The Haunted Lost Rose Blog Tour Materials
Thank you for taking part in The Haunted Lost Rose Blog Tour!
Below you'll find:
Please let us know when you post and send us a link at [email protected] so we can add it to our blog tour and, more importantly, share the heck out of it!
Wishing you all the best!
Echo Shea and Mindy Mymudes
Let's Talk Promotions
Psst...Promotions
Know someone not part of our blogger list, that might be interested? Click here!
Below you'll find:
- A blog tour Schedule
- A Potential Twitter Post with a Twitter-sized graphic.
- A Potential Instagram Post with an Instagram-sized graphic.
- A Potential Facebook Post with an Facebook-sized graphic.
- A Potential TikTok Post with Instagram sized-graphic.
- A Potential Blog Post.
- An HTML Blog post to Copy and Paste when you'd love to share, but you're in a hurry. (We've all been there.)
- A slideshow of different teasers, in case you'd like to mix it up.
- A Quick Find listing of: buy links, blogger run giveaway, rafflecopter, Blurb, about author, and excerpts. Please only use the excerpt assigned to you. (If you'd like an excerpt, get in contact with Echo at [email protected] and we'll see about getting you something for your blog--the more the merrier!)
Please let us know when you post and send us a link at [email protected] so we can add it to our blog tour and, more importantly, share the heck out of it!
Wishing you all the best!
Echo Shea and Mindy Mymudes
Let's Talk Promotions
Psst...Promotions
Know someone not part of our blogger list, that might be interested? Click here!
Blog Tour Schedule:
March 17
#BRVL Book Review Virginia Lee Blog
All Things Dark and Dirty
Bookstocurlupwith
March 20
Iron Canuck Reviews and More
Monster Complex
All the Ups and Downs
March 21
BooksGloriousBooks
Writing Cave Corner
Taming Chaos
Archaeolibrarian - I Dig Good Books!
March 22
Candid Canine
Lisa Ks Book Reviews
Dawn's Reading Nook
March 23
The Irresponsible Reader
Words about Words
Christy's Cozy Corners
March 24
Drops of Ink
100 Pages A Day
Janet Walden-West
A Soccer Mom's Book Blog
March 27
Karen's Killer Book Bench
#BRVL Book Review Virginia Lee Blog
All Things Dark and Dirty
Bookstocurlupwith
March 20
Iron Canuck Reviews and More
Monster Complex
All the Ups and Downs
March 21
BooksGloriousBooks
Writing Cave Corner
Taming Chaos
Archaeolibrarian - I Dig Good Books!
March 22
Candid Canine
Lisa Ks Book Reviews
Dawn's Reading Nook
March 23
The Irresponsible Reader
Words about Words
Christy's Cozy Corners
March 24
Drops of Ink
100 Pages A Day
Janet Walden-West
A Soccer Mom's Book Blog
March 27
Karen's Killer Book Bench
Twitter Post:
She can hear ghosts, and the secrets they keep...
The Haunted Lost Rose by C.L. Bauer
https://mybook.to/HauntedLostRose
#booktwt #BookTwitter #cozymystery #VoicesofCharlotteMystery #mysterynovel #BookBoost #Blogtour #BookPromo #BooksWorthReading #BookLover #BookPlug @CLBauer3
The Haunted Lost Rose by C.L. Bauer
https://mybook.to/HauntedLostRose
#booktwt #BookTwitter #cozymystery #VoicesofCharlotteMystery #mysterynovel #BookBoost #Blogtour #BookPromo #BooksWorthReading #BookLover #BookPlug @CLBauer3
Instagram Post:
Some secrets should stay hidden. If they come to light, darkness could weaken even the strongest of families.
Real estate agent Charlotte O'Donohue never looks forward to Mondays. Usually, a couple cups of coffee will fix her mood, but today an unexpected voice directs her to a dead body. She's going to need a bigger cup, and it better be caffeinated!
When the dead body happens to be your client, the scandal could jeopardize her brother's business, but Charlotte is more worried about a mysterious stranger who decides she's the number one suspect. He seems familiar and dangerous. He knows she has a secret, and Charlotte will do anything to keep the truth from him. How could he possibly understand that she can hear the dead?
Ghostly whispers from a spirit who haunts the large Kansas City mansion warns of more danger to come for Charlotte, her family, and for the stranger. But as Charlotte discovers a key to one mystery, another one appears...one that could reveal more than a murderer but a long-forbidden love.
The haunted and the living seem to be conspiring against the spunky real estate agent, throwing her into a love of her own that shakes her to the core.
When long hidden secrets expose lost loves, two intertwined families are placed in jeopardy in Charlotte's Voices of Mystery.
Publication Date: March 17, 2023
ASIN: B0BSVM9H5T
ISBN:
Language: English
Length: 252 pages
Genre: Paranormal Cozy Mystery/Romance
Buy Link: https://mybook.to/HauntedLostRose
Other Stores: https://books2read.com/u/3Joj5E/
Want to delve into more of Ms. Bauer's work? Check out her completed Lily List Mystery Series, or sign-up for her newsletter here.
Want to keep up to date on what C.L. Bauer is doing? Follow her on Amazon, Bookbub, and Goodreads.
#bookstagram #romanticsuspense #ParanormalRomance #bookseries #BookBoost #blogtour #booklove #bookrecommendation #newrelease #bookrelease #newrelease2023 #contemporarymystery #paranormalcozymystery #cozymystery
Real estate agent Charlotte O'Donohue never looks forward to Mondays. Usually, a couple cups of coffee will fix her mood, but today an unexpected voice directs her to a dead body. She's going to need a bigger cup, and it better be caffeinated!
When the dead body happens to be your client, the scandal could jeopardize her brother's business, but Charlotte is more worried about a mysterious stranger who decides she's the number one suspect. He seems familiar and dangerous. He knows she has a secret, and Charlotte will do anything to keep the truth from him. How could he possibly understand that she can hear the dead?
Ghostly whispers from a spirit who haunts the large Kansas City mansion warns of more danger to come for Charlotte, her family, and for the stranger. But as Charlotte discovers a key to one mystery, another one appears...one that could reveal more than a murderer but a long-forbidden love.
The haunted and the living seem to be conspiring against the spunky real estate agent, throwing her into a love of her own that shakes her to the core.
When long hidden secrets expose lost loves, two intertwined families are placed in jeopardy in Charlotte's Voices of Mystery.
Publication Date: March 17, 2023
ASIN: B0BSVM9H5T
ISBN:
Language: English
Length: 252 pages
Genre: Paranormal Cozy Mystery/Romance
Buy Link: https://mybook.to/HauntedLostRose
Other Stores: https://books2read.com/u/3Joj5E/
Want to delve into more of Ms. Bauer's work? Check out her completed Lily List Mystery Series, or sign-up for her newsletter here.
Want to keep up to date on what C.L. Bauer is doing? Follow her on Amazon, Bookbub, and Goodreads.
#bookstagram #romanticsuspense #ParanormalRomance #bookseries #BookBoost #blogtour #booklove #bookrecommendation #newrelease #bookrelease #newrelease2023 #contemporarymystery #paranormalcozymystery #cozymystery
Facebook Post:
Some secrets should stay hidden. If they come to light, darkness could weaken even the strongest of families.
Real estate agent Charlotte O'Donohue never looks forward to Mondays. Usually, a couple cups of coffee will fix her mood, but today an unexpected voice directs her to a dead body. She's going to need a bigger cup, and it better be caffeinated!
When the dead body happens to be your client, the scandal could jeopardize her brother's business, but Charlotte is more worried about a mysterious stranger who decides she's the number one suspect. He seems familiar and dangerous. He knows she has a secret, and Charlotte will do anything to keep the truth from him. How could he possibly understand that she can hear the dead?
Ghostly whispers from a spirit who haunts the large Kansas City mansion warns of more danger to come for Charlotte, her family, and for the stranger. But as Charlotte discovers a key to one mystery, another one appears...one that could reveal more than a murderer but a long-forbidden love.
The haunted and the living seem to be conspiring against the spunky real estate agent, throwing her into a love of her own that shakes her to the core.
When long hidden secrets expose lost loves, two intertwined families are placed in jeopardy in Charlotte's Voices of Mystery.
Publication Date: March 17, 2023
ASIN: B0BSVM9H5T
ISBN:
Language: English
Length: 252 pages
Genre: Paranormal Cozy Mystery/Romance
Buy Link: https://mybook.to/HauntedLostRose
Other Stores: https://books2read.com/u/3Joj5E/
Want to delve into more of Ms. Bauer's work? Check out her completed Lily List Mystery Series, or sign-up for her newsletter here.
Want to keep up to date on what C.L. Bauer is doing? Follow her on Amazon, Bookbub, and Goodreads.
#bookstagram #romanticsuspense #ParanormalRomance #bookseries #BookBoost #blogtour #booklove #bookrecommendation #newrelease #bookrelease #newrelease2023 #contemporarymystery #paranormalcozymystery #cozymystery
Real estate agent Charlotte O'Donohue never looks forward to Mondays. Usually, a couple cups of coffee will fix her mood, but today an unexpected voice directs her to a dead body. She's going to need a bigger cup, and it better be caffeinated!
When the dead body happens to be your client, the scandal could jeopardize her brother's business, but Charlotte is more worried about a mysterious stranger who decides she's the number one suspect. He seems familiar and dangerous. He knows she has a secret, and Charlotte will do anything to keep the truth from him. How could he possibly understand that she can hear the dead?
Ghostly whispers from a spirit who haunts the large Kansas City mansion warns of more danger to come for Charlotte, her family, and for the stranger. But as Charlotte discovers a key to one mystery, another one appears...one that could reveal more than a murderer but a long-forbidden love.
The haunted and the living seem to be conspiring against the spunky real estate agent, throwing her into a love of her own that shakes her to the core.
When long hidden secrets expose lost loves, two intertwined families are placed in jeopardy in Charlotte's Voices of Mystery.
Publication Date: March 17, 2023
ASIN: B0BSVM9H5T
ISBN:
Language: English
Length: 252 pages
Genre: Paranormal Cozy Mystery/Romance
Buy Link: https://mybook.to/HauntedLostRose
Other Stores: https://books2read.com/u/3Joj5E/
Want to delve into more of Ms. Bauer's work? Check out her completed Lily List Mystery Series, or sign-up for her newsletter here.
Want to keep up to date on what C.L. Bauer is doing? Follow her on Amazon, Bookbub, and Goodreads.
#bookstagram #romanticsuspense #ParanormalRomance #bookseries #BookBoost #blogtour #booklove #bookrecommendation #newrelease #bookrelease #newrelease2023 #contemporarymystery #paranormalcozymystery #cozymystery
TikTok Post:
Blog Post:
The Haunted Lost Rose by Clara Bauer #BlogTour
Some secrets should stay hidden. If they come to light, darkness could weaken even the strongest of families.
