Taryn Moore is young, beautiful and brilliant…so why would she kill herself? When Detective Frankie Loomis arrives on the scene to investigate the girl’s fatal plunge from her apartment balcony, she knows in her gut there’s more to the story, especially after the autopsy reveals that the college senior was pregnant. It could be reason enough for suicide-or a motive for murder.
To English professor Jack Dorian, Taryn was the ultimate fantasy: intelligent, adoring, and completely off limits. But there was also a dark side to Taryn, a dangerous streak that threatened those she turned her affections to–including Jack. And now that she’s dead, his problems are just beginning.
After Frankie uncovers a trove of sordid secrets, it becomes clear that Jack may know the truth. He is guilty of deception, but is he capable of cold-blooded murder?
***
Elise’s Thoughts
Choose Me by Tess Gerritsen and Gary Braver delve into the world of adultery. The story conjures up feelings of betrayal, deception, guilt, and personal responsibility.
The novel opens with the death of college student Taryn Moore, who supposedly plunged to her death from the balcony of her apartment. But Boston Detective Frankie Loomis wonders if the death really was a suicide, or could it be possibly a murder. For her, the clues do not add up, knowing how college age girls act (considering she has raised twin daughters). After discovering additional and sordid secrets, the detective is even more convinced that Taryn’s death is not what it seems.
The narrative works backwards from the discovery of Taryn’s body and is delivered in alternating chapters by Taryn, Jack, and Frankie. The suspects include Professor Jack Dorian, his wife, Dr. Maggie, Taryn’s seminar nemesis, mean girls Jessica and Caitlin, Cody Atwood, the shy seminar student who has a crush on Taryn, and Liam the ex-boyfriend who Taryn is stalking.
As the book progresses, readers will also realize that Taryn is not the innocent victim. She has a dangerous streak where she can be ruthless and selfish. This shows in her two relationships, one with Liam, a childhood sweetheart who outgrew her, and the other with Jack, her college professor. With both, Taryn becomes a stalker, unwilling to accept the relationship is over.
Taryn sees herself as a victim and becomes obsessed with that feeling. After taking a college seminar, “Star Crossed Lovers,” she realizes the similarities between herself and women in Medieval and Greek mythology. All have been betrayed and abandoned by men in relationships. Whether it was Abelard and Heloise, Tristan and Isolde, Romeo and Juliet, or Jason and Medea, the men said the words “I love you,” but not for a lifetime.
The many twists and turns make for an exciting read. The authors turned the characters on their heads making the supposed victim unlikeable and the adulterer, the one people root for.
***
Elise’s Author Interview
Elise Cooper: How did you get the idea for the story?
Tess Gerritsen: It occurred to me these kinds of events that are a “he said, she said,” always have two points of view. The man sees it differently than the woman. I thought how interesting it would be to base a story on an illicit affair. I talked about it with Gary, and he agreed to write the male point of view, while I wrote the female view.
Gary Braver: I wrote Jack and Tess did Detective Frankie Loomis and Taryn. We wrote by going back and forth with email.
EC: As the book progressed, I did not see Taryn as a victim and even disliked her.
TG: People are not supposed to like her just because she is a victim. There are shades of gray. We wanted to show how a victim can also be a villain. What readers want and what they desire are two different things. They think they want a likeable character but really want a fascinating character. I point to Scarlett O’ Hara. She is not a likeable character, but we cannot walk away because she is so interesting.
EC: I actually thought of Jack as the victim.
TG: Jack was the one person in the book who needed to be liked because he is our hero.
GB: I liked Jack and identified with him. I think he became a sympathetic character because of his sense of guilt and regret. He knew what he did was wrong when he violated his martial vows and professorial obligations. Title IX says professors should not date their students. Jack had an adulterous affair and was tormented with what he did.
EC: How would you describe Taryn?
TG: Brilliant, charming, and beautiful. She was like a train wreck because of her obsessiveness and how damaged and hurt she was. In the beginning she was vulnerable, betrayed, hurt, and damaged, but as the story went on, she became selfish. Her personality is like peeling an onion. As readers get deeper and deeper into knowing her, they realize she is not who she seems to be at the beginning.
EC: How would you describe Jack?
GB: Sensitive, needy, and longs for romanticism. At times he wants to believe that circumstances at home pushed him into Taryn’s arms because his wife is on a treadmill with her practice. We did not want to vilify either character or exonerate them.
EC: What role does Jack’s wife Maggie play?
TG: Is she an innocent victim or possible suspect? She is the anchor to Jack. We wrote her to show the consequences of a mistake and how lives are destroyed. Jack sees it as possibly losing the love of his life, Maggie.
GB: She is smart, dedicated, and a professional. She would never have an affair. Both she and Jack are devoted to and love each other.
EC: How would you describe Detective Frankie Loomis?
TG: She is a middle-aged mother of two teenage daughters with the wisdom of motherhood. She can sniff out trouble. I see Frankie as Jane Rizzoli in twenty years.
EC: What about the relationship between Taryn and Jack?
TG: Jack fulfills a romantic need as well as a parental lead for Taryn. Her father abandoned her, so she sees Jack as a romantic hero, the man to protect her.
EC: Medieval literature and Greek Mythology?
GB: In his seminar, “Star Struck Lovers,” Jack uses classical stories where men used and abandoned women. It is the unity that holds the book together. These ancient classics are still being debated by feminists today regarding what is an accurate and inaccurate way to interpret them. It is a history of men who do wrong and fall on their swords.
TG: Taryn feels closest to Medea who gets revenge. I would have taken this seminar if I were in college. The stories we found are ones where Taryn would see herself of being abandoned or losing a lover. They were role models for her on how she would behave. She put herself into their lives to help her live her life.
EC: Can you explain this quote from Taryn. “But if you believe entirely in fate, then you believe we have no control over our futures. That some higher power decides everything for us, good and bad. That means there are no coincidences in life, no accidents, no laws of nature, and no free will… People are ultimately responsible for their own actions.”
GB: It was referring to Romeo and Juliet and based on the notion ‘I am fated to be your lover. We are to be with each other for the rest of our lives.’
TG: Gary wrote that part of fate versus self-control. I agree that a lot of people feel they are not responsible anymore. Fate made someone do it or some politician. We need to take responsibility for our own actions. We also need to face the consequences for our actions without blaming anyone else.
EC: What do you want readers to get out of the book?
TG: It is not just a murder mystery, but also an exploration of how flawed people are. A mistake can destroy someone’s life and that we are responsible for the things we do.
EC: What about your next books?
TG: I just finished Rizzoli & Isles book thirteen. It is titled, Listen To Me and will be out in June 2022. It features Jane’s mom, Angela, who has an ex-cop boyfriend. She is frustrated because she feels no one listens to her concerns. People do not necessarily believe her instincts that something is really wrong in her neighborhood.
