Jessica Huntington Desert Cities Mysteries - Books 1-5 Presented by Anna Celeste Burke!

 

Series--5 of 7

“What do you say, Peter? Can we do it?” “Commercial flights are booked until tomorrow morning, at the earliest. I found four seats on a flight leaving LAX at 6 a.m. which ought to get us in before 9 a.m.” 

“No! We’ve all got to go so when we find Frank he knows we all love him.” Tommy was beginning to flush and his eyes filled with tears. “Do something, Jessica!” “I can check on a charter, but that usually requires a little notice. Let me call Dad, first. Maybe he can arrange for us to use the corporate jet.” “Paul might be able to help, too,” Jerry suggested. “I’m not sure how happy he’ll be to rescue his rival for your affections, but he won’t let that stop him from doing the right thing.” “I don’t want to ask that of him. It puts him in an awkward situation with the firm, too. If he does a favor for one associate, he can’t very well refuse others. I’ll call Dad. He can help me figure this out.” “Do you think they’ll have room for us at Palma Dorado?” Tommy asked, vibrating with anxiety and excitement. “Please tell me they’ll let you bring your service dog along. 

You know what, Jerry? Dave and Timmy are in Cabo—they do shows in a nightclub down there. Maybe they have room for us and won’t mind a dog.” “I don’t believe it’s the dog they’ll mind,” Jerry said, and then caught himself when Tommy put both hands on his hips. “We’re going there on business—maybe dangerous business—even if we take precautions. We don’t want to get friends in trouble, do we?” Before the debate could continue, I spoke up. 

“We stick together. We keep our mouths shut about why we’re in Cabo even if we run into people we know. Palma Dorado will accommodate pets—in their villas—not at the resort hotel.” “A villa would be good, right? You can probably squeeze most of us in there, so we might only need one or two.” He didn’t wait for an answer but turned to Anastasia. “Did you hear that? Your momma’s going to get us a villa.” Then he started to sing that old Frank Sinatra or Bing Crosby song, South of the Border, Scott had mentioned. Holding out one hand for Anastasia, she hopped up onto her hind legs, and stepped along beside Tommy as he danced. “Thomas, this isn’t a vacation. You need to settle down,” Bernadette didn’t have a knife in her hand, but she was wagging a big wooden spoon she’d brought with her from the kitchen when she heard the excitement going on in the situation room. “He won’t be like this all the way to Cabo, will he?” Laura asked. “Not if he knows what’s good for him. Bernadette will toss him out of the jet somewhere over the Sea of Cortez and let him swim the rest of the way.” “Go home and pack while Jessica makes the arrangements,” Bernadette chided. 

“Pack? Why? At a place like Palma Dorado, they’ll have everything we need. We know this isn’t a vacation, but we don’t want to create suspicion. We’ll blow our cover if we don’t go shopping, to the spa, the nightclubs, and…” “That’s enough, Tommy!” Tommy’s eyes and mouth flew open at the tone in Jerry’s voice. I was shocked, too. That was the first time I’d ever heard Jerry speak to Tommy in that way. I held my breath, waiting for a tantrum or a crying jag. Instead, Tommy suddenly settled down. “You’re right. I’ll sleep in a tent on the beach. Can we please just bring Frank home before they kill him—his fellow cops—not the frigging drug lords.” “I’m going to see what kind of arrangements I can make for support. If Mik and his pals believe taking off for Mexico is their get out of jail free card, they’re wrong, Tommy. There’s plenty of corruption among the Mexican police, but they don’t want our fugitives from justice any more than we want theirs. They’ve got all the dirty cops they need. 

When it comes to tracking fugitives from the U.S., they’ve been very cooperative in the past few years. Trust me on that. I’ll check to see if the feds have issued warrants for the arrest of Mik and Eckhardt—for Jenkins, too, now that we know he was the fourth man in the crew that picked up Frank Saturday morning. Heck, let them arrest Frank, too, if that’s what it takes to extricate him from Baja.” “Even if they haven’t issued arrest warrants, they ought to be willing to subpoena all of them as witnesses to crimes committed during the operation of the drug ring. We could get Frank out of there that way, too.” Peter nodded, enthusiastically. “Okay, I’ll bring that up if I need to.” “If that doesn’t work, maybe I can get Dick Tatum to help us. He just texted me that the post mortems for both Toby Foster and Jeff Baker identified marks as being left by Mik’s ring. In an earlier complaint filed by Toby Foster, hospital staff took photos documenting the same bruises which Foster told them Mik had caused. No arrest warrant was ever issued since Foster died not long after that and his death was ruled an accidental overdose. Dick can ask for that to be done now on behalf of both dead men. At least Harry Mik won’t go free.” “Why not get Dick moving on it? It can’t hurt to have another warrant out for a man like Mik. 

