Pretty Blue Death , livre ebook

Outskirts Press - Dan Blair

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151 pages

English

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Description

Mark and Daly Ford are living the good life in the San Fernando Valley of southern California. Busy building their security company, they are shocked when a long-time friend drowns unexpectedly in his pool, shaking their world. With no foul play or reason for the drowning indicated, they, along with their neighborhood poker group, are baffled. Just as the alarm of losing a good friend begins to subside, another friend from their group dies of a massive heart attack while working at a food bank. Both deaths appear to be innocent enough, but Daly's instincts from her years with the L.A.P.D.'s Behavioral Analysis Unit cause her to question if the deaths could be linked. But what is the common thread explaining the murders, if that's what they are?Mark and Daly thrust themselves into investigating if their friends' deaths could be more than coincidence ... and perhaps a deadly vendetta being carried out against their close-knit group. Worse yet, could the person behind these deaths be someone from within their group of friends? Mark and Daly plunge headlong into solving the mystery, joining forces with an eccentric scientist friend from their poker group with strong analytical skills. As bodies continue to pile up, they're joined by a police detective from Scotland Yard, Sean McClarey, on loan to Santa Monica PD. Still mourning the loss of his wife during childbirth, Sergeant McClarey throws himself into the case, bringing his respectful yet penetrating style to his interrogations. Will this band of friends be able to unravel the twisted intentions driving the serial killings in time? How many of their friends may die while they're piecing the puzzle together? Will Mark and Daly be next on the killer's list? Enjoy the twists and turns of this non-stop thriller leading to a surprising climax, punctuated by a psychopath's obsessions from the loss of family members under tragic circumstances. But is someone else in the shadows behind the poker group's rapidly dwindling numbers? All is not what it seems to be as these colleagues pursue what's behind their friends' demise and bringing the killer, or killers, to justice.

Sujets

Thrillers

Suspense

Fiction

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Publié par	Outskirts Press
Date de parution	16 août 2017
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781432784430
Langue	English

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Extrait

Pretty Blue Death
All Rights Reserved.
Copyright © 2017 Dan Blair
v4.0

This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.

This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Outskirts Press, Inc.
http://www.outskirtspress.com

ISBN: 978-1-4327-8443-0

Cover Photo © 2017 www.thinkstock.com All rights reserved - used with permission.

Outskirts Press and the “OP” logo are trademarks belonging to Outskirts Press, Inc.

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
Acknowledgments

Dedicated to my late mother, Mary Alice Blair; a real inspiration to me for this project. Little did I know as a child my mother was typing away in our upstairs spare room for years to make a little extra cash for family extras, selling short stories and poems to kid’s magazines. Her unpublished novel and short stories were great reads and made me want to follow in her footsteps. Thanks mom.
My heartfelt thanks to my wife, Ronda, for her meticulous edits and putting up with my obsession, specifically, writing this book versus my many others.
Thanks to my tennis partner and fellow storyteller, Jim Bangel, for helping with his Vietnam anecdotes and the ending, and also to his better half, Louise, for editing help and encouragement.
Thanks to Mike Tafuri for his helpful suggestions.
Editing thanks to my daughters, Dana and Kelly; very appreciated even if the laughing at my misspellings was a bit over done.
A special thanks to my aunt Wilma Kentner who’s input, edits and relentless encouragement to finish the book was a guiding motivation.
To all my friends who may see a part of themselves or at least a familiar name or two somewhere in my musings, it’s merely coincidental I assure you. All of you are much more interesting and fun than any of my rogue’s gallery of characters.
I hope you enjoy the ride with the Fords; top down and the wind in your hair!

The Poker Group
Mark & Daly Ford – The central couple living in San Fernando Valley and owning a security systems company in Santa Monica.

Mike & Dianne Gentry – Mike is a foods company executive and Dianne is a realtor.

Tommy & Pat Hemmings – Tommy is a foods company executive, and Pat is a teacher.

Jim & Louise Jensen –Jim is a food scientist and Louise is a gastroenterologist.

Chuck & Linda Kohler – Chuck is a retired nutritional aids company executive, and Linda is a zoo volunteer.

Ron and Janice Richmond – Ron is a retail grocery chain executive and Jan is a teen psychologist.

Michael & Mary Simon – Now divorced, Michael is a think tank consultant and Mary owns an import-export food specialty business.
Prologue
Her pearlescent blue eyes looked down at the pool’s clear water. The flower petals rippled in the gentle waves dissipating from the earlier struggle.
A sense of peace and satisfaction settled over her.
The body of Tommy Hemmings was face down, half-floating at the surface. He would soon sink to the bottom as the air from his lungs was displaced by the chlorinated water; settling under his liquid blanket.
She knew what the coroner would find: asphyxiation by drowning. Her blue wild flowers, aconite, had done their job effectively. The residual neurotoxins would never be found in the typical autopsy of a drowning.
It was her mother’s birthday, April third. It was hard for her to believe her mother had been gone for twenty-six years. She had waited far too long to assuage her pain, her loss. But 2014 was a good year to begin the healing.
What a nice present for mother.
She regretted she couldn’t linger and watch Tommy sink to the depths of his pool, but she needed to move on. Mrs. Hemmings might happen onto the scene or some unsuspecting neighbor out for an early morning run could stop in for a coffee.
She approached the flowerbed at the edge of the pool’s landscaping. Picking a few petals from the red carnations, white roses and blue violets, she then returned to the pool’s edge. These little beauties provided just what she was looking for. She scattered them among the aconite already there; just enough to appear a gust had transported the flowers’ remains to the pool. Not so much to garner suspicion. The petals floated to the water below.
Satisfied with the random appearance of the potpourri near Tommy’s body, she exited across the concrete patio to a side-entry gate. Unlatching it, she stepped onto the path leading to the street and her waiting car parked around the corner.
About a half block away, she heard a distant scream coming from where she’d been.
The edges of her mouth turned up in a cold half smile. “There, there Mrs. Hemmings. He really wasn’t much of a prize.”
Part I