Real estate agent Charlotte O'Donohue never looks forward to Mondays. Usually, a couple cups of coffee will fix her mood, but today an unexpected voice directs her to a dead body. She's going to need a bigger cup, and it better be caffeinated!
When the dead body happens to be your client, the scandal could jeopardize her brother's business, but Charlotte is more worried about a mysterious stranger who decides she's the number one suspect. He seems familiar and dangerous. He knows she has a secret, and Charlotte will do anything to keep the truth from him. How could he possibly understand that she can hear the dead?
Ghostly whispers from a spirit who haunts the large Kansas City mansion warns of more danger to come for Charlotte, her family, and for the stranger. But as Charlotte discovers a key to one mystery, another one appears...one that could reveal more than a murderer but a long-forbidden love.
The haunted and the living seem to be conspiring against the spunky real estate agent, throwing her into a love of her own that shakes her to the core.
When long hidden secrets expose lost loves, two intertwined families are placed in jeopardy in Charlotte's Voices of Mystery.
Publication Date: March 17, 2023
ASIN: B0BSVM9H5T
ISBN:
Language: English
Length: 252 pages
Genre: Paranormal Cozy Mystery/Romance
Buy Link: https://mybook.to/HauntedLostRose
Other Stores: https://books2read.com/u/3Joj5E/
Want to delve into more of Ms. Bauer's work? Check out her completed Lily List Mystery Series, or sign-up for her newsletter here.
Want to keep up to date on what C.L. Bauer is doing? Follow her on Amazon, Bookbub, and Goodreads.
Real estate agent Charlotte O'Donohue never looks forward to Mondays. Usually, a couple cups of coffee will fix her mood, but today an unexpected voice directs her to a dead body. She's going to need a bigger cup, and it better be caffeinated!
When the dead body happens to be your client, the scandal could jeopardize her brother's business, but Charlotte is more worried about a mysterious stranger who decides she's the number one suspect. He seems familiar and dangerous. He knows she has a secret, and Charlotte will do anything to keep the truth from him. How could he possibly understand that she can hear the dead?
Ghostly whispers from a spirit who haunts the large Kansas City mansion warns of more danger to come for Charlotte, her family, and for the stranger. But as Charlotte discovers a key to one mystery, another one appears...one that could reveal more than a murderer but a long-forbidden love.
The haunted and the living seem to be conspiring against the spunky real estate agent, throwing her into a love of her own that shakes her to the core.
When long hidden secrets expose lost loves, two intertwined families are placed in jeopardy in Charlotte's Voices of Mystery.
Publication Date: March 17, 2023
ASIN: B0BSVM9H5T
ISBN:
Language: English
Length: 252 pages
Genre: Paranormal Cozy Mystery/Romance
Buy Link: https://mybook.to/HauntedLostRose
Other Stores: https://books2read.com/u/3Joj5E/
Want to delve into more of Ms. Bauer's work? Check out her completed Lily List Mystery Series, or sign-up for her newsletter here.
Want to keep up to date on what C.L. Bauer is doing? Follow her on Amazon, Bookbub, and Goodreads.
Rafflecopter:
<a class="rcptr" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/9751c04279/" rel="nofollow" data-raflid="9751c04279" data-theme="classic" data-template="" id="rcwidget_d2i80t6a">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
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<script src="https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js"></script>
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Kansas City, Missouri native C.L. Bauer is the author of three series in mystery genres. Originally a reporter, Bauer worked through jobs in marketing and advertising, to eventually take over the reins of her family’s century old business, Clara’s Flowers. Many of the stories used in her books are based on true events from years in the wedding and event flower world.
You can reach C.L. Bauer on all social mediums, Goodreads, and through her website, www.clbauer.com. You can check out her flower designs at www.clarasflowers.com
Kansas City, Missouri native C.L. Bauer is the author of three series in mystery genres. Originally a reporter, Bauer worked through jobs in marketing and advertising, to eventually take over the reins of her family’s century old business, Clara’s Flowers. Many of the stories used in her books are based on true events from years in the wedding and event flower world.
You can reach C.L. Bauer on all social mediums, Goodreads, and through her website, www.clbauer.com. You can check out her flower designs at www.clarasflowers.com
HTML Post:
<img data-file-id="6510873" height="942" src="https://mcusercontent.com/db46d89a669bcc0564562defc/images/3041c027-c85f-231b-e392-459c1dd23e03.jpeg" style="border: 0px ; width: 600px; height: 942px; margin: 0px;" width="600" /><br />
<br />
Some secrets should stay hidden. If they come to light, darkness could weaken even the strongest of families.<br />
<br />
Real estate agent Charlotte O'Donohue never looks forward to Mondays. Usually, a couple cups of coffee will fix her mood, but today an unexpected voice directs her to a dead body. She's going to need a bigger cup, and it better be caffeinated!<br />
<br />
When the dead body happens to be your client, the scandal could jeopardize her brother's business, but Charlotte is more worried about a mysterious stranger who decides she's the number one suspect. He seems familiar and dangerous. He knows she has a secret, and Charlotte will do anything to keep the truth from him. How could he possibly understand that she can hear the dead?<br />
<br />
Ghostly whispers from a spirit who haunts the large Kansas City mansion warns of more danger to come for Charlotte, her family, and for the stranger. But as Charlotte discovers a key to one mystery, another one appears...one that could reveal more than a murderer but a long-forbidden love.<br />
<br />
The haunted and the living seem to be conspiring against the spunky real estate agent, throwing her into a love of her own that shakes her to the core.<br />
<br />
When long hidden secrets expose lost loves, two intertwined families are placed in jeopardy in Charlotte's Voices of Mystery.<br />
<br />
<br />
<strong>Publication Date: March 17, 2023<br />
ASIN: B0BSVM9H5T<br />
ISBN: <br />
Language: English<br />
Length: 252 pages<br />
Genre: Paranormal Cozy Mystery/Romance<br />
Buy Link: https://mybook.to/HauntedLostRose<br />
Other Stores: <a href="https://books2read.com/u/3Joj5E/?fbclid=IwAR2odfyz9wZcYploB2fD0rNEe1Vf8sAF2XY8_v0APMfRKY7a-oHLXcuLQ-k" original_target="https://books2read.com/u/3joj5e/?fbclid=iwar2odfyz9wzcyplob2fd0rnee1vf8saf2xy8_v0apmfrky7a-ohlxculq-k" rel="nofollow noopener" role="link" tabindex="0" target="_blank" waprocessedanchor="true" waprocessedid="gytx9d">https://books2read.com/u/3Joj5E/</a></strong><br />
<br />
Want to delve into more of Ms. Bauer's work? Check out her completed <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09YS3STV3" target="_blank">Lily List Mystery Series</a>, or sign-up for her newsletter <a href="https://clbauer.com/contact/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
Want to keep up to date on what C.L. Bauer is doing? Follow her on <a href="https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B07XLF7KT7" target="_blank">Amazon</a>, <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/authors/c-l-bauer" target="_blank">Bookbub</a>, and <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18450877.C_L_Bauer" target="_blank">Goodreads</a>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a class="rcptr" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/9751c04279/" rel="nofollow" data-raflid="9751c04279" data-theme="classic" data-template="" id="rcwidget_d2i80t6a">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
<script src="https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js"></script><br />
<br />
<img data-file-id="1387860" height="460" src="https://mcusercontent.com/db46d89a669bcc0564562defc/images/aaecb154-544c-4fa8-8b8d-158ab2e41ae8.jpg" style="border: 0px ; width: 400px; height: 460px; margin: 0px;" width="400" />
<p dir="ltr"><br />
<strong id="docs-internal-guid-487e7145-7fff-c04e-a24d-472229a36971">About the Author:</strong></p>
<p dir="ltr"><strong id="docs-internal-guid-487e7145-7fff-c04e-a24d-472229a36971">Kansas City, Missouri native C.L. Bauer is the author of three series in mystery genres. Originally a reporter, Bauer worked through jobs in marketing and advertising, to eventually take over the reins of her family’s century old business, Clara’s Flowers. Many of the stories used in her books are based on true events from years in the wedding and event flower world.</strong></p>
<strong id="docs-internal-guid-487e7145-7fff-c04e-a24d-472229a36971">You can reach C.L. Bauer on all social mediums, Goodreads, and through her website, <a href="http://www.clbauer.com">www.clbauer.com</a>. You can check out her flower designs at www.clarasflowers.com</strong>
<br />
Some secrets should stay hidden. If they come to light, darkness could weaken even the strongest of families.<br />
<br />
Real estate agent Charlotte O'Donohue never looks forward to Mondays. Usually, a couple cups of coffee will fix her mood, but today an unexpected voice directs her to a dead body. She's going to need a bigger cup, and it better be caffeinated!<br />
<br />
When the dead body happens to be your client, the scandal could jeopardize her brother's business, but Charlotte is more worried about a mysterious stranger who decides she's the number one suspect. He seems familiar and dangerous. He knows she has a secret, and Charlotte will do anything to keep the truth from him. How could he possibly understand that she can hear the dead?<br />
<br />
Ghostly whispers from a spirit who haunts the large Kansas City mansion warns of more danger to come for Charlotte, her family, and for the stranger. But as Charlotte discovers a key to one mystery, another one appears...one that could reveal more than a murderer but a long-forbidden love.<br />
<br />
The haunted and the living seem to be conspiring against the spunky real estate agent, throwing her into a love of her own that shakes her to the core.<br />
<br />
When long hidden secrets expose lost loves, two intertwined families are placed in jeopardy in Charlotte's Voices of Mystery.<br />
<br />
<br />
<strong>Publication Date: March 17, 2023<br />
ASIN: B0BSVM9H5T<br />
ISBN: <br />
Language: English<br />
Length: 252 pages<br />
Genre: Paranormal Cozy Mystery/Romance<br />
Buy Link: https://mybook.to/HauntedLostRose<br />
Other Stores: <a href="https://books2read.com/u/3Joj5E/?fbclid=IwAR2odfyz9wZcYploB2fD0rNEe1Vf8sAF2XY8_v0APMfRKY7a-oHLXcuLQ-k" original_target="https://books2read.com/u/3joj5e/?fbclid=iwar2odfyz9wzcyplob2fd0rnee1vf8saf2xy8_v0apmfrky7a-ohlxculq-k" rel="nofollow noopener" role="link" tabindex="0" target="_blank" waprocessedanchor="true" waprocessedid="gytx9d">https://books2read.com/u/3Joj5E/</a></strong><br />
<br />
Want to delve into more of Ms. Bauer's work? Check out her completed <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09YS3STV3" target="_blank">Lily List Mystery Series</a>, or sign-up for her newsletter <a href="https://clbauer.com/contact/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
Want to keep up to date on what C.L. Bauer is doing? Follow her on <a href="https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B07XLF7KT7" target="_blank">Amazon</a>, <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/authors/c-l-bauer" target="_blank">Bookbub</a>, and <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18450877.C_L_Bauer" target="_blank">Goodreads</a>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a class="rcptr" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/9751c04279/" rel="nofollow" data-raflid="9751c04279" data-theme="classic" data-template="" id="rcwidget_d2i80t6a">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
<script src="https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js"></script><br />
<br />
<img data-file-id="1387860" height="460" src="https://mcusercontent.com/db46d89a669bcc0564562defc/images/aaecb154-544c-4fa8-8b8d-158ab2e41ae8.jpg" style="border: 0px ; width: 400px; height: 460px; margin: 0px;" width="400" />
<p dir="ltr"><br />
<strong id="docs-internal-guid-487e7145-7fff-c04e-a24d-472229a36971">About the Author:</strong></p>
<p dir="ltr"><strong id="docs-internal-guid-487e7145-7fff-c04e-a24d-472229a36971">Kansas City, Missouri native C.L. Bauer is the author of three series in mystery genres. Originally a reporter, Bauer worked through jobs in marketing and advertising, to eventually take over the reins of her family’s century old business, Clara’s Flowers. Many of the stories used in her books are based on true events from years in the wedding and event flower world.</strong></p>
<strong id="docs-internal-guid-487e7145-7fff-c04e-a24d-472229a36971">You can reach C.L. Bauer on all social mediums, Goodreads, and through her website, <a href="http://www.clbauer.com">www.clbauer.com</a>. You can check out her flower designs at www.clarasflowers.com</strong>
Info Quick Find:
Blogger Run Giveaway:
For those that selected giveaway on the form, you're authorized to giveaway one e-copy of The Haunted Lost Rose by Clara Bauer to one of your blog readers. This is a giveaway outside of the Rafflecopter, just for your readers.