Do you want everyone to go home and pack? We won’t need much since if we can’t find Frank in a day or two, we ought to come home and put together another plan. If, and when we do find Frank, he’s going to want to get out of there ASAP.” “I’ll book the villas for three nights. If we want to leave before then, we’ll do it. Will you want to bring a team with you?” 

“Let me worry about that after I speak with the feds and see what they’re willing to do,” Peter responded. “You’ve got your hands full finding accommodations for us.” “Do you think this resets our seventy-two-hour clock?” I wondered if bumping up against that limit was behind Peter’s concern about keeping our visit short. “Maybe, but we’re only halfway through that clock anyway. I don’t want to tell too many people about this, but Don, Dick Tatum, and George Hernandez need to know. Someone’s going to have to babysit while we’re gone.” “Unless the feds are willing to come and pick up our houseguests. Is there any way they can reunite Scott with his family members? Federal protective custody is a good idea for him if it can be arranged.” “That’s a great solution for Scott, Jessica. I’ll raise the subject in a ‘what if’ kind of way. Who knows how long that might take to arrange, though.” I suddenly realized how silent it had become in the situation room as Peter and I hashed things out. 

“So?” Laura asked. “I don’t believe anyone should leave.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized that wouldn’t work. “Shoot! Do you all have passports? Are they up-to-date?” I heard a chorus of “yeses.” “You’ve got to go get them. How should we handle this, Peter? The last thing we need right now is to have one of our cats get nabbed by a fleeing rat. We haven’t changed our clothes or showered or anything like that. Maybe everyone needs to go home.” “We’ve got a laundry room to wash and dry clothes. There are bathrobes in all the closets and plenty of toiletries. I don’t see any reason we can’t all be cleaned up and ready to go in a couple of hours. Do you?” Bernadette looked around the room. That summoned a resounding round of “nos.” “I’ll go shower right now,” Laura said. “Can I borrow a t-shirt and sweats?” “Sure. You can, too, Kim. Tommy’s right, though. We can shop when we get to the resort if it’s not too late.” “Yes!” Tommy said. “If you guys strip down, I’ll wash and dry our clothes. Sorry, I don’t iron, as Jerry already knows.” “Wrinkles don’t bother him for some reason.” “There’s an iron and ironing board in the laundry room if the ‘wrinkle free’ cycle on the dryer doesn’t do it for you,” I suggested. “Once I’m cleaned up, why don’t you all give me your keys, tell me where your passports are, and one of Peter’s guys can escort me to collect them. Are they easy to find?” Jerry, one of the most well-organized among us, piped up immediately. Kim and Brien took a little longer. Heck, I needed a minute to remember where I’d stashed mine. 

“That’ll take a while, but at least it’ll keep everyone from scattering in different directions,” I mumbled, trying to figure out if there was a better way to do this. “I can’t come up with a better idea. Brien could escort you if he didn’t have to wait for Tommy to wash his clothes. I have swim trunks, but other than that, there’s nothing in the house that’ll fit him.” Brien took that as a cue to strike a bodybuilder pose. I shook my head. “Peter, if you can spare someone, let’s go for it!” “I like the idea, although Laura doesn’t need to leave. All my associates are bonded and licensed by the state. You can trust them to go through your stuff. Keys, please. Write down where the documents are supposed to be—add your phone number in case there’s a problem.” 

“Post-it note time!” Tommy sprang into action, leaping down the hall as if he were Nureyev. Anastasia bounded after him. We all stared for a good thirty seconds before Bernadette took charge. “That’s a yes, Peter. I’m already cleaned up, so I’m fixing lunch. Jessica, get busy with the flight and the hotel! I know where our passports are.” “Aye-aye!” I said, saluting Bernadette as she bustled off and I called Dad. I’d hardly finished explaining what we needed before he put me on hold. “Wheels up in less than an hour. The plane will be at the Jackie Cochran by two at the latest. They’ll file a flight plan if you tell me when you want to leave. It’s not a very long fight. If you leave by four or five, you should arrive at the resort in time for a late dinner. Someone at Palma Dorado should be able to tell you if Frank’s there. You have a recent picture of him, right?” “I do. Thanks so much, Dad. I hope you’re right that someone recognizes Frank, tells us which suite he’s in, and we can take him along to dinner. A piece of cake, right?” I started to fidget. Soon, I’d be bouncing like Tommy. Anastasia was on the job, though, putting her head in my lap and looking up at me with her soulful eyes to calm me down. “Let’s hope so. Don’t do anything stupid. Let Peter and the people he enlists do the heavy-lifting on this one. 