“…how does your garden grow?”
Chapter One
M ark burst through the garage door into the foyer out of breath. “Wow. Great run,” he huffed.
His wife, Daly, sat at the kitchen counter. Her cup of coffee in hand, newspaper on the counter, she was intently scrutinizing a crossword puzzle. Taking in Daly’s dark brown hair and delicate facial features over full lips always surprised Mark a bit. She’d done nothing as far as make-up or primping, yet looked put together in every way. Only five foot four, she was proportioned nicely with an athletic build. Her form-fitting sweats indicated her anticipation of a work out a bit later. Mark’s eyes lingered on her curvaceous parts with an impish smile. Leaning on their kitchen island, he continued to pant.
“That’s nice,” she said looking up briefly at his red face and sweat-soaked t-shirt. “Are you going to make it?” she asked returning her attention to the puzzle.
Mark’s T-shirt was soaked in a large V down the front of his six foot two frame. His sweat pants were equally wet with a V leading to his butt crack. Short brown hair lay in dripping ringlets on his forehead. Above his red face, a dimpled chin and hazel eyes made for a handsome man. Not male model worthy, just manly and out of breath.
“Maybe. At least I’ll die with a healthy glow,” he replied moving to her side of the island. Looking over her shoulder, he asked “Anything I can help you with while I’m a little nasty? You know, there are many forms of exercise we could do together if the spirit moved us.” As his hands made their way around her waist with hopes of higher ground, the phone rang.
“Great,” he said disappointedly, abandoning his amorous notions to see who felt compelled to interrupt the great morning he was having.
“Hello, Ford residence,” he answered using a mock receptionist’s voice as he mugged stupid faces at Daly. She watched him out of the corner of her eye in mild amusement.
His face turned serious as he listened. “What?...No…How long ago?” He began to pace with his brow furrowed, listening intently to the caller. “All right. I’ll be over as quick as I can,” he said as he hung up the phone and turned to Daly.
He met her questioning eyes, “That was Mike. He said he just got a call from Tommy’s wife, Pat. She found Tommy in their pool just a few hours ago. Looks like he drowned. She’s out of her mind.”
“Oh my god, that’s awful!” Daly blurted as she rose from her chair, “How could that happen? Tommy swims all the time.” A cloud came over Daly’s face, “It wasn’t...it wasn’t on purpose...was it?”
“I don’t know. The police are still there. I guess the coroner arrived, so maybe they’ll know more by the time I get there,” he said over his shoulder. “I’m going to shower and head to Pat’s. I’ll call you when I can.” He disappeared down the hall.
Mark got to Tommy and Pat’s house around ten o’clock.
The pandemonium was in full swing with Life Squad, Fire Department and police cruisers filling the driveway and spilling into the street. Mark parked down the street and briskly walked up the sidewalk to the front door, which was standing open.
Inside a police sergeant was sitting with Tommy’s wife in their living room trying to console her. She was crying. By the look of her puffy eyes and stained cheeks, she’d been doing it for a while.
Mark entered the room.
Pat met his eyes and let out a sorrowful sob,“Mark. Tommy’s gone. I can’t believe it. What am I going to do?” Her voice cracked and she stood up.
He hugged her tightly for a moment. All he could come up with was, “Pat. I’m so sorry,” and the words seemed useless. He’d wished he’d said nothing at all.
Other friends and local family members were making their way into the room. Given the distraction, he gently broke away from her embrace.
Trying to catch the sergeant’s attention Mark stepped forward touching his shoulder, “Sergeant, can I have a moment with you.”
“Sure,” he said rising from the couch, ”Let’s talk in the yard.”
The sergeant had a distinct Irish accent. He wore a tweed jacket and a matching Irish wool driving cap. The cap had a small stiff brim in front, completing the appearance he’d just come from the golf courses of the UK or from the end of some rainbow where he guarded the pot of gold. He was of average build, maybe five foot ten inches, and had bright green eyes that probably twinkled under more pleasant circumstances.
They made their way to the pool area.
The coroner was working over Tommy’s body, now lying beside the pool and rolled onto his back. Tommy’s jet-black hair was wet and ringed his pale, blue face. His lips were purple and his mouth was gaping: the sleep of the dead in Technicolor.
Mark didn’t notice any blood or marks from a struggle that might indicate Tommy