Buy Links:
Rafflecopter:
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Book Blurb:
Some secrets should stay hidden. If they come to light, darkness could weaken even the strongest of families.
Real estate agent Charlotte O'Donohue never looks forward to Mondays. Usually, a couple cups of coffee will fix her mood, but today an unexpected voice directs her to a dead body. She's going to need a bigger cup, and it better be caffeinated!
When the dead body happens to be your client, the scandal could jeopardize her brother's business, but Charlotte is more worried about a mysterious stranger who decides she's the number one suspect. He seems familiar and dangerous. He knows she has a secret, and Charlotte will do anything to keep the truth from him. How could he possibly understand that she can hear the dead?
Ghostly whispers from a spirit who haunts the large Kansas City mansion warns of more danger to come for Charlotte, her family, and for the stranger. But as Charlotte discovers a key to one mystery, another one appears...one that could reveal more than a murderer but a long-forbidden love.
The haunted and the living seem to be conspiring against the spunky real estate agent, throwing her into a love of her own that shakes her to the core.
When long hidden secrets expose lost loves, two intertwined families are placed in jeopardy in Charlotte's Voices of Mystery.
Publication Date: March 17, 2023
ASIN: B0BSVM9H5T
ISBN:
Language: English
Length: 252 pages
Genre: Paranormal Cozy Mystery/Romance
Buy Link: https://mybook.to/HauntedLostRose
Want to delve into more of Ms. Bauer's work? Check out her completed Lily List Mystery Series, or sign-up for her newsletter here.
Want to keep up to date on what C.L. Bauer is doing? Follow her on Amazon, Bookbub, and Goodreads.
Real estate agent Charlotte O'Donohue never looks forward to Mondays. Usually, a couple cups of coffee will fix her mood, but today an unexpected voice directs her to a dead body. She's going to need a bigger cup, and it better be caffeinated!
When the dead body happens to be your client, the scandal could jeopardize her brother's business, but Charlotte is more worried about a mysterious stranger who decides she's the number one suspect. He seems familiar and dangerous. He knows she has a secret, and Charlotte will do anything to keep the truth from him. How could he possibly understand that she can hear the dead?
Ghostly whispers from a spirit who haunts the large Kansas City mansion warns of more danger to come for Charlotte, her family, and for the stranger. But as Charlotte discovers a key to one mystery, another one appears...one that could reveal more than a murderer but a long-forbidden love.
The haunted and the living seem to be conspiring against the spunky real estate agent, throwing her into a love of her own that shakes her to the core.
When long hidden secrets expose lost loves, two intertwined families are placed in jeopardy in Charlotte's Voices of Mystery.
Publication Date: March 17, 2023
ASIN: B0BSVM9H5T
ISBN:
Language: English
Length: 252 pages
Genre: Paranormal Cozy Mystery/Romance
Buy Link: https://mybook.to/HauntedLostRose
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Author Bio:
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Kansas City, Missouri native C.L. Bauer is the author of three series in mystery genres. Originally a reporter, Bauer worked through jobs in marketing and advertising, to eventually take over the reins of her family’s century old business, Clara’s Flowers. Many of the stories used in her books are based on true events from years in the wedding and event flower world.
You can reach C.L. Bauer on all social mediums, Goodreads, and through her website, www.clbauer.com. You can check out her flower designs at www.clarasflowers.com
Kansas City, Missouri native C.L. Bauer is the author of three series in mystery genres. Originally a reporter, Bauer worked through jobs in marketing and advertising, to eventually take over the reins of her family’s century old business, Clara’s Flowers. Many of the stories used in her books are based on true events from years in the wedding and event flower world.
You can reach C.L. Bauer on all social mediums, Goodreads, and through her website, www.clbauer.com. You can check out her flower designs at www.clarasflowers.com
Excerpts:
Excerpt One:
The large flakes of snow fell harder as I drove past the art museum and entered onto the long driveway. No one would be shoveling this baby. There was a light tire track or two guiding me. Apparently, Mr. Martin was waiting for me. I was five minutes early.
The windows and roof of his car were completely full of the white stuff. I hurried up the concrete trail. There were no previous footprints to shield my steps. What the heck? When had he arrived? My client’s car was parked near the sidewalk, but it looked as though it had been there forever.
I expected to meet him at the front door, but he wasn’t there. I turned the knob. The door was locked. I used my key and entered the structure.
“Mr. Martin? It’s Charlotte O'Donohue. Where are you?”
Silence was my only answer. I yelled again. Nothing. Oh come on. This was weird.
I entered the room on the right and felt a cold wind through a partially open window. Heading to close it, I noticed a red rose laying on the marble mantle of the massive fireplace. “That’s strange.” I shut the window tightly and placed my bag over on a corner desk.
“Mr. Martin?” I shouted as I walked through the mammoth dining room with its built-in cabinets. I checked the kitchen and the butler’s pantry. I walked back into what had been serving as a small ballroom.
“He’s in here.” I heard the words. I shook my head. It was the wind.
“I said he’s in here.”
I stood still. My body was completely frozen from fingers to toes. My head throbbed. The damn headache always came on when something awful was happening or when I heard someone from beyond. “What did you say? Where?” I shouted out.
“He’s where I used to read to my pup. Take care, dear girl.”
I breathed out and a stream of frosted air left my body. Slowly, I walked further into the dark. I knew it well. It was my favorite place in the mansion. It featured a floor of black and white tiny tiles imported from Europe in the early 1900’s. The room had one wall of windows that overlooked the terraced gardens. I visited this house when it was a tennis club. Mom had taken Janie and me to a mother-daughter tea. It was a special day, but it had been the day before a very awful day. I shook those thoughts away as I peered around the corner. On the floor of those tiny tiles, I saw the soles of two shoes. The body was between the sitting room and what I thought used to be a sunroom. “Oh no.” As I rushed in, I saw Mr. Martin’s body stretched out on the cold floor. He was face down and too big to turn him over. I crouched down to touch him, but he was cold to the touch.
The large flakes of snow fell harder as I drove past the art museum and entered onto the long driveway. No one would be shoveling this baby. There was a light tire track or two guiding me. Apparently, Mr. Martin was waiting for me. I was five minutes early.
The windows and roof of his car were completely full of the white stuff. I hurried up the concrete trail. There were no previous footprints to shield my steps. What the heck? When had he arrived? My client’s car was parked near the sidewalk, but it looked as though it had been there forever.
I expected to meet him at the front door, but he wasn’t there. I turned the knob. The door was locked. I used my key and entered the structure.
“Mr. Martin? It’s Charlotte O'Donohue. Where are you?”
Silence was my only answer. I yelled again. Nothing. Oh come on. This was weird.
I entered the room on the right and felt a cold wind through a partially open window. Heading to close it, I noticed a red rose laying on the marble mantle of the massive fireplace. “That’s strange.” I shut the window tightly and placed my bag over on a corner desk.
“Mr. Martin?” I shouted as I walked through the mammoth dining room with its built-in cabinets. I checked the kitchen and the butler’s pantry. I walked back into what had been serving as a small ballroom.
“He’s in here.” I heard the words. I shook my head. It was the wind.
“I said he’s in here.”
I stood still. My body was completely frozen from fingers to toes. My head throbbed. The damn headache always came on when something awful was happening or when I heard someone from beyond. “What did you say? Where?” I shouted out.
“He’s where I used to read to my pup. Take care, dear girl.”
I breathed out and a stream of frosted air left my body. Slowly, I walked further into the dark. I knew it well. It was my favorite place in the mansion. It featured a floor of black and white tiny tiles imported from Europe in the early 1900’s. The room had one wall of windows that overlooked the terraced gardens. I visited this house when it was a tennis club. Mom had taken Janie and me to a mother-daughter tea. It was a special day, but it had been the day before a very awful day. I shook those thoughts away as I peered around the corner. On the floor of those tiny tiles, I saw the soles of two shoes. The body was between the sitting room and what I thought used to be a sunroom. “Oh no.” As I rushed in, I saw Mr. Martin’s body stretched out on the cold floor. He was face down and too big to turn him over. I crouched down to touch him, but he was cold to the touch.
Excerpt Two:
“Oh no.” As I rushed in, I saw Mr. Martin’s body stretched out on the cold floor. He was face down and too big to turn him over. I crouched down to touch him, but he was cold to the touch. I only knew how to do what I saw on television. Grabbing his arm, I felt nothing. I touched his neck. There was no beating or pulsing of any kind.
“I said he was here. He’s departed.”
I looked around, but saw no one. Of course. I was listening to someone who was part of this house.
“I can see that.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and hit 9-1-1. “Do you know what happened to him?” I yelled out the question but received only silence once more.
“Hello, I’m at the old Taylor Club, and I’ve found a dead man, my client. I’m a realtor. Yes, the old Taylor Club. I’ll be waiting.”
I looked around the body. Nothing was out of place. Nothing seemed to be disrupted in the room. No window was broken, no table overturned. I stood up and moved away from his body. The tremors began to take over, shaking me to my core. I leaned up against the brick wall of the room beneath a framed painting.
Needing a distraction, I turned to look up at the piece of art. It featured a lovely woman seated in a Queen Anne chair as she held a small dog and a book in her lap. The woman was sitting in this very room. Her dress was white with a small red and coral bloom print. At her neck, the dress tied with a red bow to the left. Her eyes were a piercing color of green. Her hair was sunshine blond. The painting was unfinished at the bottom, her lower figure was only outlined.