No guns! The Mexican police won’t be as lenient as George Hernandez on Bernadette or anyone else in your party who brandishes a gun—even if they don’t fire it wildly!” “Bernadette’s learned her lesson. I don’t want anyone to do anything that might get Frank shot. George is in the loop. Don will be soon, and Peter’s on the phone to los federales and whoever else they suggest we speak to—maybe even someone with the Mexican police who specializes in finding U.S. fugitives. It’ll be hard to make a move without advice from a member of law enforcement. Hopefully, not an untrustworthy swine like the guys with Frank.” “I hope that also means if Peter’s contacts tell you stay put in Rancho Mirage, you’ll do it.” I didn’t even want to suggest that option to Tommy. “Don’t worry. We’ll do as we’re told.” I crossed my fingers. “Sure, you will. If anything goes wrong, your mother will never let me forget it. Please don’t break my heart, Jinx.” My eyes teared up when he used that silly nickname derived from Jessica Alexis. It was a holdover from a childish demand I’d made when I learned Dad’s real name was Henry even though everyone always called him Hank. I hoped my current idea to take the entire Cat Pack to find Frank wasn’t as ridiculous as that one. “I’ll be careful, and I do listen to Peter.” I hadn’t made a reservation anywhere in Cabo yet. Arriving on a Sunday night, we’d be able to find rooms somewhere—even if the resort was booked. “Please ask the crew to plan for a four o’clock departure. We’ll be there by three-thirty at the latest.” “Will do. Love you!” “Me, too. Thanks, Dad—especially for making this happen at the last minute.” 

“I’d appreciate more notice when you invite me to the wedding.” “Wedding? What wedding?” I heard him laugh as he hung up. My face burned as I recalled Frank’s declaration of love, written with passion and determination in the note he’d left with his dad. No doubt, in a moment moment when he was profoundly disturbed at the prospect of losing everything, including his life. I hesitated to take his words seriously, even as my heart pounded furiously. “Earth to Jessica. This is Tommy calling!” Tommy stood in front of me in a bathrobe with a towel wrapped around his head. He undid the towel and drooped it over his shoulders, leaving his red hair standing up on end. “Did you say we’re leaving at four?” “That’s the plan.” He leaned in and kissed me all over my face. Anastasia loved it and wanted in on the lovefest. “Stop it, Tommy. You’re wet!” “You should be too—go! We’ve got a schedule to keep. 

