls.” The corner of her mouth turned upward in a sad smile. “We used to go for pie once a month. She loved pie. Apple pie. Cherry pie.” Her smile melted. “One day she was too busy and couldn’t get away. When she did, she didn’t look well. Stressed.”
“Did she say what was bothering her?”
“No. She shut me out, which she’d never done before. Now to have been killed by a train downtown when that Nightingale fellow was close enough to stop it from happening? He’s involved. I can feel it.” She straightened. “Until I know what happened that night, I won’t rest.” Georgette reached into her purse and produced an envelope grasped in her right hand. “Here’s three thousand for you to find the truth. Please say you’ll help me.”
Despite steady work from a few law firms around town, and an adequate divorce settlement, being a single mom often meant more month than money. Georgette was offering twice what I made in a good month of process serving and that would go a long way in taking care of my little girl. Not needing to ever rely on my ex would have been incentive alone, but there was more to it than that.
I’d recognized Georgette’s name the moment she’d said it. At the reading of my dad’s will, his lawyer had handed me a handwritten letter. It was a request from my dad that if a Georgette Hanson ever came to his door asking for help, I should assist and not ask questions why. It had meant nothing at the time. I’d figured it was due to his unending dedication to his clients.
Because Georgette had a connection to my dad in some capacity, that sealed my decision to at least try and help her. While I’d been directed not to ask questions, even he would have needed the obvious one answered before he took her money.
“You said she’d changed. Is there any chance she might have…I mean, was she depressed? Could she have stepped…”
Georgette cut me off. “Stop.” Her eyes grew wide with denial and the damn broke. Tears poured over her cheeks; her shoulders shook, buckling from the weight of her anguish. The anger and determination she’d used as a mask crumbled, and each passing second exposed another layer of her gut-wrenching grief.
I shifted at witnessing her raw emotion, bracing myself against my own around my father, and my thoughts on Mitz. Tears stung my eyes, unsure how to comfort my client when I struggled to do that for myself.
She muffled a wail with the back of her hand and finally drew in deep breaths until the sobs subsided.
I grabbed a box of Kleenex behind me. She already had a handful of tissue ready from her purse. I’d back off the notion of suicide—for the moment. The woman didn’t need any more distress than she’d already endured.
She sniffed hard a couple of times and sopped up her face with the tissue. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I swiped under my eyes with my fingers, gaining control over my thoughts. “I’m not sure I’ll uncover anything new, but I will look for you.”
“Thank you.” She composed herself and stuffed the tissue back in her purse for the next inevitable breakdown.
I handed Georgette one of my dad’s old contracts, explaining my hourly rate, and a couple of authorization forms that might come in handy if requesting any case files was necessary.
She signed her name without bothering to read the fine print. She stood, the vinyl chair screeching against the hardwood floor startling Floyd. Her expression softened. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-two.”
“Brooke was a couple of years older, but pretty, like you and with the same flowing brown hair and kind eyes.” She sniffed. “I came to Roger because he could get to the heart of things. If you’re like him, you’ll find out what happened to my baby.”
I’d never be as good as my dad, but I did possess his mule-like stubbornness to get to the bottom of things. My ex could attest to that. “I’ll do what I can.”
She nodded. “Brooke was a good girl. She loved animals, ran every morning, and worked for the law firm Anderson, Hiefield & Price. She was the head accountant there.” Her face beamed with pride before her chin trembled again, but she held it together.
“It might help if I get a better sense of who she was.” I slid the legal pad to her. “If I could get her address, I’d like to start there.”
Georgette jotted the information down and pushed it back to me. She dug into her purse and produced the key. “I haven’t brought myself to go there yet.”
I gave her a sympathetic smile. “Are there family or friends I should start with?”
“Besides my husband, Chester, there’s just her sister, Hannah, who lives in Seattle. They weren’t close.” Georgette cleared her throat. “She never spoke to me about friends or boyfriends. Honestly, with her work schedule, she didn’t have time for any.”
With my own social life lacking, I related. “Do you have her cell? I’d like to check who she had on speed dial.”
She shook her head. “It wasn’t among her belongings.”
What thirty-something didn’t have their phone glued to them? Unless the impact of the train threw it. Another image I pushed away. I rounded my desk and walked her out of my office.
“Please keep in touch on how the investigation is going,” she said.
I assured her I would. She squeezed my arm to thank me as she left. With a twist of the deadbolt, I rested my shoulder against the door and closed my eyes. Mitz would get hugged a little closer tonight.
At my desk, Floyd trotted over and sat at my feet. He rested his chin on my lap while I added a few more notes. His sixth sense of when I needed him never faltered. I tucked the notes, along with a couple of divorce petitions into my bag to serve in between outings with Mitz.
It was early enough to get to Brooke’s place, about twenty minutes away, and to the grocery store so Mitz and I weren’t eating PB&Js for dinner. The faster I got started and found answers, the sooner Georgette could begin healing. If I was lucky, Brooke’s phone would be sitting on her nightstand waiting to be found.
Before getting up, I pulled the letter from my dad out of the top drawer and unfolded the paper. I traced the ruts in the desk we shared with my finger as I read his words. Georgette’s name was there in black and white. I had wanted to ask her more about how she knew my dad, but he’d been explicit in his request. He was a good man, albeit a tough man that I didn’t question. Nor had I ever felt the need to. It hadn’t been easy for him after my mom died, and we became the Two Musketeers. We may have run out of time for him to teach me everything he knew about being a P.I., but I’d learn as I went. I had no other choice. Helping Georgette was the last thing I could do for him. And I would.
“Ready to boogie, Floyd?” I flicked off the lights and Floyd padded behind me down the narrow hall to the backdoor.
We jogged to my yellow 1980 Triumph Spitfire, a gift from my dad when I graduated. “You know the routine, buddy.” Floyd stretched himself halfway into the car, and with a grunt, I lifted in his other half. He tripped over the manual gearshift and settled into the passenger seat as I slunk behind the wheel. The engine started right up, for a change.
Brooke was a couple of years older than me—far too young to die. Was Nightingale involved in her death? Did he know more than he was telling? Or was he just a helpless bystander who could only watch Brooke fall because she was drunk off her ass? I had a feeling I’d be returning the bulk of Georgette’s money after putting in some legwork. With a case the Portland police had already closed and an eyewitness who’d already been cleared, what other possibility was there?
***
Author Bio
Mary Keliikoa spent the first 18 years of her adult life working around lawyers. Combining her love of all things legal and books, she creates a twisting mystery where justice prevails. She has had a short story published in Woman’s World and is the author of the PI Kelly Pruett Mystery Series.
At home in Washington, she enjoys spending time with her family and her writing companions/fur-kids. When not at home, you can find Mary on a beach on the Big Island where she and her husband recharge. But even under the palm trees and blazing sun she’s plotting her next murder—novel that is.
This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Mary Keliikoa. There will be 2 winners of one (1) Amazon.com Gift Card each. The giveaway begins on September 1, 2020 and runs through October 2, 2020. Void where prohibited.