“Is this you?” I asked out loud.
“Once.” I heard the voice fainter than before, or perhaps it was another voice. If walls could talk! Perhaps they could in this old house.
“Thank you for being here with me. I haven’t been with a dead body before, well not since...” I stopped muttering. I was shaking from the cold, my fear, and my memories.
I heard a soft laugh. “Dead. Only another time, another place.”
I walked back to the hallway to wait for the police. “Maybe for you, but for me this is not a normal day in Kansas City.” I glanced back at the red rose on the mantle. “And who left that?”
“Be careful.” Those two words shook me to my core. I heard the sirens. I rushed to open the door.
“Charlie?” My brother, the police sergeant, stood in front of me. His face was distorted in a mixture of shock and fear. “They said some real estate person was here, but I didn’t realize it was you. Tom is going to have a heart attack. Where’s the body?”
“Nice to see you too, Sean. He’s in the sitting room. I’ll show you.” I led him to Mr. Martin’s body. I stood back watching the oncoming swarm of officers and emergency workers do their jobs. But my client was still dead.
“Oh no.” As I rushed in, I saw Mr. Martin’s body stretched out on the cold floor. He was face down and too big to turn him over. I crouched down to touch him, but he was cold to the touch. I only knew how to do what I saw on television. Grabbing his arm, I felt nothing. I touched his neck. There was no beating or pulsing of any kind.
“I said he was here. He’s departed.”
I looked around, but saw no one. Of course. I was listening to someone who was part of this house.
“I can see that.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and hit 9-1-1. “Do you know what happened to him?” I yelled out the question but received only silence once more.
“Hello, I’m at the old Taylor Club, and I’ve found a dead man, my client. I’m a realtor. Yes, the old Taylor Club. I’ll be waiting.”
I looked around the body. Nothing was out of place. Nothing seemed to be disrupted in the room. No window was broken, no table overturned. I stood up and moved away from his body. The tremors began to take over, shaking me to my core. I leaned up against the brick wall of the room beneath a framed painting.
Needing a distraction, I turned to look up at the piece of art. It featured a lovely woman seated in a Queen Anne chair as she held a small dog and a book in her lap. The woman was sitting in this very room. Her dress was white with a small red and coral bloom print. At her neck, the dress tied with a red bow to the left. Her eyes were a piercing color of green. Her hair was sunshine blond. The painting was unfinished at the bottom, her lower figure was only outlined.
“Is this you?” I asked out loud.
“Once.” I heard the voice fainter than before, or perhaps it was another voice. If walls could talk! Perhaps they could in this old house.
“Thank you for being here with me. I haven’t been with a dead body before, well not since...” I stopped muttering. I was shaking from the cold, my fear, and my memories.
I heard a soft laugh. “Dead. Only another time, another place.”
I walked back to the hallway to wait for the police. “Maybe for you, but for me this is not a normal day in Kansas City.” I glanced back at the red rose on the mantle. “And who left that?”
“Be careful.” Those two words shook me to my core. I heard the sirens. I rushed to open the door.
“Charlie?” My brother, the police sergeant, stood in front of me. His face was distorted in a mixture of shock and fear. “They said some real estate person was here, but I didn’t realize it was you. Tom is going to have a heart attack. Where’s the body?”
“Nice to see you too, Sean. He’s in the sitting room. I’ll show you.” I led him to Mr. Martin’s body. I stood back watching the oncoming swarm of officers and emergency workers do their jobs. But my client was still dead.
Excerpt Three:
I led him to Mr. Martin’s body. I stood back watching the oncoming swarm of officers and emergency workers do their jobs. But my client was still dead.
Sean headed toward me with his own version of “this is so awful that you had to see this” face. He opened his arms and wrapped me up in them. “Let’s hope the detective doesn’t get this case.”
That hadn’t even occurred to me as a possibility until Sean mentioned it. “He won’t. He can’t.” As if on cue in a very bad mystery movie, our oldest brother, William Padric O'Donohue, Jr. stood next to us, looming over me with his bear-like frame.
“Charlie, what the hell?”
“Good Morning to you too, Paddy,” I greeted him as I turned out of Sean’s arms. On a good day, this brother was particularly intimidating with a perpetual scowl and large build that could intimidate a grizzly bear. On a bad day he could replicate the second coming of the devil.
I led him to Mr. Martin’s body. I stood back watching the oncoming swarm of officers and emergency workers do their jobs. But my client was still dead.
Sean headed toward me with his own version of “this is so awful that you had to see this” face. He opened his arms and wrapped me up in them. “Let’s hope the detective doesn’t get this case.”
That hadn’t even occurred to me as a possibility until Sean mentioned it. “He won’t. He can’t.” As if on cue in a very bad mystery movie, our oldest brother, William Padric O'Donohue, Jr. stood next to us, looming over me with his bear-like frame.
“Charlie, what the hell?”
“Good Morning to you too, Paddy,” I greeted him as I turned out of Sean’s arms. On a good day, this brother was particularly intimidating with a perpetual scowl and large build that could intimidate a grizzly bear. On a bad day he could replicate the second coming of the devil.
Excerpt Four:
Sean gave me a brief hug, and Paddy waved to me as he watched me exit the house. I noticed that the rose was still on the mantle. I quickly pulled out my phone and shot a photo. No one would even notice if I took the flower, but my brothers would kill me if I moved evidence. As it was, I was already leaving with an item that might be related to the murder. Maybe it was an additional house key? Or maybe someone had dropped it years ago in that old window seat, and it didn’t mean anything to anyone? But the voice didn’t want me to tell. My thoughts raced as I battled with the secret. I shut my eyes and made my final decision. I was leaving the house with it. I pulled my coat closer to me as I walked down the sidewalk. I slowed my steps after my first slip. The snow was slick to walk on. I carefully passed more and more police, news reporters, camera crews, and others before I arrived at my car.
As I began to slide uncontrollably toward my door, a black gloved hand held me up.
“Whoops,” I yelled. “Thank you so much.” The gentleman was holding me up in his arms, and I felt as though I was at his mercy for some reason.
“You’re welcome.” His voice was low. I heard some sort of an accent, but I just wasn’t sure what it was. I looked up slowly to gaze into the prettiest brown eyes. They were the color of my favorite candy bar. They were large, offering a girl enough room to get lost in them on a rainy day. Heck, on any kind of day. His dark hair was wavy, windblown, and had hints of a white hair here and there. Mmm, I never was that fond of salt and pepper hair, but just these little touches looked good, well looked great on him.
He was still holding me up, when I stiffened and reached out my hand to my car door.
“Here, let me get you to the door.” He slowly pushed me closer and made sure I had safely made it inside the vehicle. “Have a good day, Ms--”
“O'Donohue, Charlotte.”
He smiled. His smile could very well melt every snowflake on my coat. In fact, I was warm all over. “Ah, O'Donohue, as in every O'Donohue in this blessed city?”
I nodded. I just didn’t have the ability to speak right now as he smiled again.
“And I suppose you all know everything about everyone just like a large Irish family should?”
I cleared my throat. Come on, get a hold of yourself. “We wouldn’t be Irish if we didn’t. We all know secrets, but we just tell only one person.”
He nodded knowingly. “And that person tells another, and before you know it, everyone in the world knows everything?”
I nodded again and smiled like some goofy teenager. “It seems as though you’ve caught on.”
“I’ve only been here a short time, but I catch on very quickly.” He looked toward the house and pointed. “I need to go in there.”
“Then I need to warn you that there are a couple of those O'Donohue men in there.”
“I bet I can guess which ones. One of them called me. It was nice to save you.”
Save me? Right, from the fall. He began to shut my door, but I braced my arm against it. “I didn’t get your name.”
He shook his head shyly, and smiled again. He seemingly thought that could distract me. “No, you didn’t. Sorry, occupational hazard. Be careful out there.” He closed my door very unceremoniously.
I watched him pull his coat’s lapels up around his neck. He shoved his hands inside his pockets and began to walk toward the house. He turned around once to look back at me. I smiled like an idiot just in case he could see that far. Then he disappeared into the structure. I also saw a curtain move in one of the windows on the third floor. Then I saw another curtain flowing freely on the second floor, but I also saw a shape, a dark form. The curtain was pulled back and then fluttered back into place. It was nothing, probably just a draft, wasn’t it? I was only lying to myself. I knew what I saw. The spirit haunting that house was very concerned with the man who was entering the old Taylor Club, but I was more intrigued by the stranger.
I bit my lip. “Who was that?”
Sean gave me a brief hug, and Paddy waved to me as he watched me exit the house. I noticed that the rose was still on the mantle. I quickly pulled out my phone and shot a photo. No one would even notice if I took the flower, but my brothers would kill me if I moved evidence. As it was, I was already leaving with an item that might be related to the murder. Maybe it was an additional house key? Or maybe someone had dropped it years ago in that old window seat, and it didn’t mean anything to anyone? But the voice didn’t want me to tell. My thoughts raced as I battled with the secret. I shut my eyes and made my final decision. I was leaving the house with it. I pulled my coat closer to me as I walked down the sidewalk. I slowed my steps after my first slip. The snow was slick to walk on. I carefully passed more and more police, news reporters, camera crews, and others before I arrived at my car.
As I began to slide uncontrollably toward my door, a black gloved hand held me up.
“Whoops,” I yelled. “Thank you so much.” The gentleman was holding me up in his arms, and I felt as though I was at his mercy for some reason.
“You’re welcome.” His voice was low. I heard some sort of an accent, but I just wasn’t sure what it was. I looked up slowly to gaze into the prettiest brown eyes. They were the color of my favorite candy bar. They were large, offering a girl enough room to get lost in them on a rainy day. Heck, on any kind of day. His dark hair was wavy, windblown, and had hints of a white hair here and there. Mmm, I never was that fond of salt and pepper hair, but just these little touches looked good, well looked great on him.
He was still holding me up, when I stiffened and reached out my hand to my car door.
“Here, let me get you to the door.” He slowly pushed me closer and made sure I had safely made it inside the vehicle. “Have a good day, Ms--”
“O'Donohue, Charlotte.”
He smiled. His smile could very well melt every snowflake on my coat. In fact, I was warm all over. “Ah, O'Donohue, as in every O'Donohue in this blessed city?”
I nodded. I just didn’t have the ability to speak right now as he smiled again.
“And I suppose you all know everything about everyone just like a large Irish family should?”
I cleared my throat. Come on, get a hold of yourself. “We wouldn’t be Irish if we didn’t. We all know secrets, but we just tell only one person.”
He nodded knowingly. “And that person tells another, and before you know it, everyone in the world knows everything?”
I nodded again and smiled like some goofy teenager. “It seems as though you’ve caught on.”