We’re going to get Cousin Frank back, aren’t we, wonder dog?” Tommy did a little kick and then stepped around in a circle. Anastasia did the same—perfectly in sync. I stared in amazement as I called Palma Dorado. “Reservations, please.”

~~~

I don't really like book sets for review purposes... But they are so handy for a binge read of series books that I sometimes choose the ultimate reading experience, just for the fun it provides... Readers get to meet the characters, in particular, in the very first book and after that, we know enough about each that we can sink further and further into "who" the characters are... This author, however, has done something better, potential reviewers are able to preview each of her series books available on YouTube... Because of this, I'll just be talking about the final book... The Dead Cousin... in this set.

Jessica Huntington begins the series as a recently divorced woman who found her husband cheating with another woman...in their bed! Throughout the series, Jessica will have to deal with her ex and his new wife over and over until in this set, both her ex and his wife are heading to prison... And what an open marriage they had as the movie star wife creates chaos in public...and more... That might have been a little "payback" of relief for Jessica, IF she was not also in those same news papers talking about her, as if the two women were vying for attention and loyalty of the man who had been husband to both of them.

Jessica really wanted nothing to do with this couple, can you blame her? But as she began to get back into her own personal life, as a lawyer, she was caught becoming an amateur detective for murder cases happening in families of her clients... And they wanted Jessica's help. By the time of the second book, Jessica had willingly accepted her new role, even, pulling together her friends--and their friends--into what they called a Cat Pack... She lived in Cathedral City, added that to the once musical team pulled together as friends... and wound up having a Cat Pack, which, later, by the way, will have an animal join the group...but he's a Dog... LOL You'll love what happens when the Dog visits a club in Mexico!

Jessica is rich, so rich that she has a credit card that none of us will ever own... And, when she is distressed, trying to deal with her divorce, especially, she goes on shopping binges... for her as well as all of her friends. Being rich does one thing that we see happening through the series, she is able to work to provide justice for the families of those who were dead due to violence... Bernadette, her friend and long-term house manager, slowly is helping her through the trauma and has introduced her to a local priest who is counseling her about the use of money that cannot really solve her emotional needs...

Each of the books has a death of a family member, not necessarily of Huntington. As the series continues, Jessica begins to be interested in the opposite sex again--it took some time to get rid of the image of her husband in HER bed with another woman. But the first man she was attracted to happened to be gay, and, at that time, we learn more about Tommy who was the brother of a woman who had been murdered. He and Jessica came together in sorrow and Tommy looked to Jessica for the attention he had lost from his sister. Needless to say that both Tommy and Jerry became a part of the Cat Pack...

Then Jessica had the opportunity to work in a new lawyer's office opening in her area and was attracted to the man who had hired her... While at the same time, she reconnects to a local long-time friend... Readers watch as she becomes involved with...both... and then struggles with her own emotions as she knows that she doesn't want to hurt either one, but she just is unable...to...decide. Perhaps her past disaster with her Ex is the reason she is unable to commit...

Each of these books are uniquely different than the standard amateur detective books. First, because the Cat Pack keeps increasing as special skills are needed from one person or another, it seems they want to stay in the Pack! No wonder! Meetings normally have delicious food which is provided by Bernadette or catered... And, if a road trip is needed to solve the case, Jessica foots the bill for the entire Pack! But, I hasten to point out. Those who work with her are not moochers--well, maybe one or two seem to be at first, the pool boy, for instance who is always looking for something to eat--but are able to provide their special skills to meeting the needs of the team...

In fact, the last book involves a hesitant, but definitely a member of the team, simply because he's interested in Jessica... And when he is kidnapped, Jessica will stop at nothing to bring him back! And that, indeed, involves renting a villa in Mexico and taking the Pack who always seem hungry, needing clothes to complement their newest caper, and working hard to ensure that every single murder mystery is solved and completely explained for the readers' satisfaction.

Get the idea that I thoroughly enjoyed this delightful, but deep-dive series into how relatives are caught in a devastating loss and need help to find justice... And, find that the Cat Pack is who you're gonna call! Definitely a Winner!

GABixlerReviews

Come With Me to Rancho Mirage, CA Where The Heat is High and Murder, Mayhem and Madness Occurs! Presented by Anna Celeste Burke

 

So Posh Even Thugs Wear Armani!

And, supposedly, Irving Berlin wrote White Christmas in the gracious resort with magnificent views of snow-capped mountains in the winter.

I don’t think it has anything to do with God, if there is one, since I’m not too sure about that right now. We’re all just a bunch of imperfect people doing imperfect things. All we can do is pick ourselves up and trudge on. Maybe someday things will make more sense than they do right now.

Jessica dragged herself out of bed, took a quick shower, and dressed in a fresh set of leggings and a t-shirt. When she got to the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee, she tried not to look at the backyard where the crime scene tape was flapping in the morning breeze. As she was about to sit down and drink her coffee, the doorbell rang. She jumped out of her skin. 

From the back wing, she heard Bernadette holler something about “security company… guard gate called… be there in a minute.” “I’ll get it! You stay put unless you want to meet our new babysitters.” “Of course I do,” Bernadette said, hustling down the hall toward Jessica. Jessica went to the front door and looked through the peephole. A tall man with broad shoulders, stood at the door. He was wearing a polo shirt with the name of the company emblazoned on the shirt and a pair of khakis. Still being cautious, Jessica opened the door with the security chain in place. “Can I see some I.D.?” “Ms. Huntington-Harper, I presume?” “I.D. please.” He reached into a pocket of his khakis and pulled out an identification wallet. He passed it to Jessica who looked at it. The man standing before her matched the picture on the I.D. badge and the name was the same one given to her when she’d called the firm the night before. She breathed a little easier, closed the door to release the security chain, and invited him in. 

Peter March did just that. He marched into the house. His bulky figure almost filled the doorway as he crossed the threshold. “You want coffee?” Bernadette asked as she slid into hostess mode. “That would be great. I understand there’s been trouble.” As he said that, he peered at Jessica’s still blemished face. “Anyone else injured?” he asked. “Brien the pool guy, a friend of ours who went home last night after the latest ruckus,” Jessica said in response to his question. 

“Ruckus, huh? By that do you mean the surreptitious entry into the gated community, breach of your property, and the attempted kidnapping of your house guest?” “Yeah, that’s it. Well, that’s part of the story.” “Tell him about the guy I shot. He’s injured too, in the trasero.” Bernadette pointed to her own behind as she spoke. “You can fill me in a little more, and then I’d like to walk around the house and grounds, if that’s okay with you two. After that I can make a recommendation about how we can best be of service.” As he spoke, he slid the dark glasses he wore to the top of his head. His hair clipped short, was worn almost in a buzz cut. When he raised his hand to move his glasses, Jessica noticed he wore an insignia ring. He caught her looking at it. “Annapolis grad, class of ’82. I served twenty-five years with the Navy before I took on this job, a member of their special forces. Most of our staff members are ex-military or have law enforcement backgrounds. We provide armed response, but avoid the use of more force than necessary. We can talk about what else you can do to make the premises more secure after I do my walk through.” 

“How do you take your coffee Mr. March?” Bernadette asked, smiling sweetly at the massive man trailing after her into the kitchen. Even the hulking Mr. March couldn’t resist St. Bernadette’s enticing smile. He responded with a broad smile that revealed a perfect set of dazzling white teeth. The smile softened the rugged features of his face, etched with years of wear and tear Jessica wasn’t sure she cared to learn more about. He wasn’t an unpleasant man, just daunting. Seeing small scars, one on his jaw and another on his right cheek, Jessica reached up and touch the remnants of the scrape on her face. The area around her eye was no longer tender, but still discolored by faded purple, red, and yellow hues. She felt safer just walking behind the wall of a man. Things would settle down now. They just had to.