I am working on a spy novel. The protagonist works for the CIA and I got the idea from many retired CIA agents that live in my neighborhood.
I am also in negotiations to do a TV movie for Lifetime with a screenwriter friend of mine.
GB: My next book is titled Served Cold. It is about a mystery writer who thinks they have a breakout book until it is trashed in the New York Times by a reviewer. The author goes after the reviewer.
THANK YOU!!
BIO: Elise Cooper has written book reviews and interviewed best-selling authors since 2009. Her reviews have covered several different genres, including thrillers, mysteries, women’s fiction, romance and cozy mysteries. An avid reader, she engages authors to discuss their works, and to focus on the descriptions of their characters and the plot. While not writing reviews, Elise loves to watch baseball and visit the ocean in Southern California, with her dog and husband.
THE HIVE by Gregg Olsen is a suspense/thriller/police procedural which revolves around the present-day murder of a college journalist investigating a death and cover up in the past. The death in the past leads back to a charismatic beauty and wellness guru and her “Hive” of close followers on a small island in the Pacific Northwest.
Detective Lindsay Jackman is reeling from the suicide of her partner and is immediately thrown into an investigation of a young college journalist found naked at the bottom of a ravine. Lindsay discovers the dead girl was working on an expose of Marnie Spellman.
Marnie Spellman tells the world the tale of her being lifted by a swarm of bees and being given a spiritual connection to nature and God, who is female. Using honey, royal jelly and other natural ingredients, Marnie builds a cosmetics empire. But Marnie is also a guru or charlatan, depending on your view, who makes others believe in her power to elevate women to a higher level as they also obtain holistic health and eternal beauty. Her inner circle of six is called the Hive and they share in Marnie’s success, but also her biggest secret which could destroy them all.
As Lindsay digs into Marnie’s empire and the Hive, the women are determined to keep their secrets at all costs, including silencing any who could reveal the truth.
This story pulled me in from the very first page, but as the story progresses it switches time frames frequently and it can get confusing at times. Lindsay is a dogged investigator and I enjoyed how she was impressed by Marnie, but her investigation was never influenced by her. This book is full of surprising plot twists as Marnie and each individual Hive member’s secrets are revealed. I am always interested in stories, fictional and non, where a person can be so charismatic as to lead the average person to do terrible things. The story’s climax surprised me and all the story threads are tied together in a way that left me satisfied.
I can recommend this suspense/thriller for a compelling and unique police procedural read.
***
About the Author
I live in rural Washington State (about a mile as the crow flies from Dr. Linda Burfield Hazzard’s infamous Starvation Heights sanatarium). My thriller, THE LAST THING SHE EVER DID was an Amazon Charts bestseller. LYING NEXT TO ME was a reader favorite, charting at No. 1 in the Kindle store and hitting the bestseller’s list at the Washington Post. My true crime book, IF YOU TELL, found a home on Amazon Charts for more than 60 weeks. In fact, it was the bestselling Kindle ebook of 2020. I’ve been a guest on Dateline NBC, NPR, Good Morning America, The Early Show, FOX News, CNN, Anderson Cooper, Entertainment Tonight, Inside Edition, Extra, Access Hollywood, 20/20, Snapped, Deadly Women, William Shatner’s Aftermath, and A&E’s Biography.
You can find out more about me at www.NotoriousUSA.com.
Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review on the Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tours for DEAD TREE TALES by Rush Leaming.
Below you will find a book description, my book review, an excerpt from the book, the author’s bio and social media links and a Rafflecopter giveaway. Enjoy!
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Book Description
Set in Charleston, SC, and the surrounding islands, police are called to investigate the poisoning of a much-loved 1000-year-old tree, only to find evidence of a more brutal crime. From there, the story explodes into a fast-paced, multi-character thriller unlike any you’ve ever read.
Not for the faint of heart…“Dead Tree Tales by Rush Leaming is about a lot more than a dead tree. It’s a mystery. It’s a crime story. It’s a thriller. It’s a powerful comment on today’s society and politics… fast-paced, full of action and intrigue… It’s a real page-turner and just a fantastic read.” – Lorraine Cobcroft, Reader’s Favorite
Genre: Crime Thriller Published by: Bridgewood Publication Date: June 8th 2021 Number of Pages: 488 ISBN: 0999745654 (ISBN13: 9780999745656)
***
My Book Review
RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars
DEAD TREE TALES by Rush Leaming is a fantastic new mystery/crime thriller that is impossible to put down. Mr. Leaming ties together several crimes which include the arboricide of a 1000-year-old legendary tree with the murder of an unknown young female all with acute observations of today’s political and societal unrest and corruption.
Detectives Charlie Harper and Elena Vasquez of the Charlestown PD are called out to Johns Island to investigate the poisoning of Addison’s Oak nicknamed “The Tree” which has survived for 1000 years. As they survey the area, they also notice blood on the grass and the severed tip of a finger.
As the investigation progresses, it becomes more complex, twisted and leads to a startling climax.
I cannot say enough about how much I enjoyed this book. The author’s observations through the eyes of his two main characters brings Charlestown and the coastal islands to life. Each of the two main detectives are having personal family problems which the author handles with honesty and empathy. The secondary characters are also fully fleshed and add to the depth and realism of the story. All the characters could walk right off the page. The politics and racial tensions are woven throughout and based on current events.
I feel this is one of the most perfectly crafted mix of characterization and plotted mystery/crime thrillers that I have read. I loved it!
I highly recommend this story.
***
Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE
It was known simply as The Tree; that is what the locals on Johns Island, South Carolina, called it. A Southern live oak born a thousand years ago (some even said fifteen hundred), its gargantuan limbs swirled and stretched as much as two hundred feet in all directions. The lower arms, heavy with age, sometimes sank into the earth only to reemerge. Other branches flailed recklessly in the sky, like some sort of once-screaming kraken turned to wood by an ancient curse.
Generation after generation had protected it. Rising from the center of a former indigo plantation, and now officially known as Addison’s Oak, The Tree had long been a source of pride, even fear, in the surrounding community, as well as James Island, Wadmalaw Island, and the nearby city of Charleston.
But now, The Tree was dying. It was not from natural causes either, not from time, nor gravity, nor the weather.
Someone had killed it.
“Is that a thing?” Detective Charlie Harper asked as he turned his head to look at his partner, Detective Elena Vasquez.
“I think so.” Elena squinted her eyes toward the top of the canopy, the leafy summit shadowed and backlit by the noon sun.
“Arborcide? That’s a thing?” Charlie asked again.
An Asian-American man in his mid-twenties wearing wraparound sunglasses stood next to the two detectives. “Yep. You remember that incident a few years ago in Auburn? Toomer’s Corner. Crazy Alabama fan poisoned the tree there.”
