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CATEGORIES
AUTHORS
Habu Stephen Bush OTHER IMPRINTS
Memberof The Australian Publishers Association Member of
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Coast to Coast E-BOOK US$0.99
PRINT BOOK US$7.95
The third Charlotte Diamond mystery.
Retired FBI senior investigator Charlotte Diamond finds herself jetting from murder on one coast of the United States to kidnapping on another in attempts to save both her lover and her former husband. Charlotte follows her new-found companion, the leading movie actress, Brenda Brandon, to Hollywood. Brenda had abruptly abandoned Hollywood and the movies and returned to her hometown of Hopewell on the Choptank, on Maryland’s Chesapeake Bay. But a cameo movie role she cannot turn down returns her to the scene of an old murder, for which she now is the leading suspect. Barely having dealt with that mystery on the West Coast, Charlotte is called back to Ocean City, Maryland, where her former husband and his new gambling casino have been targeted by the mob, and his new wife kidnapped.
Torn from West Coast to East Coast and thrown into the sphere of an even older and brighter flame than her former husband just when she had thought that her life was settling down, Charlotte is finding out that retirement looks a whole lot similar to when she was working on all cylinders at the FBI.
Excerpt:
“I
can’t believe you had the nerve to come back here,” the woman hissed at
Brenda, the belligerence in her voice matching the ugly expression on her face.
The young man who had been sitting with her was hovering just behind her and
plucking ineffectually at her arms. “But I’m glad you did. They’ll get you
this time. I’ll see that they do.” “Please,
Gretchen, not here. Not now. People are watching.” The voice was Brenda’s.
She was not looking at the young woman but, rather, was turning her crystal
water glass this way and that, picking up a rainbow of colors from the
chandeliers overhead, and using a calm soothing voice. “Yes,
Brenda, people are watching. Just what I want them to do,” The young woman
hissed, although she said it over her shoulder, because the young man now had
her wrapped in his arms and was pulling her away from Brenda and Charlotte’s
table and toward the restaurant’s exit. “And we’ll be giving them plenty
to watch, you and I,” the woman growled as, with the help of the restaurant
staff, she was bundled out of the restaurant. Indeed,
all action in the restaurant had stopped during this brief interlude, and all
were looking at Brenda and Charlotte’s table, their eyes big and luminous,
their jaws on their chests and working back and forth, at the ready for their
faces to lean into those of their companions and to start assessing what
they’d seen in low, excited voices. Charlotte was quick to note that the older
couple they had been discussing had disappeared from the room. “Quite
an entrance back into Hollywood, wouldn’t you say?” Brenda said, her voice
still calm, her body still under complete control. “Ruby Robey will have a
field day with this tomorrow.” For
anyone who didn’t know Brenda as well as Charlotte did, it no doubt looked
like Brenda wasn’t fazed at all by that little scene. But Charlotte could tell
that her companion, under that superb job of acting, had been knocked off her
pins and was both embarrassed and concerned. Her cheeks were burning and her
eyes were flashing. “I
take it not one of your admirers,” Charlotte murmured. She was speaking from
behind her menu, like Brenda, trying her best to play like nothing had just
happened. “But Ruby Robey? Who’s she?” “Ah,
I keep forgetting that you are a Hollywood neophyte. Ruby is the movie
colony’s very own gossip columnist—not the only one, of course, but the
queen bee of the dastardly genre. I knew she’d have quite a good time with my
return, but this is a gold mine for her pick and shovel. And me just a
small-town girl from Maryland. She’d have a field day with my rural upbringing
if she knew about that.” “Hardly
a small-town girl, Brenda,” Charlotte said, with a laugh. “Your family was
probably the most prominent one on the eastern bank of the Chesapeake.” But
then she stopped talking, remembering that Brenda had once said she was sent
away from Hopewell by her father after her mother had been murdered and
suspicion had been cast on Brenda. The
women were both silent for a moment, as they pretended to study their menus. “I
should have introduced you to the young woman,” Brenda said to end the period
of silence. “But she didn’t really give me a chance. I have no idea who the
nice-looking young man was—and I feel sorry for him being dragged into the
middle of this. The young woman was Gretchen Lund. I’ll no doubt run across
her at the studio again. She’s one of the studio’s premier makeup artists
and a favorite of my film’s producer, so it’s quite likely she’ll be
assigned to my movie. But I’m sure they will be sensitive enough not to assign
her to do my makeup.” “Is
that all?” “No,
obviously not. She’s also the daughter of the woman I was living with in
Beverly Hills before I left Hollywood, Helga Lund. I have told you about her.
The award-winning costume designer.” “And
this young woman disapproved of her mother’s living arrangements.” “I’m
afraid it goes a bit beyond that. Gretchen believes—truly believes, it seems
obvious—that I murdered her mother.”
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