~~~

Jessica, the lead character, who had filed for divorce when she caught her husband in their bed with a bimbo, had still not signed the divorce papers; and, indeed, had fallen into depression while she was still carrying them, only getting some relief when she went out and binged shopping at the elite stores of her small community, Rancho Mirage... Or, consider the latest fiasco, when Bernadette woke her up with not only her gay friend but the pool boy in her bed--and Jessica had no idea what they had gotten into! Yeah, she might be rich, but that didn't help much at this point...

She later realized that, only after her best friend, Laura's, husband was murdered and she had been asked to represent his wife, in case she was questioned as the prime suspect, did she begin to move past her depression. On the other hand, her best friend was now drowning in her worries, as they were finding that her husband had been in trouble financially, and it was very possible that she would not only lose her home, but would be in jail if they didn't discover who had murdered her husband...

Quickly, Jessica took charge, once again being able to use her legal experience in helping her friend. Soon, she had pulled together her "cat crew" who would be helping in the investigation. Even Detective Hernandez was willing to share information since she was rich enough to have a dedicated private investigator working on the case, as well as her own pro bono participation...

Who knew that her entire crew would be followed? That became abundantly clear when Jessica was first attacked!

She remembered a favorite quote her mother borrowed from Dorothy Parker and used in response to telephones and doorbells: What fresh hell is this?

And then everybody realized that whoever murdered Laura's husband wasn't going to wait around for any investigation, because the Armenians were involved!

 Even hairline fractures in your soul can shatter under pressure if you don’t work at it—cultivate fortitude and courage—virtues like that.