“Yeah,” Charlie said. “But I mean legally. Is it legally a crime to do this?”
“Cops were involved there,” the man said. “The guy went to jail. Has to be something. Why don’t you call them? See what they did.” He pulled a pack of spearmint gum from the front pocket of his jeans and stuffed five pieces in his mouth, noticing Charlie watching him. “Quitting smoking. Nicotine gum makes me dizzy.”
Charlie nodded. “Been there.” Six feet tall, with a closely trimmed beard under bright-blue eyes, he walked around the perimeter of the field.
Salt air swirled around him—they were only a couple of miles from the beach—and Charlie realized it was the first time he had been away from the city and out on the islands in months, maybe even over a year.
Elena Vasquez, an athletic five-ten with shoulder-length black hair bobby-pinned over her ears, stood in front of the young man and opened a new page in the Notes app on her iPhone. “So, you’re the one who called about this?”
“Yes. It took some digging to figure out who to contact. I didn’t know there weren’t any police stations out here.”
“That’s correct.” She typed the date 5/19/2015 at the top of the page. “Closest station is the Island Sheriff’s Patrol on James Island, but they don’t handle things like this. That’s why you got us from the city. And who are you again?”
“Daniel Lee.”
She looked up from her iPhone. “Daniel is a nice name. It’s my son’s name, though we call him Danny. Where are you from, Mr. Lee?”
“I’m originally from Maryland—Chesapeake Bay area—but now I live in Charleston. West Ashley. I’m a Ph.D. candidate at the college.”
“College of Charleston?” Elena asked and continued typing.
“Yes. Environmental science. Teach a couple of undergrad classes as well. And I’m president of the local Sierra Club chapter. Our service project for this year has been public park maintenance and cleanup. I came here a week ago and saw that broken limb—”
“This one?” Charlie pointed at a fat twisted branch about the length of a Greyhound bus lying near the base of the tree.
“Yes.”
“Well . . .” Charlie said. “How do you know it wasn’t lightning or something?”
Daniel went over to Charlie and squatted next to the fallen limb. “There are no burn marks. Lightning would leave those.”
“Maybe it’s just old age. Isn’t this thing like a thousand years old or something?”
“Possibly more. It is rotting,” Daniel said. “But not from old age. See this discoloration? The rust-colored saturation of the stump where it broke?”
Charlie leaned in a little closer. “Yes.”
“That’s from poison, from a lot of poison. And you can see spots like this forming and spreading all around the trunk and on other branches.”
Elena stood beneath The Tree, placing her hand on a dark-orange splotch on the trunk. The gray bark surrounding the stain felt tough and firm, but inside the color spot, it was soft and crumbling. “I see it.”
“It’s like cancer,” Daniel said. “The Tree is not dead yet, but it will be soon. I had the soil tested as well as samples from the broken limb. They came back positive for massive levels of DS190.”
“And that is?” Charlie said.
“A variant of tebuthiuron. A very powerful herbicide. Similar to what was used at Toomer’s Corner. Somebody has been injecting the tree as well as dumping it into the ground. Probably for a few months to reach these levels.”
“Injecting the tree?” Elena said.
Daniel pulled them over to the base of the trunk where a ring of jagged holes stretched just above the ground. “Yes. See these gashes? Somebody has been boring into the trunk, then filling it with DS190.”
Charlie took out a pair of latex gloves and put them on before touching the holes in the trunk. “You’re sure this is intentional?”
“Has to be. This stuff doesn’t just appear on its own. It’s man-made. Someone has been doing this.”
“But why?” Charlie asked.
Daniel held out a hand, palm up. “Thus, the reason the two of you are here.”
Charlie shook his head. “I don’t know about this. We usually work homicide.”
Daniel gestured towards the gashes in the trunk. “You have a murder victim. Or soon will. Right in front of you.”
“But it’s a tree!” Charlie said.
Elena looked up from her phone. “Okay, Mr. Harper. Easy.”
Daniel motioned for them to follow as he walked to the backside of the trunk. “There’s something else.” He came to a stop in a patch of grass ringed with dandelion sprouts and pointed to dark-red streaks spread across the blades. “That’s blood, isn’t it?”
Charlie bent down and touched his gloved hand to one of the blades. “Maybe.” He took out a plastic bag and a Leatherman multitool from his jacket. He pulled apart the hinged scissors, then clipped away about a dozen pieces of grass and dropped them into the bag.
“And another thing,” Daniel said and led Elena to a spot about ten feet away. He pointed to a white card lying in the grass. “I didn’t touch any of this, by the way. I didn’t want to disturb the crime scene . . . I watch a lot of cop shows. I know how that goes.”
“Doesn’t everyone.” Elena squatted down, taking a plastic bag from her jacket. She used tweezers to pick up the card, muddy and frayed at the edges and turned it over to reveal a yellow cat emoji, just the head, whiskers, and a faint smile, printed on the opposite side. There were no words, just the image.
A strong breeze moved through the leaves of the great tree, a sound like rain showers mixed with groaning as the heavy limbs bent in the wind.
Charlie Harper removed his glove and rubbed the edge of his dark-brown beard. Looking at the massive branches, which did seem like the arms of giants, he began to understand why The Tree was such a big deal. “Have to say, it is beautiful here. Can’t believe I’ve been in Charleston four years and never been here. I should bring Amy. She’d love it.”
Daniel looked at Elena for an explanation.
“His daughter,” she said, then turned to Charlie. “You should. My dad brought me here a few times when I was a kid.”
“Well, you better hurry,” Daniel said.
“There’s nothing to stop it?” Elena asked.
“Probably not. I contacted a team of forestry researchers I know from Virginia Tech. They are going to send a team down to look at it, see if anything can be done. I sent a request to the Parks Department to pay for it. If they don’t, Sierra Club will hold a fundraiser.”
Charlie sighed. “Okay. While we decide what to do about this, I’ll call and have some signs and barriers put up to keep the tourists away.”
Elena turned to Daniel. “Thank you for meeting us here. Could you come to our station in the city today or tomorrow to give a formal statement?”
“Sure.”
“Bring copies of the lab work. We gonna find anything when we do a background check on you?”
Daniel shook his head. “No. Just some parking tickets . . . a lot of tickets actually. Parking at the college is a bitch.”
“That it is,” Elena said. “Here is my card if you think of anything else.”
“Thanks,” Daniel said. He stopped a moment as if to say something, then continued toward a white Chevy Volt parked near the road.
Elena looked at Charlie and raised her eyebrows. “So, Mr. Harper, what do you think?”
“Ehh . . . I mean I understand it’s old and rare and special and all that, but it’s a fucking tree. I don’t know anything about trees, do you?”
