by Claire Kane
“Long story short, Jack’s deal was the usual contract—wealth, power and fame in return for his soul, and as many souls as he could bring along with him. He was prodded into the modeling business, and railroaded to the top of the food chain at Trend. Turns out, it was the perfect way to fulfill his side of the bargain.
“See, he started coming in contact with an awful lot of women. Some of them… had insecurities, and he played on those. Started recruiting college girls to come work for him, and then bought them with scholarships, parties, easy drugs, and fast times. Once they were sufficiently drugged up, he’d edge them into prostitution.”
“Like Jessica,” Lacey said, nodding.
Victor’s face fell, and Lacey saw an inscrutable sorrow in his eyes. “Yeah. Like that.”
He looked away again. “Well, Jessica… decided she didn’t want to live that life anymore. I could tell that her pending motherhood got her thinking differently about life, and she ran for it. She was set to tell the cops.
“Jack got her first.”
Lacey winced, remembering her dream all too vividly. “And my vision of her death? Of Nainai?”
Victor shrugged. “Apparently the connection we forged, just after I died, has opened you to the occasional vision of the future. As for the dream about Nainai, I would say that was simply a terrible nightmare. You’ve been worried about her a lot lately. ”
Lacey mulled that thought for a while. “Yes. Hmm. And you? Were you…”
“Was I able to get back? Yeah. Not long before I found Shayla. Time doesn’t work the same on the Other Side as it does here. If you’d been a spirit as well, hanging out with me, you’d know I was gone for a long time.”
She held out her hands, pleading. “Doing what?”
He sighed heavily, then winked at her. “Yeah, I can still do that even if I don’t need to breathe. It’s good for expressing emotions, even after mortality ends.” She smiled a little, too. He sobered again. “I was… healing, for lack of a better word. I’m not going to tell you what I saw and felt in Geo’s office, but let’s just say it was… bad. So bad that I ended up being sucked into it and getting lost; it was just so… infuriating to see it, that between the anger and my shock, I couldn’t think clearly enough to pull myself out. After that, the demons had their way with me, and they’re none too kind to angels of light who fall into their hands. I was so tainted afterwards that I couldn’t talk to Heaven at all; my mind was so… so fouled up with anger over that… stuff… I experienced that there was no way I could feel what they were trying to say, including answers to my calls, even though they could hear me just fine.
“They sent Rao right away, and she had to walk me through… a process to get me back on track and out of that black hole I was in.” He shuddered visibly. “I almost relapsed into fury when Rao showed me where Shayla was, finally, and when Geo walked in, I did actually make myself scarce; there was no way I wanted a repeat of that night.”
Lacey wanted to hug him but knew he could see it in her face, and without speaking, they both knew it was enough. “What-what happened to me, that night in Geo’s house?”
Victor grimaced. “Jack’s devil got a hold of you for a minute. I nearly panicked when he did, but you were just so angry that after I wrestled him out of Jack, it was able to grab you without much of a fight. In fact, Jack had already been manipulating you even before you started working for him.”
Lacey frowned deeply. “But I didn’t even know him until—”
“Until he bought you dinner. But he arranged that, too. Even the Dark Ones have a bit of foresight. Not a lot, but they make excellent use of it. Jack—the man—was looking for a woman like you to be on the ‘good’ side of his double life. He’d had his eye on you for a while, and I can’t blame him. He even went so far, I learned, as to mess with your job search in order to keep you desperate. Then, when the time was ripe, he made you an offer he thought you couldn’t refuse.”
Lacey sat back in her chair and smacked her forehead at the realization. “So me making a fool of myself at B and B wasn’t really my fault.”
Victor smiled sheepishly. “Well, if you’re honest with yourself, you do have a bit of a silly streak. You really must have noticed it, since you found me occasionally hilarious.”
Lacey rolled her eyes.
“But seriously, he muddled your mind and led you into that natural, easy humor you do when you’re unguarded, and... you actually gave a very clever answer.”
“More like an embarrassingly stupid answer,” she muttered.
“Hey, I laughed when I saw the replay.”