“Margarit Tilik took a pack out of her purse yesterday and I got a whiff. That reminded me of the odor you described when you first walked into the house Saturday morning. I asked Tommy to pick up a pack so we can check it out. Anyway, Margarit claims that Roger was her driver several days last week, and had been her driver since April. That coincides with the start of those cash payments. Her fiancé, a man named Alan Bedrossian, is the one who hired and paid Roger. Does that name ring a bell either?” “It’s all news to me; the job, the woman, her fiancé, and the little BMW sports car parked outside my house. I’ll bet she’s gorgeous. If she came to the house in that sports car, why does she need a driver?” “Good question. She also works as a courier and translator for Alan Bedrossian. It sounds like he’s the suspicious type and uses the drivers as spies to keep tabs on his sweetheart. Quite the love story, huh?” “Couriers, translators, and spies! Who is Alan Bedrossian? Is he some reclusive billionaire businessman, or a government agent or something?” “Well, not exactly. Now that you mention it, they do kind of remind me of Boris and Natasha, the spies in those old Rocky and Bullwinkle cartoon shows. He’s a businessman, but not altogether legit. I’m not sure yet how he and Roger hooked up, but Bedrossian’s well-connected to a lot of nasty things. I think he goes to the head of the list as the most unsavory character in the middle of this debacle. His beloved, Margarit, is a close second.” “And Roger’s not too far behind! I just didn’t know the man. Did he change or was I deluded all those years as his wife?” she asked a plaintive tone in her voice.

~~~

I have a hard time placing this book in the cozy mystery genre, even if a number of amateur detectives are part of the crew trying to solve the murder of Laura's husband, Roger, who had been keeping a lot from his wife. Mainly because of the setting! It's hard to feel fear for the main character when she's asked to come to a spa where she will have a scheduled appointment while she learns from a woman who drinks one after another, and slurs her words explaining exactly what had been happening leading up to the murder...

Seriously, folks, you just cannot get too excited when you are enjoying the absurdities of the rich and famous, who, upon learning of a murder, the main character goes out to buy an entire wardrobe for her friend, adding on several items for herself, her housekeeper, and even her friend's sister! And then, in these new clothes, gets attacked, ruining those new clothes so badly that they are immediately thrown away...twice!

On the other, the cat crew that was formed around Jessica revealed a closeness, a concern for each other that only good friends would exhibit. Even the hired PI rapidly is absorbed into the crew, while his boss, upon meeting Jessica, immediately begins to think about adding her to his legal firm now being formed. The characters are each so original that you wonder just how they were conceived--after all, the rich and famous rarely cares or even knows the name of their pool boy, right? But he's right there in the middle, helping to keep everybody safe...

What an escape from reality, isn't it? That's why it is so much fun... But then, readers find little gems of wisdom to ponder, such as the ones included here:

Money, while not the root of all evil, was certainly fertile ground for misguided choices. Her own life of privilege had shown her that.

I think you will enjoy this one and, yes, it has a satisfactory ending that clears everything up! Kudos to the Author, Anna Celeste Burke...

GABixlerReviews

A Merry Christmas Anniversary Mystery - Latest from Anna Celeste Burke

 

How about a cozy fire and seasonal music to go with the champagne?" Felix didn't wait for us to answer. One of Jack's favorite jazz singers began to sing a sweet, dreamy version of White Christmas. A fire was crackling by the time we reached the fireplace. "It's been good talking to you, Felix. Thanks for all your help, but I'll take it from here. Goodnight."

           “Can we help it if we’ve turned out to be a good team in love and murder, my sweet?

We'd just finished breakfast on our third morning in the lavish hotel when the shaking began. Max had kept his word not to intrude, although it was beginning to worry me that he hadn't called to arrange our dinner date. We'd had two gloriously peaceful days exploring Max's strange new world taking shape in New Arcadia. I should have known that wouldn't last. 

"Don't worry," Jack said as he picked up Miles and followed me under the table. "Max claims his architects and engineers designed this hotel to withstand the biggest quake Mother Nature can unleash." As the room continued to shimmy and shake, Jack appeared less confident. I was fighting the urge to bolt, but where would I go? "If this isn't 'the big one,' I don't want to be around for it," I grumbled. Rattling sounds came from all around us, and the entire hotel swayed—or rolled was more like it. "Are you sure this place isn't going to sink like the Titanic? We might as well be in a storm at sea." "It's supposed to roll, Georgie. The entire building has flexible joints that can slide with the quake's motion." "What's the rattling noise?" I asked as I heard a soft plop. My laptop settled onto the carpet nearby after sliding off the table above us. "Probably the blinds and windows. The items in drawers and cupboards, too, although magnetic locks are activated once the motion reaches a certain level. We'd hear more than rattling if the cupboards and drawers were flapping, and stuff was spilling all over the floor. These quakes don't last more than a minute or two. It'll be over soon." 

As Jack spoke, the motion lessened and then stopped. The cats, who usually demand an explanation for unusual human behavior like sitting on the floor under a table, hadn't squirmed or made a sound. No purring from them either, though. "Whew!" I said, scooting toward the edge of the solidly built, exotic-wood table that could seat eight for dinner, more if you added another leaf. That didn't matter since Jack and I weren't planning to have any dinner parties. I was grateful for the table's hefty size, though, if it didn't collapse and flatten me like a pancake. I wanted to check to see if my laptop had survived. "What's that sound?" Jack asked, putting a hand on my arm to keep me from going anywhere. A low rumble grew louder as if it were moving closer. "

Aftershock?" I asked. My answer was a blast that shifted the entire hotel building in one direction all at once. The windows didn't rattle but made an oomph sound—like a person who's had the wind knocked out of them. The building righted itself as the motion and noise stopped. "That was no quake," Jack declared.