“No, but . . .”
“But what?”
“I don’t know,” Elena said and looked around the field. “My Spidey-sense tells me there’s more to it than just some weird vandalism.” She took a step forward and winced.
“Back acting up?” Charlie asked.
“A bit,” she said.
“Lunchtime anyway. Let’s take a break. I’m starving. June and I got into it again this morning. Skipped breakfast.”
“Sorry to hear that.” Elena swept a strand of black hair behind her ear. She pointed with her chin down a two-lane road to a crooked sign with a faded image of a pagoda: The Formosa Grill. “Chinese?”
“Sure,” Charlie said.
The two of them began to walk toward their gray Ford Explorer when Charlie saw a flash of white out of the corner of his eye. He stopped and knelt in the grass. He used his Leatherman tool to again pry away several blades.
“What is it?” Elena asked.
Charlie’s head bolted upright, his blue eyes narrowing. “Mr. Lee!” he shouted. He pulled another latex glove from his pocket.
In the parking lot, Daniel climbed out of his car and made his way back to the field. “Yes?”
“Mr. Lee, when was the last time you were here before meeting us today?”
“Yesterday morning,” Daniel said.
Elena knelt next to Charlie, looked into the grass, and let a low whistle escape her lips. She used her phone to take a photo.
Charlie used tweezers to pick up a severed finger. Sliced just below the knuckle, the stump crusted in blood, the flesh covered with red ants, it ended with a sharp green fingernail. He looked at Daniel. “Did you happen to notice this?”
Daniel swallowed hard, turning his face to the side. “No. I did not.”
Charlie put the finger in a plastic bag.
Elena looked at him, her wide brown eyes giving him a knowing shimmer. “You interested in this case now, Mr. Harper?”
Charlie didn’t flinch. He stared at The Tree.
***
Author Bio
RUSH LEAMING has done many things including spending 15+ years in film/video production working on such projects as The Lord of the Rings films. His first novel, Don’t Go, Ramanya, a political thriller set in Thailand, was self-published in the fall of 2016 and reached number one on Amazon. His equally successful second novel, entitled The Whole of the Moon, a coming-of-age tale set in the Congo at the end of the Cold War, was published in 2018. His short stories have appeared in Notations, 67 Press, Lightwave, Green Apple, 5k Fiction, and The Electric Eclectic. He has lived in New York City, Los Angeles, Atlanta, Zaire, Thailand, Spain, Greece, England, and Kenya. He currently lives in South Carolina.
Today I am posting on the Harlequin Trade Publishing Winter 2021 Mystery and Thriller Blog Tour. I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for this first in a four book series – DANGERIN NUMBERS by Heather Graham.
Below you will find an author Q&A, a book summary, my book review, an excerpt from the book and the author’s bio and social media links. Enjoy!
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Author Q&A
Q: Please give the elevator pitch for Danger in Numbers.
A: Danger in Numbers is the first in a four book series based on crimes with a mastermind playing with the concept of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. A Florida Department of Law Enforcement agent winds up working a strange, ritualistic murder discovered in the Everglades along with an FBI agent, who, due to his past, has a unique ability to investigate the machinations of cults.
Q: Which came first: the characters or plot line?
A: A drive through my state on Highway 27! The area for the beginning first–then characters and plot falling in together!
Q: Why do you love Amy and Hunter and why should readers root for them?
A: I always love people who are able to take something negative happening and turn it into something good for others or for the future. I also greatly admire our FDLE, and so many of the men and women working in the department!
Q: What is one thing about publishing you wish someone would have told you?
A: Hm. Publishing has changed so much since I started! But, I did start without an agent and I think that a good agent is priceless. And, a good agent isn’t necessarily the agent you hear about being the “best.” The “best” agent is the one who loves your work and really wants to go to bat for you!
Q: With your two lead characters being in law enforcement, I was curious about the research into police procedures. Have you ever taken one of the law enforcement ‘schools’ for authors? Or do you personally have experience or know folks in law enforcement?
A: One of my favorite conferences is The Police Writers Academy. It’s run by Lee Lofland and he brings in specialists from all kinds of agencies, dealing with so many factions regarding law enforcement, evidence, and the law itself. I’m also grateful to International Thriller Writers for trips to the New York offices of the FBI–and out to the CIA. Mystery Writers have also brought in wonderful speakers to various conferences, and, of course, I have friends who are still with–or were with–various law department agencies. And my five children have paid off nicely! One has a U.S. Marshal friend who brought me through his offices and another friend is a Miami-Dade detective.
They may start running now when they see me coming!
But they’re seriously wonderfully helpful.
Q: I’ve always wanted to see them. Have you been on location to the Florida Everglades before?
A: I grew up in Miami and I love trips out to Shark Valley and other areas of the Everglades. I love visiting our Native American villages and information centers in both Miami-Dade and Broward Counties. We do have mosquitos, alligators, and now, of course, massive constrictors, but we also have amazing birds and incredible nature sites. We’re unique! Down at the tip of the state, we also have crocodiles. No, I don’t really want to play with them or get close to them! But the habitat, the hammocks, wetlands, and more are all uniquely beautiful.
Q: How much research do you do before beginning to write a book? Do you go to locations, ride with police, go to see an autopsy, etc.
A: It always depends on what I’m doing. I have friends who prefer their research on line–when I can, I love to travel. There are certain cities and areas I love and return to, but bizarre stories can be found in tiny towns and almost anywhere. Fiction will never be stranger than truth! When I can, I go to locations and speak with law enforcement or those close to a situation. When I can’t . . . well, I have a massive library and thankfully, friends who have been police and medical examiners!
Q: Do you write under one name for all books across genres or do you have other AKA’s?
A: I do have an AKA — Shannon Drake. At one time, I was writing historical novels under the name, and then doing a vampire series under it as well. Many of the publishers later reissued them under Heather Graham. (Went a little crazy a couple of months ago and wrote an historical, Arthurian fantasy, Daughter of Darkness and Light. Because it’s very different from contemporary thrillers, it’s up under Shannon Drake.) Years ago, I also used my full married name for a few books–Heather Graham Pozzessere. But Pozzessere is apparently hard to say, making it difficult for booksellers! But my dad was Graham, so writing as Graham is important to me!
Q: What’s your favorite part of writing suspense?
A: Taking a situation–and ending it the way I want it to end!
Q: Do you prefer reading and/or writing suspense with elements of romance? Why or why not?
A: I like relationships, I think they often define us. If not necessarily romance, I still like a story to contain friendships or other relationships.
Q: From the books you’ve written or read, who has been your favorite villain and why?
