“It still doesn’t seem clear why he killed a woman he didn’t know,” Sandy said.
“But it mattered to Sylvia.” I put down my wine glass. “From what Hendricks said, Sylvia could be pretty persuasive. The bad boys weren’t the savviest bunch either. Toss in the free drugs, they were easy marks for Sylvia.”
“The others?” Sandy said.
“All of them were in on it,” I said. “The threats, everything. Pretty gullible. Give them a free tattoo, it’s like a club.”
“I still don’t see … I have a hard time with Sylvia,” Lenny said. “I know she blamed me. But that was a long time ago.”
“She wanted revenge, Lenny,” Sandy said. “She figured you were responsible for her husband’s death. If he hadn’t gone to prison …”
“I understand that,” Lenny said. “But why wait all these years? We only lived fifty miles apart. Why now?”
“Your book, Lenny,” I said. “Corruption on Trial brought the anger and hate home, to her backyard. The book got publicity where she lived. She never forgot, never let it go. Her hate lived just below the surface. Then, one day, there you were with the book.”
“A lot of hate to keep bottled up,” Sandy said.
“I worry sometimes,” Lenny said. “Is hate intrinsically evil? Is hate always evil?”
“No answer for that one,” I said.
“It lured in those boys,” AJ said. “Or maybe it was just Sylvia who did that.”
“That’s not much of a choice, if you ask me,” Sandy said.
“No, it’s not,” AJ said, shaking her head.
“We worried about all the wrong things,” Lenny said. “It wasn’t about the documents after all. Sylvia never knew about them. It was all about revenge, about getting even. In Sylvia’s mind, even killing Kate was getting at Lenny.”
“Do you think the sons really didn’t know what drug mama was up to?” Sandy said.
“I don’t know,” I said. “But Hendricks’ll find out.”
“All right, that’s enough,” Sandy said, finishing her wine. “Time to go home.”
“If I hustle,” Henri said, “I can catch the last ferry to the island. See how the new roof is coming along.”
“I’m out of here, too,” Lenny said.
We said our good-byes, and AJ and I remained at the table.
“You look tired,” she said, putting her hand on mine.
“Weary, worn out, I guess. How about you?”
AJ thought for a moment. “We’ve had a lot going on.”
“Yes.”
“Not just with Lenny,” AJ said. “You know what I mean?”
“Uh-huh, I do.”
“We have some work to do, Michael. Maybe more me …some things to figure out. You know?”
I nodded.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Most important, I thank the authors in my writing group, Marietta Hamady, Winnie Simpson, and Aaron Stander. Our discussions and their detailed critiques helped make my writing clearer and the mystery more exciting. I treasure their friendship and support. I missed, however, the easy camaraderie of our sessions together during the year of the pandemic when Zoom took over. While we would have preferred to be together, we remained healthy, safe, engaged in our writing.
Several other folks also willingly made Michael Russo’s latest adventure a better read. I’m grateful for their time and energy. They include Frances Barger, Mary Jane Barnwell, John Mulvaney, Tanya Hartman, Mary Beauchamp, Fuller Cowell, Jeri-Lynn Bailey, Leigh Ann Klay, Justin Dempsey, and Joe Sandri.
Heather Shaw and Scott Couturier edited the manuscript and took it apart over and over again. Plot, characters and dialog. I look forward to their evaluations because they make the manuscript better. Because of Heather and Scott, I’ve learned new things about my characters and the situations I’ve created for them. Hart Cauchy proofread the manuscript, and made me look much sharper than I really am. I’ve also learned new things about myself as a writer. I appreciate their encouragement and support.
Since this is a story about a reporter, I envisioned the cover as a homage to gangster films (think, Little Caesar or The Godfather) that used a montage of newspaper headlines to convey gang warfare. I tossed some of that at Heather. Create a cover, I said. She did. Wow.
As I’ve said before, I made stuff up, all of it. The characters, events, and plot twists. Just like the earlier Russo adventures, I invented everything at the kitchen table with coffee, by the fireplace with a nice single malt, or on a relaxing run on the trails on Mackinac Island.
Peter Marabell grew up in Metro Detroit, spending as much time as he could street racing on Woodward Avenue in the late 1950s and visiting the Straits of Mackinac. With a Ph.D. in History and Politics, Peter spent most of his professional career at Michigan State University. He is the author of the historical monograph, Frederick Libby and the American Peace Movement, soon to be published by Kendall Sheepman Company. His first novel, More Than a Body, was published in 2013. The first of the Michael Russo mystery series, Murder at Cherokee Point (2014) was followed by Murder on Lake Street (2015), Devils Are Here (2016), Death Lease (2018), and The Final Act of Conrad North (2019). As a freelance writer, he worked in several professional fields including health care, politics, and the arts. In 2002, Peter moved permanently to northern Michigan with his spouse and business partner, Frances Barger, to live, write, and work at their Mackinac Island business. All things considered (Peter still says), he would rather indulge in American politics, or Spartan basketball, after a satisfying five-mile run on the hills of Mackinac Island. Find out more about the author at www.petermarabell.com.
Copyright © 2021 by George Peter Marabell
All world rights reserved.
Kendall Sheepman Company, Cheboygan, MI
ISBN: 978-0-9903104-7-1
Printed in the United States of America
OTHER BOOKS BY PETER MARABELL
MICHAEL RUSSO MYSTERIES
Murder at Cherokee Point
Murder on Lake Street
Devils Are Here
Death Lease
The Final Act of Conrad North
also
Frederick Libby and the American Peace Movement
More Than a Body
Deadline for Lenny Stern Page 23