The ninth, and last in the series, so far, was more dramatic and tense for readers as explosions occur and fear and action consumes all that a call for evacuation is made. But, of course, as a part of senior administration, Georgie will be staying, even though she and Jack are already vacationing, celebrating their first anniversary... And, of course, a body is soon found, so Jack, as a homicide detective, even if they are visiting "New Arcadia," is called upon to begin the investigation. I'm Loving This Series!

Our suite was virtually soundproof, but I heard the faint whine of sirens and horns blasting. I opened the French doors that led to our expansive balcony. We had fantastic views of the mountains on both sides of the resort and the city of New Arcadia. A golf course beckoned to us from in front of the hotel. Below us, and behind the hotel, a private recreation area offered guests swimming pools, tennis courts, a spa, and a path wandering between the biodomes. In front of the hotel, I could also glimpse the green spaces, homes, shops, and other buildings in one of New Arcadia's first neighborhoods. Max hoped to welcome the first residents to their homes in "Tomorrow's City, Today!" early in the new year. Farther out, where no development appeared to be underway, plumes of smoke rose into the sky. 

"I see smoke, Carol, but it's in the distance." I stepped closer to the far end of the veranda to get a better view. Strains of Blue Christmas reached me first, followed by horn blasts and screeching sirens. They were louder but not constant, even though I could see police and fire department vehicles racing toward the smoke. Ambulances and rescue squad vehicles were in the mix too. Why aren't they using the underground roadways? I wondered. People milled around on the patios and pool areas below as if in a daze. Dressed in Marvelous Marley World outfits, it was clear some were employees. Others who must have been guests huddled together speaking to each other or staff members. Several were on their cellphones like me. I moved back toward the French doors, suddenly worried that I'd left them open. So far, Miles and Ella hadn't shown much interest in getting out onto the veranda. Still, I wasn't taking any chances, given my distracted state of mind...

By now, most of the ongoing characters are known, but we do have a new family introduced, Frank and Jessica Huntington (the author has an entire series featuring Jessica). The family includes Anastasia, who caused a few minutes consternation on the part of Miles and Ella--and then they bounded off in a "welcome" race to new adventures! As time goes by, and Max is still missing, all of the employees begin to discuss what would happen if he was...not coming back. Of course, there was a succession plan for the leader but, as could be imagined as the chaos encircled their lives, those who had a vested interest in the potential new leader of Marley World, including Georgie, were the main thrust of the book... And, we know, don't we? That when there was a chance to increase power by individuals, it often leads to deception and criminal actions. Georgie was soon in the position of wondering just who she could trust...and just how far she could go in attempting to handle things on her own, without becoming a target herself?!

“Time to gang up on him and try a little tough love,” Sid added, wearily.  “Yes, something like that. I appreciate your willingness to share your concerns with me. I’ll ask Rita to send those documents by email, so we’ll get them right away,” I said. We both stood up, slowly, as if weighed down by the difficulty of the demands on us. Just then, the holiday music started. Sid and I both startled as Michael Bublé belted out the lyrics to It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas.  “We’re not too edgy, are we?  

I still have a couple of Burke's series books that I haven't talked about...and will do so from time to time... In the meantime, I'm reading one of Kenneth Eade's legal thrillers... He's been on a hiatus from writing, but I've still found enough of his books to keep me happy! He's my favorite writer for this genre, and I've found that he's normally writing about something that is relevant to today's headlines... This time, about a Cop-Black Man Shooting Incident ...So watch for it coming soon! You can be sure that this writer makes sure that defendants get the best legal attention that is possible!

Glenda

God Bless

Georgie Shaw Mystery Series by Anna Celeste Burke and Featuring Miles... the Music of Miles Davis and Ella...Ella Fitzgerald

 

“Argh! Cruella—it’s Cruella!” Those shrill cries came from a large, white, fluffy Purrsilla, Catmmando Tom’s lady friend in his cartoon adventures. She rushed toward me in a blind panic. The plush tail that towered above her head was pinned to her body, making it easier to maneuver through the crowd quickly. That’s a no-no for anyone playing the role since the luxurious tail is Purrsilla’s most attractive feature. Apart from the gorgeous green, heavily-lashed cat eyes, anyway. Under normal circumstances, a park ranger would have taken her aside. Today everyone was distracted. Including me, given the shocking claim Purrsilla was making as she skittered my way. 

I snagged her before she could run headlong into a throng of guests. “Whoa, Purrsilla, slow down!” I didn’t exactly grab her by the scruff of her neck, but close. It took some doing to hang on to her. I’m strong, thanks to regular workouts. She was terrified, and her first inclination was to swat at me with a big paw—also a no-no in the associate handbook for those charged with bringing Marvelous Marley World’s beloved character to life. “Stop, Purrsilla. Take a deep breath, and, please, lower your voice.” 

She let go of her tail which almost whopped me in the face as it sprang back into place. Then she buried her big cat head into her oversized paws. I tried patting her on the back, hoping to calm her. “She’s okay, folks. Sorry for the trouble.” That dispersed the crowd that had gathered. Still hanging onto her, I walked Purrsilla toward the doors that led backstage. Doug and that man in the brown suit were eying me. I waved off Doug. “Purrsilla’s just fine,” I called out loud enough for Doug and anyone else still standing around to hear. Doug waved in return. “Who’s inside there?” I whispered. Calling her Purrsilla wasn’t going to cut it if I wanted to reach the human having a meltdown. I hit a spot on the wall, and those hidden doors opened. Once we were underground, Purrsilla removed the top of her costume. “I’m so...” she hiccupped, “sorry. It was horrible. I lost it. Cruella’s dead!”

The young woman who still had not told me her name reached out and grabbed me with those paws and sobbed on my shoulder. “Are you talking about Mallory Marley-Marston?” I felt a shimmy of fear run down my spine. Someone we know, Doug had said. “Yes. We called her Cruella de Vil. I know we shouldn’t have done that, but it fit. She was a mean person—always giving my friends who work in Snappy Treats a hard time. Nothing was ever good enough for that hag! They just hated her, and so did I,” she gasped. “Oh no! I don’t mean we hated her enough to do that to her—kill her! Who could do that to anyone?” “It’s going to be all right. Uh, I’m sorry, I still don’t know your name.” “Debbie. Debbie Dinsmore.” “Don’t worry, Debbie.” 