A: LOL – I don’t have a favorite child and I don’t have a favorite villain! That said, I have always loved Maleficent. She was my girl long before they cast Angelina Jolie as Maleficent in a movie. So evil and glamorous! And now, of course, we know she’s the classic, misunderstood villain–if only the world had treated her more kindly!
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Book Summary
On the edge of the Everglades, a brutal murder and an eerie crime scene set off an investigation that sends two agents deep into a world of corrupted faith, greed and deadly secrets.
A ritualistic murder on the side of a remote road brings in the Florida state police. Special Agent Amy Larson has never seen worse, and there are indications that this killing could be just the beginning. The crime draws the attention of the FBI in the form of Special Agent Hunter Forrest, a man with insider knowledge of how violent cults operate, and a man who might never be able to escape his own past.
The rural community is devastated by the death in their midst, but people know more than they are saying. As Amy and Hunter join forces, every lead takes them further into the twisted beliefs of a dangerous group that will stop at nothing to see their will done.
DANGER IN NUMBERS by Heather Graham is the first of a four book series featuring two agents chasing after a multi-tentacled cult based on the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. This book can be read as a standalone and does not end on a cliffhanger, but it does have an ending that sets up the next book in the series.
FDLE Special Agent Amy Larson is studying the horrific scene of a ritualistic murder with her partner when an FBI agent appears at their location without being requested. At first, Amy has reservations about this agent, but soon ends up assisting him when her partner is off the case.
FBI Special Agent Hunter Forrest has heard of the crime scene discovered by the FDLE and believes it ties into his current case. He rushes to the scene to see it for himself. He soon proves to Amy that he is uniquely qualified to investigate cults and is impressed with her abilities and knowledge.
In rural small town central Florida, women are being gruesomely sacrificed and the crimes seem to be following an interpretation of the white horseman of “Death” in the story of the Apocalypse. The group wants Amy. Will Hunter be able to keep her safe?
I enjoyed getting to know these new protagonists and I am looking forward to following them through the future Apocalypse books. Amy was a strong female heroine who did not wait around to be saved and Hunter was her perfect foil. He is intelligent and determined to save people from cults, but he never overshadowed Amy. The romance grows as the two work together, but for me it was a little forced and I would have been OK with it happening later in the series, although I did enjoy the epilogue. The plot moves at a fast pace to the ultimate climax with several twists. All the secondary characters add to the story’s depth and not all are as they seem.
Overall, I can recommend this start to an exciting new romantic suspense thriller series.
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Excerpt
PROLOGUE
Fall 1993
Sam
Sam Gallagher stood in the forest, deep within the trees, holding his wife and son to him as closely as he could, barely daring to breathe.
They would know by now. He and Jessie would be missed. He could imagine the scene: Jessie wouldn’t have appeared bright and early to help prepare the day’s meal with the other women. He wouldn’t be there to consume the porridge and water that was considered the ultimate meal for the workday—the porridge because it was a hearty meal, the water because it was ordained as the gift of life.
Their absence would be reported to Brother William, sitting his office—his throne room, Sam thought—where he would be guarded by his closest associates, the deacons of his church.
The family had only been in woods for a few minutes, but it seemed like an eternity. Jessie was so still Sam couldn’t hear her breathing, just feel the tremor of her heart.
Cameron was just six. And yet he knew the severity and danger of his situation. He stood as still and silent as any man could hope a child might be.
Panic seized Sam briefly.
What if Special Agent Dawson didn’t come? What if there had been a mix-up and he hadn’t been able to arrange for the Marshals Service to help?
What if they were found?
Stupid question. He knew the what if.
He gritted his teeth and fought against the fear that had washed over him like a tidal wave. Dawson was a good man; Sam knew he would keep his word. He’d arrived at the commune undercover, having the intuition to realize Sam’s feelings, his doubt, and his fear for his wife and his son. Together, Dawson had told him, they would bring down the Keepers of the Earth. His actions would free others. No, their actions would free others.
Today was the day. Just in time. Sam had known the danger of remaining, felt the way he was being watched by the Divine Leader’s henchmen.
They had to leave. Leave? No, there was no leaving the compound. There was only escaping.
Alana Fisk had wanted to leave, and they knew what had happened to her.
It had been Cameron who had found his beloved “aunt” Al- ana’s body at the bottom of the gorge, broken, lying beneath just inches of dry dust and rock, decomposing in her shallow grave. It had been Cameron, so young, who had become wary and suspicious first. He’d seen a few of the older boys in the area when he’d last seen Alana there, and he didn’t trust them. They were scary, Cameron said.
Sam tightened his hold on Cameron. Seconds ticked by like an eternity.
Sam closed his eyes and wondered how they had come to this, but he knew.
He and his wife had wanted something different. A life where riches didn’t make a man cruel.
Jessie hadn’t hated her father; she had hated what he stood for. And Sam knew the day when her mind had been made up. Downtown Los Angeles. They had seen a veteran of the Vietnam War, homeless, slunk against a wall. Only one of his legs remained; he had been struggling with his prosthetic, his cup for donations at his side. The homeless veteran had looked at Jessie’s father and said, “Please, sir, help if you can.”
Peter Wilson had walked right by. When Jessie had caught her father’s arm, he had turned on her angrily. “I didn’t get where I am by giving away my hard-earned money. He’s prob- ably lying about being a vet. He can get himself a damned job doing something!”
Sam had been walking behind them. Embarrassed, he tried to offer Jessie a weak smile. He hadn’t come from money, and he had lost his folks right after his twentieth birthday, but he was working in a coffee shop, dreaming he’d get to where he could work, go to college and have time left over to be with the woman he loved.
He had given the man a dollar and wished him well. Jessie had turned away from her father.
It was the last time Jessie saw her father. Despite the man’s efforts to break her and Sam up—or because of them—Jessie and Sam had eloped. The plan was to both get jobs and finish college through night school. Her father had suspected her pregnancy; he’d wanted her to get over Sam and terminate the baby.
Jessie quickly made friends at a park near their cheap apartment. They were old f lower children, she had told Sam. Old hippies, he’d liked to tease in return. But those friends had been happy, and they’d talked to Jessie about the beauty of their commune, far from the crazy greed and speed of the city.
In the beginning, Brother William’s commune did seem to offer it all: happiness, unity, love and light.
But now they knew the truth.
Brother William—with his “deacons,” his demands on his “flock” and the cache of arms he kept stowed away as he created his empire, demanding absolute power for himself, complete obedience among his followers. And it became clear Brother William’s will was enforced; he had those deacons—Brothers Colin, Anthony and Darryl, and the squad beneath them. They received special treatment.
Sam clutched his family as he strained to hear any unfamiliar sound in the woods. Was that footsteps? Was the rustling of branches just the breeze?
He had to stop dwelling on fear.
He had to stay strong. Maybe not ruminate on what they’d been through.