“I’ve only been here a short time, but I catch on very quickly.” He looked toward the house and pointed. “I need to go in there.”
“Then I need to warn you that there are a couple of those O'Donohue men in there.”
“I bet I can guess which ones. One of them called me. It was nice to save you.”
Save me? Right, from the fall. He began to shut my door, but I braced my arm against it. “I didn’t get your name.”
He shook his head shyly, and smiled again. He seemingly thought that could distract me. “No, you didn’t. Sorry, occupational hazard. Be careful out there.” He closed my door very unceremoniously.
I watched him pull his coat’s lapels up around his neck. He shoved his hands inside his pockets and began to walk toward the house. He turned around once to look back at me. I smiled like an idiot just in case he could see that far. Then he disappeared into the structure. I also saw a curtain move in one of the windows on the third floor. Then I saw another curtain flowing freely on the second floor, but I also saw a shape, a dark form. The curtain was pulled back and then fluttered back into place. It was nothing, probably just a draft, wasn’t it? I was only lying to myself. I knew what I saw. The spirit haunting that house was very concerned with the man who was entering the old Taylor Club, but I was more intrigued by the stranger.
I bit my lip. “Who was that?”
Excerpt Five:
It wasn’t until Max had put on his coat and was heading out into the winter night that the judge stopped him at the door. I stood behind my dad for protection from the cold.
“You know, Max, I’ve learned over the years, that if a man has one secret, he probably has more. Those pesky little things can ruin a man if he’s open for blackmail. Luckily, for this family, we have no secrets. Have a good night. Come again.”
Max looked at my father in the most peculiar way. He looked as though he had been caught, and I saw a small amount of fear. He nodded, waved, and ran to his car.
Dad shut the door, and I hugged my father as tightly as I could. “Have I told you how much I love you? I don’t know what all that was about, but you scared him.”
He patted my back. “No, Charlotte, I just fired the first shot. He’ll be back.” Dad closed his eyes and held me tighter. “I love you too. I’ll do anything for you, even destroy a young man I used to love like a son. If I have to, I will."
It wasn’t until Max had put on his coat and was heading out into the winter night that the judge stopped him at the door. I stood behind my dad for protection from the cold.
“You know, Max, I’ve learned over the years, that if a man has one secret, he probably has more. Those pesky little things can ruin a man if he’s open for blackmail. Luckily, for this family, we have no secrets. Have a good night. Come again.”
Max looked at my father in the most peculiar way. He looked as though he had been caught, and I saw a small amount of fear. He nodded, waved, and ran to his car.
Dad shut the door, and I hugged my father as tightly as I could. “Have I told you how much I love you? I don’t know what all that was about, but you scared him.”
He patted my back. “No, Charlotte, I just fired the first shot. He’ll be back.” Dad closed his eyes and held me tighter. “I love you too. I’ll do anything for you, even destroy a young man I used to love like a son. If I have to, I will."
Excerpt Six:
As I made my plans for attack, the nagging thought of Max Shaw following me, or having someone follow me just wasn’t acceptable. I needed to get back into that house, but I didn’t have a key. Tom didn’t have a key. Gio did, but I had no way to contact him. Of course, the devil had a key. I would die before I’d ask him to borrow the duplicate to go back into that house. But, somehow, I knew the answers were in there. Maybe Rose could even tell me?
I paced back and forth from the living room to the kitchen. My mind raced with different thoughts including how Cynthia Martin had treated me at the funeral, as if she intentionally was trying to set me up. If she was being truthful, she did know her husband was having an affair. If both of the Martins were involved in some sort of criminal activity involving real estate, had they begun to turn on each other? Obviously, their trust of one another had begun to deteriorate. It was one thing when they cheated strangers out of their money and property, but when they began to cheat each other would and could they resort to murder?
There was no legal way to get my hands on their financial reports. Max had power to do that; I had nothing but speculation. It seemed that Max had all the power. He had a key. Max had a new grandfather, and I needed to borrow Gio for more details. There had to be more to this story, and more to this murder.
After a lost afternoon of pacing and nursing a headache, I noticed the sun was setting. I disliked how early it became dark in the winter, and today was no exception. That darkness fueled my foul mood. But I couldn’t feel sorry for myself. I’d brought this on my own head, but I refused to admit that to anyone. My phone rang and for a second I thought for some reason that it might be Max calling to apologize. No, it was Paddy.
“Charlie, get over here. We’re having pizza and beginning to assemble the float. I messaged you last week about it, but you never answered me.”
“I’ve been busy being a murder suspect.”
“Well, we could use one of those. Get your tush over here. Sean, Jane, Tom, and Meg are already here. Linda demands you come to protect her from the O'Donohue clan. You’re one of us, but she seems to think you are always on her side. I don’t get it.”
I got it. Linda and I had bonded from the moment she had walked through our front door. That, and she had me in her wedding as a flower girl. I always sided with her on everything, even those things I didn’t really agree with just to irritate the others. These days, Linda was the one person who reminded me the most of our own mother. She was calm in a storm and bitey when needed.
“Fine, but I’m not doing anything on the float tonight. I’ll eat pizza.
“Whatever, just get over here. We aren’t waiting on you to eat.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I answered as he hung up. He was in the process of yelling at Sean about some pot of gold and where it should go. Only in my family would that make sense.
Some of my first memories were of the annual Kansas City St. Patrick’s Day Parade. The O'Donohue family always participated, and Dad was one of the most public personalities. We even won a few awards over the years. I changed my sweatshirt, throwing on a warmer sweater. Paddy’s large garage wasn’t the warmest. I had no plans to be out there the entire time nailing chicken wire in place.
I parked my car behind Tom’s and headed into the house, but something caught my eye at the end of the driveway. It was a blue Jaguar. What the bloody--
As I made my plans for attack, the nagging thought of Max Shaw following me, or having someone follow me just wasn’t acceptable. I needed to get back into that house, but I didn’t have a key. Tom didn’t have a key. Gio did, but I had no way to contact him. Of course, the devil had a key. I would die before I’d ask him to borrow the duplicate to go back into that house. But, somehow, I knew the answers were in there. Maybe Rose could even tell me?
I paced back and forth from the living room to the kitchen. My mind raced with different thoughts including how Cynthia Martin had treated me at the funeral, as if she intentionally was trying to set me up. If she was being truthful, she did know her husband was having an affair. If both of the Martins were involved in some sort of criminal activity involving real estate, had they begun to turn on each other? Obviously, their trust of one another had begun to deteriorate. It was one thing when they cheated strangers out of their money and property, but when they began to cheat each other would and could they resort to murder?
There was no legal way to get my hands on their financial reports. Max had power to do that; I had nothing but speculation. It seemed that Max had all the power. He had a key. Max had a new grandfather, and I needed to borrow Gio for more details. There had to be more to this story, and more to this murder.
After a lost afternoon of pacing and nursing a headache, I noticed the sun was setting. I disliked how early it became dark in the winter, and today was no exception. That darkness fueled my foul mood. But I couldn’t feel sorry for myself. I’d brought this on my own head, but I refused to admit that to anyone. My phone rang and for a second I thought for some reason that it might be Max calling to apologize. No, it was Paddy.
“Charlie, get over here. We’re having pizza and beginning to assemble the float. I messaged you last week about it, but you never answered me.”
“I’ve been busy being a murder suspect.”
“Well, we could use one of those. Get your tush over here. Sean, Jane, Tom, and Meg are already here. Linda demands you come to protect her from the O'Donohue clan. You’re one of us, but she seems to think you are always on her side. I don’t get it.”
I got it. Linda and I had bonded from the moment she had walked through our front door. That, and she had me in her wedding as a flower girl. I always sided with her on everything, even those things I didn’t really agree with just to irritate the others. These days, Linda was the one person who reminded me the most of our own mother. She was calm in a storm and bitey when needed.
“Fine, but I’m not doing anything on the float tonight. I’ll eat pizza.
“Whatever, just get over here. We aren’t waiting on you to eat.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I answered as he hung up. He was in the process of yelling at Sean about some pot of gold and where it should go. Only in my family would that make sense.
Some of my first memories were of the annual Kansas City St. Patrick’s Day Parade. The O'Donohue family always participated, and Dad was one of the most public personalities. We even won a few awards over the years. I changed my sweatshirt, throwing on a warmer sweater. Paddy’s large garage wasn’t the warmest. I had no plans to be out there the entire time nailing chicken wire in place.
I parked my car behind Tom’s and headed into the house, but something caught my eye at the end of the driveway. It was a blue Jaguar. What the bloody--
Excerpt Seven:
“I’ve been busy being a murder suspect.”
“Well, we could use one of those. Get your tush over here. Sean, Jane, Tom, and Meg are already here. Linda demands you come to protect her from the O'Donohue clan. You’re one of us, but she seems to think you are always on her side. I don’t get it.”
I got it. Linda and I had bonded from the moment she had walked through our front door. That, and she had me in her wedding as a flower girl. I always sided with her on everything, even those things I didn’t really agree with just to irritate the others. These days, Linda was the one person who reminded me the most of our own mother. She was calm in a storm and bitey when needed.
“Fine, but I’m not doing anything on the float tonight. I’ll eat pizza.
“Whatever, just get over here. We aren’t waiting on you to eat.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I answered as he hung up. He was in the process of yelling at Sean about some pot of gold and where it should go. Only in my family would that make sense.
Some of my first memories were of the annual Kansas City St. Patrick’s Day Parade. The O'Donohue family always participated, and Dad was one of the most public personalities. We even won a few awards over the years. I changed my sweatshirt, throwing on a warmer sweater. Paddy’s large garage wasn’t the warmest. I had no plans to be out there the entire time nailing chicken wire in place.
I parked my car behind Tom’s and headed into the house, but something caught my eye at the end of the driveway. It was a blue Jaguar. What the bloody--
“I’ve been busy being a murder suspect.”
“Well, we could use one of those. Get your tush over here. Sean, Jane, Tom, and Meg are already here. Linda demands you come to protect her from the O'Donohue clan. You’re one of us, but she seems to think you are always on her side. I don’t get it.”
I got it. Linda and I had bonded from the moment she had walked through our front door. That, and she had me in her wedding as a flower girl. I always sided with her on everything, even those things I didn’t really agree with just to irritate the others. These days, Linda was the one person who reminded me the most of our own mother. She was calm in a storm and bitey when needed.
“Fine, but I’m not doing anything on the float tonight. I’ll eat pizza.
“Whatever, just get over here. We aren’t waiting on you to eat.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I answered as he hung up. He was in the process of yelling at Sean about some pot of gold and where it should go. Only in my family would that make sense.
Some of my first memories were of the annual Kansas City St. Patrick’s Day Parade. The O'Donohue family always participated, and Dad was one of the most public personalities. We even won a few awards over the years. I changed my sweatshirt, throwing on a warmer sweater. Paddy’s large garage wasn’t the warmest. I had no plans to be out there the entire time nailing chicken wire in place.