Lacey cocked an eyebrow.
“Heaven… keeps records. We’ll leave it there for now. The bottom line is, you were set up. A lot of guys like him like to lead double lives for a facade, some false sense of normalcy—who knows—but in the end, he only would have dragged you down to endless misery with him. I was sent to stop that, but nearly lost you anyway.”
Lacey sent a mental hug again. “I’m just so happy you came back,” she said softly. “Both times.”
They went silent again and, after a minute, Lacey got up, took some red Jell-O out of the fridge, and then grabbed some instant-made mash potatoes off a counter. She set them both on the table, and with hands on hips, smiled with a sigh.
“Is dinner ready yet?” Nainai asked with childlike eagerness.
“Yes, it is, Nainai.” Lacey wiped her hands on a paper towel, and went to wheel her grandmother into the kitchen, Victor still sitting at the table.
The wheels squeaked across the shag carpet to an opening at the table where no chair sat. “Smells delicious!” Nainai clapped.
Lacey was happy to at least provide a meal Nainai’d love. She gently tucked her against the table, and took her own seat. Nainai was made up so cute for the festivities, her white hair up in a bun, pink rouge across her cheeks, like she’d asked.
She was like a sweet doll. She deserved the best of things, Lacey thought. That pang in her heart entered once again over the thought of having no present to open. But suddenly, Nainai burst with joy, her dark eyes lighting up, “You got me a gift!”
Lacey’s brow furrowed. She shared a confused glance with Victor.
“A beautiful angel…” Nainai nearly whispered in reverence.
Lacey picked up the little dollar-store statue in her hands, now remembering the story of how her grandfather always gave his wife an angel. With its porcelain wings and pretty golden hair, she guessed it didn’t look half bad. Maybe it could have even passed for being worth five bucks. But when she went to hand it to Nainai, her eyes were clearly fixed straight ahead… at none other than Victor St. John himself.
The end.
(Read on for more info about this series, and a link to the third book, Blackjack Magic Murder.)
SPECIAL NOTE FROM THE AUTHORS
DEAR READER:
So you’ve come to the end of A Model Murder. We hope you enjoyed reading it as much as we did writing it. If you did have fun, we’d be delighted to receive your review on Amazon. Reviews help us gain advertisements, which helps with exposure, so we can continue writing mysteries.
Warm Regards,
Claire Kane
ABOUT THE AUTHORS:
Claire Kane is an avid reader and writer, who enjoys going on zany adventures with her eccentric mother. She loves classic fashion statements, a good root beer float, and always eats with her mouth closed. And she of course has a weak spot for murder mysteries.
An engineer by day, a writer by night, Stan Crowe has lived more places than he ever imagined he would, and has more children than most imagine they ever will. Author of the collection, “A Comedy of Love,” Stan wrote his first book at age five. Of late, Stan and his family have taken to waking up to Arizona sunrises.
Sign up for my monthly newsletter HERE.
Website: zoeyandclaire.blogspot.com
Publisher’s website: breezyreads.com
Facebook: fb.me/zoeyandclaire
<
br /> Twitter: @Zoey_Claire
EMAIL: [email protected]
Order the Kindle copy by visiting its Amazon page HERE.
Blackjack Magic Murder (The Dead Ex Files – Book 3)
SAMPLE CHAPTERS
ONE
Lacey stood in the room, wishing for light, her pistol still smoking in her hand. On the floor lay the cooling corpse of a middle-aged man. A pool of blood grew around him, and Lacey felt sick. She dropped to her knees, staring at what she had just done.
“Lacey,” a man said behind her. Distantly, she recognized the voice of Victor St. John, her once-boyfriend turned partner in crime fighting while solving his own untimely murder. “Lacey are you al—” He stopped short, and from the corner of her eyes, she saw him gaping at the dead man. After a long moment, he turned to her, eyes shining with concern.
“Lacey,” he said gently, placing his immaterial hands on her shoulders, a comforting gesture even if she couldn’t feel it, “it’ll be best to turn yourself in. Just tell the cops the truth I can already see in your mind. Trust me,” he said, leaning forward, “it’ll be better this way.”