But there was nothing else to do while they waited, barely breathing.
Heather Graham is the New York Times and USA Today best-selling author has written over two hundred novels and novellas, has been published in approximately twenty-five languages and with about 60 million books sold in print in the categories of romantic suspense, historical romance, vampire fiction, time travel, occult, and Christmas holiday fare. For more information, visit her at TheOriginalHeatherGraham.com.
A MERCIFUL PROMISE (Mercy Kilpatrick Book #6) by Kendra Elliot is another edge-of-your-seat mystery/suspense/FBI thriller and I am sad to say the final book in the series. If you love an action-packed series with a uniquely strong female protagonist then this is the series for you.
FBI Agent Mercy Kilpatrick is asked to go undercover by the ATF when their agent becomes ill. She will be paired with another ATF agent already infiltrated into an anti-government group they believe have stolen firearms to sell for some unknown plot.
At the same time that Mercy has gone undercover, Truman is made aware of a puzzling series of murders. They are all men, shot once in the head and dumped in random locations. When the third victim turns out to be the agent Mercy was with on assignment, the ATF, FBI and Truman all come together to find Mercy and shut down the camp.
I have been putting off reading and reviewing this book because I have not wanted to leave Mercy and Truman’s world behind. Mercy has changed so much over these six books. She was so isolated starting in book one and now she has so many people she loves and that care about her. Truman is the perfect match for her. He has always understood what makes Mercy unique. All the characters, good and bad are realistic and seem as though they could walk right off the page. The plot pulls you in and the tension continues to build with unexpected twists while moving at a faster and faster pace to the ultimate climax. I was very happy when I read the last chapter that tied up Mercy and Truman’s lives together moving into the future even as I still want to visit.
I highly recommend this Mercy Kilpatrick book, the entire series and this author!
***
Author Bio
Kendra Elliot has landed on the Wall Street Journal bestseller list multiple times and is the award-winning author of the Bone Secrets and Callahan & McLane series, as well as the Mercy Kilpatrick novels: A Merciful Death, A Merciful Truth, and A Merciful Secret. Kendra is a three-time winner of the Daphne du Maurier Award, an International Thriller Writers finalist, and an RT Award finalist. She has always been a voracious reader, cutting her teeth on classic female heroines such as Nancy Drew, Trixie Belden, and Laura Ingalls. She was born, raised, and still lives in the rainy Pacific Northwest with her husband and three daughters, but she looks forward to the day she can live in flip-flops. Visit her at www.kendraelliot.com.
Today is my turn on this new Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tour. I am excited to be sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for SHADOW RIDGE (Jo Wyatt Mystery Book #1) by M.E. Browning. This is a great start to a new series and a realistic female protagonist.
Below you will find a book synopsis, my book review, an excerpt from the book and the author’s bio and social media links. Enjoy!
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Book Synopsis
Death is one click away when a string of murders rocks a small Colorado town in the first mesmerizing novel in M. E. Browning’s A Jo Wyatt Mystery series.
Echo Valley, Colorado, is a place where the natural beauty of a stunning river valley meets a budding hipster urbanity. But when an internet stalker is revealed to be a cold-blooded killer in real life the peaceful community is rocked to its core.
It should have been an open-and-shut case: the suicide of Tye Horton, the designer of a cutting-edge video game. But Detective Jo Wyatt is immediately suspicious of Quinn Kirkwood, who reported the death. When Quinn reveals an internet stalker is terrorizing her, Jo is skeptical. Doubts aside, she delves into the claim and uncovers a link that ties Quinn to a small group of beta-testers who had worked with Horton. When a second member of the group dies in a car accident, Jo’s investigation leads her to the father of a young man who had killed himself a year earlier. But there’s more to this case than a suicide, and as Jo unearths the layers, a more sinister pattern begins to emerge–one driven by desperation, shame, and a single-minded drive for revenge.
As Jo closes in, she edges ever closer to the shattering truth–and a deadly showdown that will put her to the ultimate test.
Genre: Mystery (police procedural) Published by: Crooked Lane Books Publication Date: October 6th 2020 Number of Pages: 395 ISBN: 1643855352 (ISBN13: 9781643855356) Series: A Jo Wyatt Mystery, #1 Purchase Links:Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Penguin Random House | Goodreads
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My Book Review
RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars
SHADOW RIDGE (Jo Wyatt Mystery Book #1) by M.E. Browning is the first book in a new mystery/police procedural series featuring a female detective in a small Colorado town. I am a fan of the Mer Cavallo mystery series by this author written under the name of Micki Browning, so I was looking forward to reading this new book and I was not disappointed.
Detective Jo Wyatt is called to the scene of the apparent suicide of Tye Horton, a young and talented video game designer. Quinn Kirkwood called in the death when she went to pick up a joint project the two were working on. Jo is suspicious of the prickly young woman and she soon learns Quinn was one of a small group who beta tested a previous game for Tye.
Now, one by one the small group is either committing suicide or having lethal accidents until only Quinn is left. Jo’s investigation leads back to a suicide the previous year of the D.A.’s son. As the pieces come together the trail leads to a killer who is interested in their own twisted revenge.
I am a fan of this author’s writing. The mystery/crime is tightly plotted with a mix of perspectives and the characters are fully fleshed and realistic. Quinn’s perspective on the gaming community and Jo’s lack of computer savvy add not only plot points and interest, but a realism to all those not involved in that world. Jo not only has to deal with the case she is working on, but a messy personal life and sexual discrimination in her small police force. Jo’s complexity is what I am always looking for in a lead character and what keeps me coming back for more.
I highly recommend this book and I am looking forward to many more books in this series.
***
Excerpt
Chapter One
Detective Jo Wyatt stood at the edge of the doorway of the converted garage and scanned the scene for threats. She’d have the chance to absorb the details later, but even at a glance, it was obvious the occupant of the chair in front of the flickering television wouldn’t benefit from her first-aid training. The stains on the ceiling from the gun blast confirmed that.
Officer Cameron Finch stood on the other side of the sorry concrete slab that served as an entrance. “Ready?”
The only place hidden from view was the bathroom, and the chance of someone hiding there was infinitesimal, but someone always won the lottery. Today wasn’t the day to test the odds. Not when she was dressed for court and without her vest.
She pushed the door open wider. Her eyes and handgun moved in tandem as she swept the room.
A mattress on the floor served as a bed. Stacks of clothes took the place of a real closet. A dorm-sized fridge with a hot plate on top of it made up the kitchen.
Jo avoided the well-worn paths in the carpet and silently approached the bathroom. Its door stood slightly ajar, creating enough space for her to peer through the crack. Never lowering her gun, she used her foot to widen the gap.