I parked my car behind Tom’s and headed into the house, but something caught my eye at the end of the driveway. It was a blue Jaguar. What the bloody--
Excerpt Eight:
“Dad, don’t you dare. I mean it.” I held out my hand as I demanded his jacket. He shrugged and began to remove it. “And I will need those boots too.”
He made some sort of a noise of disgust and shuffled into the living room to sit down. Slowly, glaring at me occasionally, he pulled them off.
“They’ll be too big for you. It will never work.”
I grabbed them quickly and pulled them on. “I have very thick socks on. It’ll be fine. In fact, this will work out better than if you went out there.”
He slumped back into his favorite chair and watched me prepare for the outside elements. “I don’t know how this works out better. What does that even mean, dear girl?”
I finished zipping up the heavy coat and pulled his cap out of the pocket.
“It means Jane won’t kill me for allowing you to shovel. I’m saving myself and you too.” I smiled sweetly at my ingenuity.
He laughed loudly and pointed. “That’s clever, but what’s so funny is how you look right now.”
I answered with a toothy smile. “I’m choosing to ignore that. I’ll be back.”
“You look like that cartoon character Elmer,” Dad shouted.
I saw myself in the hall mirror before I headed out into the winter wonderland. Of course, my father was correct. I did look like the cartoon character as he went hunting for “wabbits”. Who cares? It wasn’t like I was going to meet the love of my life out there.
As I made a path down the few steps and onto the sidewalk, the snow was heavier than I expected. Why did it always look so pretty as you were drinking by the fire? The reality was setting in very quickly that I needed to encourage my cheap father to hire someone to do this for him. Maybe I needed to take him to buy a snow blower?
Knowing that the city sidewalk had to be cleared within a certain amount of hours, I trudged my way there first. I’d work my way back to the house. Yes, being a judge’s daughter meant you knew a lot of little quirky ordinances, some were real and some Dad just made up to scare us to death. The boys were all especially afraid of some law that included placing the toilet seat down, and what materials you could take into a bathroom with you. Ironically, that was the first “law” they looked up when they were old enough to know better.
I began to put my hips and back into it. In a matter of minutes I realized I wasn’t visiting the gym nearly enough. I’d cleared a few feet of snow and came closer to the street. The plows had already been through leaving a three feet high white stack of hardened snow in their wake. I wasn’t going to touch that monster. On the street, some of the solid precipitation had transformed into black slush from the anti icing application applied. With the sun hitting the surface of the streets, at least a few of them might be passable by tonight. Of course, they would refreeze with the dropping temperatures, and we’d be back to square one tomorrow morning. Oh, the life of living the winter months in Kansas City!
And exactly why was I still here? I was the one who would move to Florida and be some big attorney down there. I knew exactly why I hadn’t followed that dream. Death had entered our lives and changed everything. I leaned on the shovel and looked back at the house, at my home.
As I thought about why my life was still here, and frankly took a breather from the shoveling, I heard a car racing down the street. I turned my head to see what fool was driving that fast on a residential, ice and snow covered street, and that’s when a wave of ice and black snow pelted my face.
“Oh my Lord! You did not just do that,” I screamed out loud as I wiped my face with Dad’s coat sleeve. “Un freaking believable.”
The car slowed down and stopped in the middle of the street. It began to reverse until it was even with where I stood. I moved my shovel to use it as a weapon.
“Dad, don’t you dare. I mean it.” I held out my hand as I demanded his jacket. He shrugged and began to remove it. “And I will need those boots too.”
He made some sort of a noise of disgust and shuffled into the living room to sit down. Slowly, glaring at me occasionally, he pulled them off.
“They’ll be too big for you. It will never work.”
I grabbed them quickly and pulled them on. “I have very thick socks on. It’ll be fine. In fact, this will work out better than if you went out there.”
He slumped back into his favorite chair and watched me prepare for the outside elements. “I don’t know how this works out better. What does that even mean, dear girl?”
I finished zipping up the heavy coat and pulled his cap out of the pocket.
“It means Jane won’t kill me for allowing you to shovel. I’m saving myself and you too.” I smiled sweetly at my ingenuity.
He laughed loudly and pointed. “That’s clever, but what’s so funny is how you look right now.”
I answered with a toothy smile. “I’m choosing to ignore that. I’ll be back.”
“You look like that cartoon character Elmer,” Dad shouted.
I saw myself in the hall mirror before I headed out into the winter wonderland. Of course, my father was correct. I did look like the cartoon character as he went hunting for “wabbits”. Who cares? It wasn’t like I was going to meet the love of my life out there.
As I made a path down the few steps and onto the sidewalk, the snow was heavier than I expected. Why did it always look so pretty as you were drinking by the fire? The reality was setting in very quickly that I needed to encourage my cheap father to hire someone to do this for him. Maybe I needed to take him to buy a snow blower?
Knowing that the city sidewalk had to be cleared within a certain amount of hours, I trudged my way there first. I’d work my way back to the house. Yes, being a judge’s daughter meant you knew a lot of little quirky ordinances, some were real and some Dad just made up to scare us to death. The boys were all especially afraid of some law that included placing the toilet seat down, and what materials you could take into a bathroom with you. Ironically, that was the first “law” they looked up when they were old enough to know better.
I began to put my hips and back into it. In a matter of minutes I realized I wasn’t visiting the gym nearly enough. I’d cleared a few feet of snow and came closer to the street. The plows had already been through leaving a three feet high white stack of hardened snow in their wake. I wasn’t going to touch that monster. On the street, some of the solid precipitation had transformed into black slush from the anti icing application applied. With the sun hitting the surface of the streets, at least a few of them might be passable by tonight. Of course, they would refreeze with the dropping temperatures, and we’d be back to square one tomorrow morning. Oh, the life of living the winter months in Kansas City!
And exactly why was I still here? I was the one who would move to Florida and be some big attorney down there. I knew exactly why I hadn’t followed that dream. Death had entered our lives and changed everything. I leaned on the shovel and looked back at the house, at my home.
As I thought about why my life was still here, and frankly took a breather from the shoveling, I heard a car racing down the street. I turned my head to see what fool was driving that fast on a residential, ice and snow covered street, and that’s when a wave of ice and black snow pelted my face.
“Oh my Lord! You did not just do that,” I screamed out loud as I wiped my face with Dad’s coat sleeve. “Un freaking believable.”
The car slowed down and stopped in the middle of the street. It began to reverse until it was even with where I stood. I moved my shovel to use it as a weapon.
Excerpt Nine:
The window rolled down slowly to reveal a man in sunglasses.
“I’m so sorry.”
I pointed the shovel at him. “Well, you should be. What the hell were you doing driving that fast?”
“I’m late. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be. Can I clean the coat for you?”
I shook my head. “No. Just slow it down, buddy.”
The man looked up at the house and then at me. “Judge O'Donohue still lives here, doesn’t he?”
I didn’t say anything as I continued to wipe the gunk from my eyes. When we were kids, Dad and Mom instilled in us the fear of God, frankly the fear of just about everyone we didn’t know. While I was in high school, Dad was the judge on the trial of members of a syndicate. He didn’t speak of the three-months long case, and we were warned not to speak to anyone, especially strangers.
I surveyed the car. It was a midnight blue Jaguar. Who drove a Jag in the snow? I guess I could tell him the truth and then memorize the plate number? Sure, why not?
As if he knew I was struggling to respond, he removed his sunglasses. “I’ve known him a long time. I just wanted to make sure I knew where the house was. I’ll be joining him for dinner on Saturday.”
Holy Mother of God! It was him. It was the knight of saving my butt! Crap. I look like a cartoon character.
“Yes, he still lives here.” I had no other words. Obviously, he didn’t recognize me from yesterday’s murder site. Good. When I met him at dinner, I would lie and tell him we had hired some neighbor kid to shovel the snow.
“Good. Again, I’m sorry about the snow. Take care.” He placed his sunglasses on his face, his window went up, and he was gone in a few seconds. I leaned my head down on the shovel.
I sure do hope he buys the story about the neighbor kid!
The window rolled down slowly to reveal a man in sunglasses.
“I’m so sorry.”
I pointed the shovel at him. “Well, you should be. What the hell were you doing driving that fast?”
“I’m late. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be. Can I clean the coat for you?”
I shook my head. “No. Just slow it down, buddy.”
The man looked up at the house and then at me. “Judge O'Donohue still lives here, doesn’t he?”
I didn’t say anything as I continued to wipe the gunk from my eyes. When we were kids, Dad and Mom instilled in us the fear of God, frankly the fear of just about everyone we didn’t know. While I was in high school, Dad was the judge on the trial of members of a syndicate. He didn’t speak of the three-months long case, and we were warned not to speak to anyone, especially strangers.
I surveyed the car. It was a midnight blue Jaguar. Who drove a Jag in the snow? I guess I could tell him the truth and then memorize the plate number? Sure, why not?
As if he knew I was struggling to respond, he removed his sunglasses. “I’ve known him a long time. I just wanted to make sure I knew where the house was. I’ll be joining him for dinner on Saturday.”
Holy Mother of God! It was him. It was the knight of saving my butt! Crap. I look like a cartoon character.
“Yes, he still lives here.” I had no other words. Obviously, he didn’t recognize me from yesterday’s murder site. Good. When I met him at dinner, I would lie and tell him we had hired some neighbor kid to shovel the snow.
“Good. Again, I’m sorry about the snow. Take care.” He placed his sunglasses on his face, his window went up, and he was gone in a few seconds. I leaned my head down on the shovel.
I sure do hope he buys the story about the neighbor kid!
Excerpt Ten:
I survived the lengthy interrogation, supposedly a statement about the murder, but it was certainly a questioning of the “gotcha” format. They even made me go downtown to walk through the building almost like a “perp walk”, meet with a Detective Marino, and flee out of the building feeling frazzled and befuddled, and every other word that describes sheer hell.
Along the way, my legal representation was greeted by many who missed him in court. We ran into many of his old friends. Dad was definitely in his element. Then we ran into Paddy. My own brother pretended to not even notice me. Dad and he talked briefly in the hallway, and I slumped against a wall as I perfected my talent of invisibility. Over the years, I’d become very good at blending in and going unnoticed. During the lunch after Conor’s death, no one saw me sitting in the corner for over an hour. I liked being the wallflower; attention only made me aware of my flaws and insecurities.
My voice was weak and wavering after thirty minutes of time-sensitive questions. Finally, my father tapped his hand on the table in front of us.
“Detective, let’s make this easy for you. Tom and Charlotte O'Donohue were the man’s realtors. Charlotte clearly had a meeting set up with Mr. Martin that morning. There is proof she called her brother on her way there. It was beginning to snow. Mr. Martin’s car was parked in the lot before her arrival. The door was locked. She went in and discovered the man’s body. What more do you want?”
The detective coolly searched through the file folder in front of him. “What about the rose he gave you?”