A second later, a door she hadn’t even been aware of was kicked open, and a pair of police officers rushed in, weapons drawn. “Metro PD! Hands where we can see ‘em!” Lacey slowly raised her hands, and quietly began to cry.
It was the first time she’d ever killed another human being.
Three Days Earlier
The trip to the mall had been invigorating. A great distraction from the doldrums Lacey had been in for nearly two months. If she had the means, she’d opt for an exciting vacation, far from Seattle. Somewhere with superb entertainment, sight-seeing and food. Since she still lived in a rundown apartment, even after solving two murder cases, those fantasies would have to be written on a sticky note in the back of her mind.
Pushing her grandmother’s wheelchair on the way out of the entrance, with just one small shopping bag hanging around an elbow, Lacey checked her Apple watch. Nervousness creased her brow even though she’d planned the timing of their outing perfectly. He wouldn’t be there for at least another twenty minutes. Her almond-shaped brown eyes narrowed, peering past the parking lot, at the streets in the distance. Yep, not in sight.
Lacey turned the wheelchair right, and with a comfortable stroll she sipped her frothy latte. Nainai smiled at the puffy white cloud formations as they went, her wrinkled hands lightly clasped on her lap’s blanket. The sound of air brakes in the distance was like an alarm waking Lacey into a harried scramble.
A red semi truck had stopped at a light with a soft screech. Yes, there he was. Earlier than she’d been told to find him. She couldn’t make out the man’s features from that far away, but this was his route and so it’d definitely be him. She should’ve known delivery drivers could be early; it all depended on how smoothly their last stops went.
Lacey pitched her coffee into a sidewalk trash can with a small splash and took off at jog, pushing Nainai. The light breeze of Seattle’s February air chilled her cheeks as she went. Her eyes shifted between the street and the sidewalk ahead of her. Cars were soon moving ahead or turning into the lot. The semi was also about to turn into Northgate Mall’s parking lot. Jogging wasn’t going to cut it. Lacey gave a full-on sprint, her black high heels evidently being a mistake, as they pinched her toes. Mental note: Buy cute sneakers for instances like this.
Having increasing dementia, Nainai was none the wiser of being taken off course. She wouldn’t have remembered where Lacey’s black Lincoln MKZ was parked. Her forgetful, and sometimes childlike, state of mind obviously believed her granddaughter was just being goofy, by offering a fun, fast ride down the sidewalk. Nainai put her arms up as high as they’d go, and gave a squeal of delight… even over the cracks that jostled her old bones.
Weaving Nainai between the oncoming shoppers was quite the challenge, but Lacey did so gracefully. One couple, holding hands, made her extra nervous. She clenched her teeth, considering stopping to a screeching halt. Doing so might shoot her grandmother out of her seat. “Excuse me!” Lacey called. In surprise, they lifted their arms straight up like railroad crossing gates. Lacey sped through them in relief.
A woman in business attire was her next obstacle. She was distractedly eying her phone, stopped dead center in the sidewalk. It would be a narrow squeeze to get past her. Lacey took a deep breath, and veered so that the right tire wheeled through barked landscaping. She whizzed past the woman. Lacey shot a glance over her shoulder. That earned a surprised glare, and she knew why; the left wheel had come this close to leaving a black tire mark across a pair of shiny Oxfords.
Lacey took a deep breath, still running. They’d made it past all impending obstacles. The only thing left to do was ignore a hefty mother in the parking lot, who gave a drop-jawed, angry expression. “Slow down!” the woman barked.
“Make me!” Lacey blurted loudly back, surprising herself. Yes, it was juvenile, but in this case she didn’t care. In fact, she smiled. As long as her dear geriatric passenger was indeed having a ball—and she was—that’s all that mattered. Lacey had to cut into the department stores’ alley ASAP, or she’d be a failure. And being a perfectionist, Lacey did not take kindly to failure.
The semi was now heading down a lane between the Sears and Macy’s parking lots.