No intruder. Just a water-spotted shower stall and a stained toilet with the seat up. A stick propped open the narrow ventilation window above the shower. Too small for even the tiniest child, but an open invitation to heat-seeking raccoons.
“Bathroom’s clear.” She holstered her gun. The cut of her wool blazer fell forward and did its best to hide the bulge of her Glock, but an observant person could tell she was armed. One of the drawbacks of having a waist.
She picked her way across the main room, staying close to the walls to avoid trampling any evidence. A flame licked the edges of the television screen—one of those mood DVDs of a fireplace but devoid of sound. It filled the space with an eerie flicker that did little to lighten the gathering dusk.
Sidestepping a cat bowl filled with water, she stopped in front of the body and pulled a set of latex gloves from her trouser pocket.
“Really?” Cameron asked.
Jo snapped them into place, then pressed two fingers against the victim’s neck in a futile search for a pulse—a completely unnecessary act that became an issue only if a defense attorney wanted to make an officer look like an idiot on the stand for not checking.
The dead man reclined in a high-backed gray chair that appeared to have built-in speakers. In the vee of his legs, a Remington 870 shotgun rested against his right thigh, the stock’s butt buried in the dirty shag carpet. On the far side, a toppled bottle of whiskey and a tumbler sat on a metal TV tray next to a long-stemmed pipe.
“Who called it in?” Jo asked.
“Quinn Kirkwood. I told her to stay in her car until we figured out what was going on.”
Jo retraced her steps to the threshold, seeking a respite from the stench of death.
A petite woman stood at the edge of the driveway, pointedly looking away from the door. “Is he okay?”
So much for staying in the car. “Let’s talk over here.” Not giving the other woman the opportunity to resist, Jo grabbed her elbow and guided her to the illuminated porch of the main house, where the overhang would protect them from the softly falling snow.
“He’s inside, isn’t he?” Quinn pulled the drawstring of her sweat shirt until the hood puckered around her neck. “He’s dead.” It should have been a question, but wasn’t. Jo’s radar pinged.
“I’m sorry.” Jo brushed errant flakes from a dilapidated wicker chair and moved it forward for her. “Is there someone I can call for you?”
She shook her head.
“How well did you know—”
“Tye. His name is—was—Tye Horton.” Quinn played with the tab of her hood string, picking at the plastic that kept the ends from fraying.
Jo remained quiet, digesting the younger woman’s unease. She was all angles: sharp shoulders, high cheekbones, blunt-cut dark hair, and canted eyes that looked blue in the open but faded to grey here in the shadows.
A pile of snow slid from a bowed cottonwood branch and landed with a dull plop. The silence broken, Quinn continued to fill it. “We have a couple classes together up at the college. He missed class. I came over to see why.”
“Does he often cut class?”
“He didn’t cut class,” she said sharply. “He missed it.” She pulled out her cellphone. “The project was due today. I should tell the others.”
What would she tell them? She hadn’t asked any questions. The pinging in Jo’s head grew louder. “Did you go inside before the officer got here?” She looked at the woman’s shoes. Converse high-tops. Distinctive tread.
Quinn launched out of her seat, sending it crashing into the porch rail. “I called you guys, remember?”
“It’s a simple yes or no.”
The smaller woman advanced and Jo fought the impulse to shove her back. “No, Officer—”
“Detective Wyatt.”
The top of Quinn’s head barely reached Jo’s chin. “Tye and I were classmates with a project due, Detective. I called him, he didn’t answer. I texted him, he didn’t respond. He didn’t show up for the game last night, which meant something was wrong. He never missed a game.”
Football. Last night Jo had pulled on her uniform and worked an overtime shift at the Sunday night game. Despite the plunging temperatures, the small college stadium had been filled to capacity.
“Did you check on him afterward?” Jo asked.
“No.” Color brightened Quinn’s pale cheeks. “By the time the game ended, it was too late. After he missed class today, I came straight over. Called the police. Here we are. Now, can I go?”
“Was Tye having any problems lately?”
“Problems?”
“With school? Friends?”
“I shared a class with him.”
Another dodge. “You knew he wasn’t at the game.”
“I figured he was finishing up his end of the project. Are we done? I’ve got class tonight.”
“I need to see your identification before you leave.”
“Un-fucking-believable.” Quinn jammed her hand into her jacket pocket and removed an old-fashioned leather coin purse. Pinching the top, she drew out her driver’s license and practically threw it at Jo.
“I’m sure you understand. Whenever there is a death, we have to treat it as a crime until we determine otherwise.”
The air left Quinn in a huff of frost. “I’m sorry. I’m just…” She dipped her face but not before Jo saw the glint of tears. “I’m just going to miss him. He was nice. I don’t have a lot of friends in Echo Valley.”
“Were the two of you dating?”
The sharpness returned to her features. “Not my type.”
“Do you know if he was in a relationship?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Would you know?”
Cameron joined the women on the porch and extended his hand to Quinn. “I’m Sergeant Finch.”
Jo sucked in her breath, and covered it with a cough. The promotional memo hadn’t been posted even a day yet.
“I’m sorry about your friend,” Cameron added.
Quinn crossed her arms, whether for warmth or for comfort, Jo couldn’t tell. “Your badge says Officer. Aren’t sergeants supposed to have stripes or something?”
“It’s official next week.”
“So. Really just an officer.”
Jo bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. Served him right for acting like an ass.
“I wouldn’t say just.” Cameron hooked his thumb in his gun belt.
“Of course you wouldn’t.” Quinn drew a deep breath and let it out as if she feared it might be her last. “What happened?” she finally asked.
Jo spoke before Cameron could answer. “That’s what we’re here to find out.” She opened her notebook.
Quinn sized up the two officers like a child trying to decide which parent to ask, and settled on Cameron. “Will you get me the laptop that’s inside? It’s got our school project on it.”
“I’m sorry,” Jo answered. “But until we process the scene, everything needs to stay put.”
Quinn sought confirmation from Cameron. “Really?”
Jo shot him a look she hoped conveyed the slow torturous death he’d suffer if he contradicted her and compromised the scene.
Cameron placed his hand on Quinn’s forearm. “I’m certain it won’t take long and I’ll personally deliver it to you as soon as I can.”
“Thanks.” She shook off his hand and addressed Jo. “Am I free to go?”
Prickly thing. Jo handed Quinn’s license back to her. “I’m truly sorry about your friend. May I call you later if I have any questions?”
Cameron stepped closer, all earnestness and concern. “It would be very helpful to the investigation when she realizes she forgot to ask you something.”
The coin purse snapped shut. “Sure. Whatever.”
“Thank you,” Jo said, then added, “Be careful.”
Quinn jerked. “What?”
The wind had picked up, and waves of snow blew across the walkway. Jo pointed toward the street. “The temperature drops any lower and it’ll start to ice up. Be careful. The roads are going to be slick.”