“No, the rose was on the mantle when I arrived. He didn’t give me a rose.”
“Did he ever give you flowers?”
I survived the lengthy interrogation, supposedly a statement about the murder, but it was certainly a questioning of the “gotcha” format. They even made me go downtown to walk through the building almost like a “perp walk”, meet with a Detective Marino, and flee out of the building feeling frazzled and befuddled, and every other word that describes sheer hell.
Along the way, my legal representation was greeted by many who missed him in court. We ran into many of his old friends. Dad was definitely in his element. Then we ran into Paddy. My own brother pretended to not even notice me. Dad and he talked briefly in the hallway, and I slumped against a wall as I perfected my talent of invisibility. Over the years, I’d become very good at blending in and going unnoticed. During the lunch after Conor’s death, no one saw me sitting in the corner for over an hour. I liked being the wallflower; attention only made me aware of my flaws and insecurities.
My voice was weak and wavering after thirty minutes of time-sensitive questions. Finally, my father tapped his hand on the table in front of us.
“Detective, let’s make this easy for you. Tom and Charlotte O'Donohue were the man’s realtors. Charlotte clearly had a meeting set up with Mr. Martin that morning. There is proof she called her brother on her way there. It was beginning to snow. Mr. Martin’s car was parked in the lot before her arrival. The door was locked. She went in and discovered the man’s body. What more do you want?”
The detective coolly searched through the file folder in front of him. “What about the rose he gave you?”
“No, the rose was on the mantle when I arrived. He didn’t give me a rose.”
“Did he ever give you flowers?”
Excerpt Eleven:
“Did he ever give you flowers?”
My father’s hand slammed down on the wood. “There wasn’t anything going on between them except for the sale of a house. Drop it.”
The detective placed a piece of paper in front of Dad. “Why do I have a receipt for flowers delivered to Ms. Charlotte O'Donohue from the victim?”
I was incensed. “He was thanking us for finding the house for his family.”
My father looked over the receipt and handed it back to the interrogator. “Come on. He was thanking her.”
“But he singled her out. He didn’t send the flowers to the office, or to Tom O'Donohue. He sent them to her, to her house. That seems pretty intimate.”
“It was the holidays. He knew the office was closed,” I admitted. “Besides, I was home sick with a stomach bug. He knew because Tom had to take the previous tour with him because I wasn’t feeling well.”
“Then why were you there with him that morning?” He was definitely laser-focused on pinning this on me.
“I told you. We were meeting one more time, and I was making sure that he understood the surrounding residents were fine with the structure being a single family home, but if he had any ideas about turning it into a club again, a gallery, or bed and breakfast it wasn’t zoned for that. You can check with Councilman Johnson,” I insisted.
The detective turned over a couple more of the papers in front of him. Finally, he pushed back from the desk. My father patted my hand and whispered that everything would be okay. But then it wasn’t.
“Ms. O'Donohue, when was your last relationship?”
“What?” My face was possibly as red as the mysterious rose.
My father stood up quickly and packed his old briefcase. “We are done now. Come on, Charlotte.”
“We think it’s relevant in this case.”
“Did he ever give you flowers?”
My father’s hand slammed down on the wood. “There wasn’t anything going on between them except for the sale of a house. Drop it.”
The detective placed a piece of paper in front of Dad. “Why do I have a receipt for flowers delivered to Ms. Charlotte O'Donohue from the victim?”
I was incensed. “He was thanking us for finding the house for his family.”
My father looked over the receipt and handed it back to the interrogator. “Come on. He was thanking her.”
“But he singled her out. He didn’t send the flowers to the office, or to Tom O'Donohue. He sent them to her, to her house. That seems pretty intimate.”
“It was the holidays. He knew the office was closed,” I admitted. “Besides, I was home sick with a stomach bug. He knew because Tom had to take the previous tour with him because I wasn’t feeling well.”
“Then why were you there with him that morning?” He was definitely laser-focused on pinning this on me.
“I told you. We were meeting one more time, and I was making sure that he understood the surrounding residents were fine with the structure being a single family home, but if he had any ideas about turning it into a club again, a gallery, or bed and breakfast it wasn’t zoned for that. You can check with Councilman Johnson,” I insisted.
The detective turned over a couple more of the papers in front of him. Finally, he pushed back from the desk. My father patted my hand and whispered that everything would be okay. But then it wasn’t.
“Ms. O'Donohue, when was your last relationship?”
“What?” My face was possibly as red as the mysterious rose.
My father stood up quickly and packed his old briefcase. “We are done now. Come on, Charlotte.”
“We think it’s relevant in this case.”
Excerpt Twelve:
“You are going to have company in a few minutes. Don’t worry, and for heaven’s sake, please do not say anything, good or bad.” His tone made my skin crawl.
“Dad, just tell me.” My voice was barely audible.
“The police have a search warrant for your house. You know the drill. Just let them in and step back. Go where they tell you to go. Do everything they say. I’ll be there as soon as I can, and I’ll call Tom and update him. I’ll be there.” He hung up on me.
I stood in the middle of my kitchen shaking and holding my phone. When there was a sudden knock at the door, I jumped.
The pounding became harder as I made my way to the front hallway. I saw several large figures. As I unlocked the door, I could see the police uniforms and Detective Marino with a paper in his hand.
I could hear my heart beat out of my chest as I faced them.
“You are going to have company in a few minutes. Don’t worry, and for heaven’s sake, please do not say anything, good or bad.” His tone made my skin crawl.
“Dad, just tell me.” My voice was barely audible.
“The police have a search warrant for your house. You know the drill. Just let them in and step back. Go where they tell you to go. Do everything they say. I’ll be there as soon as I can, and I’ll call Tom and update him. I’ll be there.” He hung up on me.
I stood in the middle of my kitchen shaking and holding my phone. When there was a sudden knock at the door, I jumped.
The pounding became harder as I made my way to the front hallway. I saw several large figures. As I unlocked the door, I could see the police uniforms and Detective Marino with a paper in his hand.
I could hear my heart beat out of my chest as I faced them.
Excerpt Thirteen:
I could hear my heart beat out of my chest as I faced them. I needed to stay cool.
“Ms. Charlotte R. O'Donohue, we have a warrant to search your house, lot, car, and every item within those areas and associated premises. Please step back and allow us to enter.” He handed me the document. The swarm entered, tracking in snow and muck from the yard. I looked out to see more police cars arriving. They headed to the backyard. The neighbors would definitely bring this up at the summer block party…if I could attend and not phone in from jail.
I was still standing in the hallway with my back plastered against the wall when Max walked through my doorway. He closed the door and leaned against the opposite wall.
He had the audacity to smile. “Charlie, just remember to breathe. It will be over soon. I promise.”
He looked every bit the devil that he was. He was dressed in black from his shoes to that beautifully tailored overcoat. He folded his black-gloved hands in front of him. Black was a good color for him, and for funerals. Sadly, I thought I was attending my own wake. I tried to breathe, but I was breathless. It wasn’t because of him and his charm anymore. I was building up an immunity to his good looks. I’d taken an examination of my feelings toward Max and had decided I was attending far too many bridal and baby showers. Hormonal flutters were tapped down when you were facing prison time.
I said nothing to him. He continued to examine me. Did he want me to break? I had nothing to hide.
Detective Marino stepped in front of our stare-off. “Ms. O'Donohue, I need the keys to your car, your purse, and your laptop. They’re all included in the warrant.” He held out his hand.
I looked down and around my body. “I don’t have any of those items on me. May I get them for you?”
Max nodded at the detective, and then the detective agreed. Marino was Max’s lapdog! Max was the puppetmaster of this event. I nodded just for fun and walked into the kitchen with my shadow. Handing my phone off to him, I then grabbed my purse and laptop and placed them on the kitchen counter. “Oh, and my car and house keys are in my purse. Have fun.” Dad didn’t say I had to make it easy on them.
I didn’t wait to see his reaction as I stomped off. I returned to the hallway and saw Max sitting in my living room. “Why don’t you join me while they do their job?” He extended his hand out to invite me to sit in my own house.
I thought I couldn’t commit murder, but perhaps I could? I wanted to kill him right now. Our mother could scare you to death with just one look. Did I have that talent? Instead, I looked around to search for implements of destruction. There was a fireplace poker. That would do the trick, and it would leave a dent in that hard head of his. Instead of doing the deed, I plopped down on my own couch and began to look over the papers in my hands. When I looked up, we began our contest of who could stare at each other the longest.
“I’m sure they won’t find anything,” Max commented as he removed his gloves and placed them on my coffee table. He was certainly making himself right at home, in my home. What was the most infuriating was the notion that he looked more comfortable in my home than I did.
I could hear my heart beat out of my chest as I faced them. I needed to stay cool.
“Ms. Charlotte R. O'Donohue, we have a warrant to search your house, lot, car, and every item within those areas and associated premises. Please step back and allow us to enter.” He handed me the document. The swarm entered, tracking in snow and muck from the yard. I looked out to see more police cars arriving. They headed to the backyard. The neighbors would definitely bring this up at the summer block party…if I could attend and not phone in from jail.
I was still standing in the hallway with my back plastered against the wall when Max walked through my doorway. He closed the door and leaned against the opposite wall.
He had the audacity to smile. “Charlie, just remember to breathe. It will be over soon. I promise.”
He looked every bit the devil that he was. He was dressed in black from his shoes to that beautifully tailored overcoat. He folded his black-gloved hands in front of him. Black was a good color for him, and for funerals. Sadly, I thought I was attending my own wake. I tried to breathe, but I was breathless. It wasn’t because of him and his charm anymore. I was building up an immunity to his good looks. I’d taken an examination of my feelings toward Max and had decided I was attending far too many bridal and baby showers. Hormonal flutters were tapped down when you were facing prison time.
I said nothing to him. He continued to examine me. Did he want me to break? I had nothing to hide.
Detective Marino stepped in front of our stare-off. “Ms. O'Donohue, I need the keys to your car, your purse, and your laptop. They’re all included in the warrant.” He held out his hand.
I looked down and around my body. “I don’t have any of those items on me. May I get them for you?”
Max nodded at the detective, and then the detective agreed. Marino was Max’s lapdog! Max was the puppetmaster of this event. I nodded just for fun and walked into the kitchen with my shadow. Handing my phone off to him, I then grabbed my purse and laptop and placed them on the kitchen counter. “Oh, and my car and house keys are in my purse. Have fun.” Dad didn’t say I had to make it easy on them.
I didn’t wait to see his reaction as I stomped off. I returned to the hallway and saw Max sitting in my living room. “Why don’t you join me while they do their job?” He extended his hand out to invite me to sit in my own house.
I thought I couldn’t commit murder, but perhaps I could? I wanted to kill him right now. Our mother could scare you to death with just one look. Did I have that talent? Instead, I looked around to search for implements of destruction. There was a fireplace poker. That would do the trick, and it would leave a dent in that hard head of his. Instead of doing the deed, I plopped down on my own couch and began to look over the papers in my hands. When I looked up, we began our contest of who could stare at each other the longest.