“What are we doing over here?” Nainai asked as she was being wheeled toward the alley. “Are you lost?”
“No. This will be a quick detour,” Lacey said, stopping. She hadn’t dressed in black, since it wasn’t nighttime. Surely, she’d be wrapping her long dark tresses and her grandmother’s wispy white ones in black scarves if it was after hours. If the man she was stalking caught sight of them, now, it’d look innocent enough: Daylight. Old lady in wheelchair. Young, Asian woman, dressed well. What wasn’t to trust? Discreetly taking pictures of him would be the real tough part.
Lacey peered down the alley at a warehouse, where a couple of men worked at tearing down pallets. She anxiously touched her camera hung around her neck in wait. The semi driver in a red baseball cap soon arrived. He maneuvered backing up his 48-foot trailer into the alley. First violation—hazard lights not turned on. She snapped a picture.
“What are we doing?” Nainai complained. “I was having so much fun.”
Keeping her eyes coolly fixed on the driver, Lacey replied, “I’m following a guy, so be very quiet.” He hopped out of his cab and shut the door. Just as he was described: mid-forties, fit, no facial hair. Delivery drivers tended to be in better shape than haulers, and apparently cuter.
Nainai’s wrinkled face scrunched up in disapproval. “Is this what you’ve resorted to?”
“What?” Lacey lifted her camera and adjusted the lens to get a clear view of the cab. Upon him exiting, she spotted the sneakers. Second violation—no work boots. She snapped another picture.
“Your ex-boyfriend died, and so now you feel the need to stalk men for dates?”
Lacey was too distracted to hear the comment. The driver swung a glance in their direction, but wasn’t disturbed. He proceeded to the back of the truck. Feeling bold, Lacey rolled her grandmother down deeper into the alley, toward the back-end of the trailer. She needed to get a couple more shots. Hearing the metal ping of the driver unlatching the back doors’ lock, she parked the wheelchair and stealthily stepped further.
She peeked around the trailer from a comfortable distance. The workers in the warehouse exchanged greetings with the driver. She stepped a smidge closer, keeping her camera down, hidden in the folds of her yellow scarf. Her target disappeared deep inside the trailer. When he reappeared with a dolly of several boxes, it was time for her another shot. Third violation, no cones. Once parked, every driver was supposed to place little orange cones around their truck. She snapped the picture.
The man’s eyes unexpectedly fixed on her across the way. He set down the dolly at the edge of the trailer. “Hey!” he called, angry. “What’re you doin’?”
> Lacey stuffed the camera back into her scarf and strode over to Nainai. She pushed her wheelchair without looking back, and hurried to round the corner back to Macy’s. Maybe he’d just forget about it.
Nope.
Soon came the sound of those sneakers she’d photographed—chasing after her, Her heartbeat quickened and she started to jog.
Nainai put her hands up again in exhilaration. “Whee!”
“Coporate send you?” he called out.
Thoughts raced through Lacey’s mind. Should she full-on run again? Ask for mall security? Turn around and speak what little Chinese she actually learned from her mom’s side of the family? Make him think she was the stereotypical Asian tourist, taking pictures of everything American in awe? She didn’t know how crazy this guy could be. There were plenty of witnesses around, however. And if worse came to worst, she did own a gun. Too bad it was in her end-table’s drawer at home. Lacey slowed her grandmother to a stop and turned around. “Hello,” she said with a smile that she hoped looked innocent.
The driver was now right before her. He wasn’t nearly as good-looking as she’d thought. No, he was the kind of man who looked better from a distance. “Why’re you taking pictures of me?” he demanded, his teeth stained brown in between. Even in such a moment as this, Lacey couldn’t help but think he needed to learn to floss.
“I, uh,” Lacey stammered. “Well…” This was not the highlight of her investigatory experiences. Why couldn’t she think up an explanation?
The man widened his eyes, waiting in frustration.
Nainai blurted, “She has a crush on you and wants a date. I know it’s pathetic, how she followed you, and took pictures, but she really is a lovely young woman. And she knows how to cook!” A knobby finger went up in emphasis.