Quinn bobbed her head. Hunched against the cold, she climbed into her bright yellow Mini Cooper.
Snow had collected on the bumper and Jo noted the plate. She’d seen the car around town, its brilliant color and tiny chassis a contrast to the trucks and four-wheel-drive SUVs most locals drove.
The car crunched down the driveway. Jo returned to the task at hand, ignoring Cameron as he followed her.
Two buildings—the main residence and the converted garage—stood at the center of the property. The driveway dumped out onto an alley and the hum of downtown carried across the crisp air. Dogs barked. Cars slowed and accelerated at the nearby stop sign, their engines straining and tires chewing into the slushed snow. A sagging chain-link fence ringed the property, pushed and pulled by a scraggly hedge.
Built in the days when a garage housed only a car and not the detritus of life, the building was barely larger than a tack room. A small walkway separated the dwellings. She followed the path around the exterior of the garage.
Eaves kept snow off the paint-glued windowsill on the far side of the outbuilding. Rambling rosebushes in need of pruning stretched skeletal fingers along the wall. Jo swept the bony branches aside. A thorn snagged the shoulder of her blazer.
She studied the ground. Snow both helped and hindered officers. In foot pursuits, it revealed a suspect’s path. But the more time separated an incident from its investigation, the more it hid tracks. Destroyed clues. This latest snow had started in the early hours of the morning, gently erasing the valley’s grime and secrets and creating a clean slate. Tye could have been dead for hours. The snow told her nothing.
As she stood again at the door, not even the cold at her back could erase the smell of blood. The last of the evening’s light battled its way through the dirty window, failing to brighten the dark scene in front of her.
She tried not to let the body distract her from cataloging the room. Echo Valley didn’t have violent deaths often. In her twelve years on the department, she’d investigated only two homicides, one as an officer, the second as a detective. Fatal crashes, hunting accidents, Darwin Award-worthy stupidity, sure, but murder? That was the leap year of crimes and only happened once every four years or so.
Cameron joined her on the threshold and they stood shoulder to shoulder. He had a shock of thick brown hair that begged to be touched, and eyes that said he’d let you. “Why so quiet, Jo-elle?”
The use of her nickname surprised her. Only two people had ever called her that and Cameron hadn’t used it in a long time. “I don’t want to miss anything.”
“What’s to miss? Guy blew his brains out.”
“It’s rarely that simple.”
“Not everything needs to be complicated.” He laughed. The boyishness of it had always charmed her with its enthusiasm. Now it simply sounded dismissive. Perhaps it always had been, but she’d been too in love to notice. “Hey, you got plans tonight?” He tried to sound innocent. She had learned that voice.
“Other than this? I don’t see as that’s any of your business.”
“Of course it’s my business. You’re still my wife.” He stared into the distance as he said it. A splinter of sun pierced the dark clouds and bled across his unguarded expression.
Yearning.
Jo stood as if on ice, afraid to move lest she lose her balance.
He seemed to wake up, and after a deep breath, he surveyed the room. “The landlord is going to be looking for a new tenant. You should give him your name. It’s got to be better than living with your old man.”
Fissures formed beneath her and it took her two blinks before she recovered her footing.
“I need to get my camera. I’ll be right back.”
She left him at the door. The December chill wormed through her wool dress slacks as she trudged the half block to her car. She drew breath after breath of the searing chill deep into her lungs to replace the hurt, the anger, the self-recriminations that burned her. She sat in the passenger seat and picked up the radio mic. She wasn’t ready to face Cameron. Not yet.
To buy herself some time, she ran a local warrant check on Quinn. Something wasn’t quite right about the woman. A warrant might explain things.
Dispatch confirmed Quinn’s address, but had nothing to add.
Jo grabbed her camera bag and crime scene kit and schlepped back to the scene, prioritizing her actions as she went. She’d need to snag another detective. Interrupt a judge’s dinner to get a search warrant. Swab the victim’s hands for gunshot residue. Try to confirm his identification. Hopefully, the person in the front house would return soon so Jo could start collecting background on the deceased. Take overview photos of the exterior first. Inside there’d be lights. Then evidence. Identify it. Bag it. Book it.
She reached the door before she ticked through all the tasks. Cameron was circling the chair.
Jo stopped on the threshold, stunned.
“No wonder they didn’t promote you.” Cameron peered into the exposed cranium. “If you can’t tell this is a suicide, you got no business being a cop—let alone a detective.”
“Get out.”
“We’re not home, sweetie. You can’t order me out here.”
“Actually, I can. Detective, remember? This is my scene and you’re contaminating it.”
He laughed. “Sergeant outranks detective.”
“I think it’s already been established that you’re not sporting stripes.”
“Yet. Couple more days.”
Three. Three days until he started wearing the stripes that should have been hers. Three days until he outranked her. Three. Damn. Days. “And until then, Officer Finch.” With exaggerated care, she took out her notebook and started writing.
“What are you doing?”
“Making a note of the path you’ve taken. Try to retrace your steps. I’d hate to have to say how badly you mucked things up.” She paused for effect. “You getting promoted and all.”
“You’re such a bitch.”
“Is that how you talk to your wife?”
He picked up the overturned bottle on the TV tray. “Johnnie Walker Gold.” He sniffed the premium Scotch whisky. “And here I would have pegged him for a Jack fan, at best.” Cameron tipped the bottle back into place and retraced his steps.
The latex gloves did nothing to warm her fingers, and Jo shoved her hands in her pockets. Had he changed or had she? “When did you become such an ass?”
“When’d we get married?” He shouldered past her, swinging his keys around his finger. Outside, the streetlamps flickered to life. “I’ll leave you to it. Even you can see it’s a slam dunk.”
She didn’t want to agree with him. “It’s only a suicide when the coroner says so.”
“Oh, Jo-elle.”
There was that laugh again, and she hated herself for warming to him.
“You’ve got to learn to choose your battles.”
***
Excerpt from Shadow Ridge by M.E. Browning. Copyright 2020 by M.E. Browning. Reproduced with permission from M.E. Browning. All rights reserved.
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Author Bio
M.E. BROWNING served twenty-two years in law enforcement and retired as a captain before turning to a life of crime fiction. Writing as Micki Browning, she penned the Agatha-nominated and award-winning Mer Cavallo mysteries, and her short stories and nonfiction have appeared in anthologies, mystery and diving magazines, and textbooks. As M.E. Browning, she recently began a new series of Jo Wyatt mysteries with Shadow Ridge (October 2020).
Micki is a member of Mystery Writers of America, International Thriller Writers, and Sisters in Crime—where she served as a former president of the Guppy Chapter. A professional divemaster, she resides in Florida with her partner in crime and a vast array of scuba equipment she uses for “research.”