“I’m sure they won’t find anything,” Max commented as he removed his gloves and placed them on my coffee table. He was certainly making himself right at home, in my home. What was the most infuriating was the notion that he looked more comfortable in my home than I did.
Excerpt Fourteen:
I said nothing. It was only a few minutes before my father rushed into the room. He hadn’t even shaved or combed his hair yet this morning.
“Mr. Shaw, could I see the warrant and the affidavit?” He directed his question to Max. When I was a little girl, I never knew what my brothers’ friends' names were. In fact, I’d made up nicknames for all of them. My name for Max had been Poop Head. I was a little girl, afterall. Most of my names weren’t exactly Shakespearean.
Max pointed toward me, and I handed my dad the papers. He sat down next to me on the couch and began to study the document. He looked up occasionally at the younger attorney across from him. Then my father pulled out his glasses. Crap, it was serious when he did that. “Judge Symones signed off on this?” Dad asked.
Max only nodded. My entire life was in jeopardy, and he just nodded. For what seemed like an eternity, Max and I continued to play our stare and avoid game while Dad read. Eventually, he placed his glasses and the papers onto the coffee table in front of us. He folded his arms over his still buttoned coat and sighed. Just sighed.
“You are looking for a murder weapon. My daughter doesn’t even know how the man died.”
Max’s left brow rose. He stopped looking at me and focused on the judge. “Doesn’t she?”
Dad turned his attention to me. “Charlotte, did you see a weapon near Mr. Martin last week?”
“No, and he was lying on his chest. His head was turned to the left. I knew he was dead. I know what death looks like.” Dad winced. He knew too. We knew the coloring; we knew the smell; we knew the loss.
“Did you move the body to see how he died?”
“No. I checked his pulse, but that’s all. In fact, I left the area and called the police immediately,” I answered my father.
Max leaned his arm on the bolster of the chair and leaned his head up against his hand. He appeared to have a headache. Good. I hope it is a really good one! But of course, the headache was a retired federal judge. And that’s when I remembered how I knew the name Shaw. When I was a little girl, Dad had a very dear friend who used to be an FBI agent. He eventually moved to Washington, D.C. and became the head of the agency. Max’s dad was FBI Chief Edward Shaw. Dad talked to him over the Christmas holidays.
“Did you ever go back to the body?” Dad questioned again.
“No,” I answered emphatically, but did I? The fog of uncertainty from so many questions began to mist my memory.
“Was the house locked when you entered?” Dad just kept the questions coming.
“Yes. I didn’t understand though. Mr. Martin’s car was parked there, and it looked like it had been for some time. I unlocked the door. How did he get in?” I began to search my memory for more details.
I said nothing. It was only a few minutes before my father rushed into the room. He hadn’t even shaved or combed his hair yet this morning.
“Mr. Shaw, could I see the warrant and the affidavit?” He directed his question to Max. When I was a little girl, I never knew what my brothers’ friends' names were. In fact, I’d made up nicknames for all of them. My name for Max had been Poop Head. I was a little girl, afterall. Most of my names weren’t exactly Shakespearean.
Max pointed toward me, and I handed my dad the papers. He sat down next to me on the couch and began to study the document. He looked up occasionally at the younger attorney across from him. Then my father pulled out his glasses. Crap, it was serious when he did that. “Judge Symones signed off on this?” Dad asked.
Max only nodded. My entire life was in jeopardy, and he just nodded. For what seemed like an eternity, Max and I continued to play our stare and avoid game while Dad read. Eventually, he placed his glasses and the papers onto the coffee table in front of us. He folded his arms over his still buttoned coat and sighed. Just sighed.
“You are looking for a murder weapon. My daughter doesn’t even know how the man died.”
Max’s left brow rose. He stopped looking at me and focused on the judge. “Doesn’t she?”
Dad turned his attention to me. “Charlotte, did you see a weapon near Mr. Martin last week?”
“No, and he was lying on his chest. His head was turned to the left. I knew he was dead. I know what death looks like.” Dad winced. He knew too. We knew the coloring; we knew the smell; we knew the loss.
“Did you move the body to see how he died?”
“No. I checked his pulse, but that’s all. In fact, I left the area and called the police immediately,” I answered my father.
Max leaned his arm on the bolster of the chair and leaned his head up against his hand. He appeared to have a headache. Good. I hope it is a really good one! But of course, the headache was a retired federal judge. And that’s when I remembered how I knew the name Shaw. When I was a little girl, Dad had a very dear friend who used to be an FBI agent. He eventually moved to Washington, D.C. and became the head of the agency. Max’s dad was FBI Chief Edward Shaw. Dad talked to him over the Christmas holidays.
“Did you ever go back to the body?” Dad questioned again.
“No,” I answered emphatically, but did I? The fog of uncertainty from so many questions began to mist my memory.
“Was the house locked when you entered?” Dad just kept the questions coming.
“Yes. I didn’t understand though. Mr. Martin’s car was parked there, and it looked like it had been for some time. I unlocked the door. How did he get in?” I began to search my memory for more details.
Excerpt Fifteen:
True to his word, Max Shaw stood outside my house at six in the evening, holding all of my worldly work possessions. I greeted him at the door, still in my pajamas and fuzzy slippers. I opened the door, then shuffled into the living room to plop my body in the chair he had sat in that very morning.
Max placed all of my things on the coffee table, and then without asking, he took a seat across from me on my couch. “We have everything we need, and thank you for your cooperation.”
“Uh huh.”
“I’m just searching for the truth.”
“Uh huh.”
I began to chew on one of my fingernails. It was a nasty habit that I long since had abandoned, but today seemed a good time to pick it up again, especially in front of the federal attorney.
“Charlotte, I’m really sorry, and this time answer me.” His tone was a little louder and much more demanding.
I stopped slumping, sitting erect in my chair. We were staring at each other again. I knew what I was looking at, but I wondered what he was seeing. I looked absolutely awful with my medium-length hair pulled into two ponytails on either side of my ears. My makeup was nonexistent. My pajamas were baggy, hiding any form I did have. I didn’t even have a bra on. Usually, I would never allow a man to see me this way, but who really cared? I didn’t. Obviously, he didn’t either.
“What exactly do you want me to say, Mr. Shaw?”
He ran his hand through his hair and clenched his hands together in front of him. He looked as though he was praying.
“I don’t want you to take this all personally.”
If I had been drinking something, I would’ve choked. “You must be kidding! How should I feel? I’m not happy about any of this. You think I killed a man. Your detective thinks I was fooling around with my client, a married man. You think I’m holding something back.” I snapped my mouth shut. I hadn’t told anyone about the key. I was holding something back.
“Did you ever think that by doing everything by the book, I’ll prove you innocent?”
I shook my head. “So now you’re doing me a favor? I am innocent, Poop Head!”
That broke the ice. He looked as shocked as I felt. We both broke out in laughter.
“Gee, I’ve missed that so much,” Max kidded. “You were so cute when you were little.” It was then that he finally examined my look. He burst into laughter again, pointing at my pajamas. “What the heck are those?”
“Birth control?”
True to his word, Max Shaw stood outside my house at six in the evening, holding all of my worldly work possessions. I greeted him at the door, still in my pajamas and fuzzy slippers. I opened the door, then shuffled into the living room to plop my body in the chair he had sat in that very morning.
Max placed all of my things on the coffee table, and then without asking, he took a seat across from me on my couch. “We have everything we need, and thank you for your cooperation.”
“Uh huh.”
“I’m just searching for the truth.”
“Uh huh.”
I began to chew on one of my fingernails. It was a nasty habit that I long since had abandoned, but today seemed a good time to pick it up again, especially in front of the federal attorney.
“Charlotte, I’m really sorry, and this time answer me.” His tone was a little louder and much more demanding.
I stopped slumping, sitting erect in my chair. We were staring at each other again. I knew what I was looking at, but I wondered what he was seeing. I looked absolutely awful with my medium-length hair pulled into two ponytails on either side of my ears. My makeup was nonexistent. My pajamas were baggy, hiding any form I did have. I didn’t even have a bra on. Usually, I would never allow a man to see me this way, but who really cared? I didn’t. Obviously, he didn’t either.
“What exactly do you want me to say, Mr. Shaw?”
He ran his hand through his hair and clenched his hands together in front of him. He looked as though he was praying.
“I don’t want you to take this all personally.”
If I had been drinking something, I would’ve choked. “You must be kidding! How should I feel? I’m not happy about any of this. You think I killed a man. Your detective thinks I was fooling around with my client, a married man. You think I’m holding something back.” I snapped my mouth shut. I hadn’t told anyone about the key. I was holding something back.
“Did you ever think that by doing everything by the book, I’ll prove you innocent?”
I shook my head. “So now you’re doing me a favor? I am innocent, Poop Head!”
That broke the ice. He looked as shocked as I felt. We both broke out in laughter.
“Gee, I’ve missed that so much,” Max kidded. “You were so cute when you were little.” It was then that he finally examined my look. He burst into laughter again, pointing at my pajamas. “What the heck are those?”
“Birth control?”
Excerpt Sixteen:
It was then that he finally examined my look. He burst into laughter again, pointing at my pajamas. “What the heck are those?”
“Birth control?”
He wiped away a few tears. “Yep, that outfit would certainly slow down a romantic night with me. Slow down, but not prevent.” He stopped laughing. He focused on my face. I was focused on his lips. How had I not noticed those luscious lips? Stop. He wasn’t the man I originally thought he was. He was not a knight in shining armor. He was a devil in a black overcoat.
He stood up quickly. “I should leave, and let you get back to whatever you’ve been doing. Again, thank you for your cooperation, Ms. O'Donohue.”
I stood up too. I wanted to make sure he made it to the door without searching my hallway for guns. “Not my pleasure, Mr. Shaw.”
He grimaced and headed to the door. Before he turned to leave, he smiled. “You know, on second look, those pajamas might just--” He stopped and lowered his voice. “Take care, Charlotte.”
It was then that he finally examined my look. He burst into laughter again, pointing at my pajamas. “What the heck are those?”
“Birth control?”
He wiped away a few tears. “Yep, that outfit would certainly slow down a romantic night with me. Slow down, but not prevent.” He stopped laughing. He focused on my face. I was focused on his lips. How had I not noticed those luscious lips? Stop. He wasn’t the man I originally thought he was. He was not a knight in shining armor. He was a devil in a black overcoat.
He stood up quickly. “I should leave, and let you get back to whatever you’ve been doing. Again, thank you for your cooperation, Ms. O'Donohue.”
I stood up too. I wanted to make sure he made it to the door without searching my hallway for guns. “Not my pleasure, Mr. Shaw.”
He grimaced and headed to the door. Before he turned to leave, he smiled. “You know, on second look, those pajamas might just--” He stopped and lowered his voice. “Take care, Charlotte.”