I looked around to make sure we were alone, lowered my voice to a conspiratorial level. “A lot of us called her Cruella.” Or worse, I thought. Debbie let out a huge sigh of relief. “I’m sorry you had to see her... had to see anyone in that condition. You need to put your feet up in the break room. Calm your nerves and then go home.” “But my shift’s not over for hours. I just came on duty...” Another round of sobbing cut off her words. “No problem. We’re going to shut down much of this area for a while. I’ll fix it with your supervisor, Megan Donnelly, okay?” Debbie nodded in agreement. “Does she know how to reach you later?” “Yes,” Debbie said with a puzzled look on her face. “Good! I’m going to have her call you with a referral for someone to speak to about what you witnessed today.” Her puzzled expression morphed into wariness. “Trust me. It’ll help—I went through something like this myself—years ago. I should have talked to someone right away. The company will pay for it, and we’ll cover a few days paid leave if you want to take it.” She didn’t respond one way or the other. 

What had she seen? I uttered a silent prayer that whoever had leaked information about what was going on also hadn’t taken pictures. “I’m calling Megan right now. You have to promise me you’ll calm down and that you’ll see the person Megan finds for you, please?” “Sure. I do need to take the day off. Talking to somebody couldn’t hurt.” She rubbed tears from her face with a paw—no-no number three, but who was counting on a day like today? Megan picked up my call on the first ring. I filled her in on the situation. Not that I knew much myself. I must have conveyed the seriousness of the matter because Megan sprang into action and insisted that Debbie stay with me. 

Miles!

Ella!

“Jack, there’s been a murder!” Jack and I had been sitting on my patio, taking in the view of the Pacific Ocean when my phone rang. Summer was well on its way, here, on the Southern California Coast in June. Still, a chill hung in the air as the sun sank toward the horizon. The chill I felt wasn’t entirely due to the weather. Before I could say more, Jack jumped to his feet and pulled his phone out of the pocket of his jeans. “I don’t see a message. Why would someone from the department call me on your landline?” 

“They didn’t. The murder’s not here. It’s on a beach somewhere in North Carolina near where Jennifer Dodson’s daughter has been going to school. Someone attacked Meredith on the beach.” “No! Are you saying someone murdered Jennifer’s kid?” 

“No, Meredith’s not dead, but a man stabbed her, and she’s recovering in the hospital. Jennifer flew out there a couple of days ago. She didn’t call me until she was sure Meredith was going to be alright. There have been a series of attacks at the beach—all women. Meredith was fortunate, apparently, since she lived through the assault. Another woman attacked in a separate incident died. The next night a third attack occurred. Kat Benson, a graduate student in art history at UNC Chapel Hill, attends the same school where Meredith’s enrolled. She’s not dead, but not doing well.” 

“Did Meredith know both other women?” I could tell I had triggered Jack’s detective side and had set his inquisitive mind in motion. “Kat yes, but not the woman murdered on the first night—Jenna somebody—I don’t remember her last name. Kat was a graduate assistant for an undergrad art history course Meredith took. I guess they hit it off and became friends. Meredith was distraught when the police questioned her and grew even more upset when told someone had attacked her friend, too. Meredith’s scared.” 

“Who could blame her? It’s hard to feel safe when something horrific like that happens.” “The police have the attacker, but Jennifer’s not convinced it’s safe for Meredith, either, so she plans to bring her home as soon as she can. I hate to change our plans for the weekend, Jack, but I’m going to visit Jennifer and Meredith when they get home. Jennifer seems to think it would be good for me to be there because…” It’s as though something suddenly swallowed me up and I couldn’t finish that sentence. “Because you went through something similar at Meredith’s age. What exactly, I don’t know, do I? Every time the subject comes up, you slip away, then go silent. It’s like a ghost story. Only the ghost is the part of you that steals away to Corsario Cove whenever something sets off your memories of that event. You’re otherwise one of the smartest, most with-it women I’ve ever met, and yet you carry this secret around with you like Marley’s chain. Not your boss Marley, but that ghost in the Dickens Christmas story. I… I’m going to shut up. We’ve been through this before, and I don’t want to make you feel worse since you’re obviously upset. When you’re ready to talk, I’m here.” 

“I am having this déjà vu experience. I don’t always know what will trigger it, but news about a murder on the beach has set it off, big time.” I stared at the new man in my life, trying to figure out why I couldn’t say more. Jack Wheeler’s the first man I’ve been this close to in years. No, make it decades. I’m not talking about a mere flirtation with the handsome homicide detective—a Jim Rockford lookalike. Not a fling, either. There had been other men since that horrendous incident in Corsario Cove changed my life forever. Since then, I had learned that attraction may be instantaneous, but not love. None of the men I met after losing Danny had me contemplating love and marriage—until Jack. The more I thought about making a serious commitment, though, the more all the old memories hounded me. 

“I want to tell you what happened. I should have done it already. It’s just...” Jack took a step forward and pulled me into his arms. “You’re trembling. Maybe I should go with you this weekend. I like your friend Jennifer. She’s been on my side when it comes to getting you to take me—us—seriously.” How would it feel to show up in Corsario Cove with a new man? I mused, considering his offer. I had grown up there. In San Albinus, actually, a small town not far from Corsario Cove on California’s Central Coast. Before I was twenty, I had gone off to college, not far away, at UC Santa Cruz. That’s where I met the love of my life. Corsario Cove is where I lost him. I had already told Jack that much. I settled into his arms. “Jennifer’s an incurable romantic. She fancies herself to be quite a matchmaker, too. A skill she claims she’s honed matching clients to their dream vacations if you can believe that! As far as she’s concerned, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Could be, she’s right, I thought. I liked the feeling of his arms around me. He smelled terrific, too—clean and fresh like the outdoors. No discernible scent of anything artificial, like soap or cologne. Honest and direct, like the man. I leaned into him as the chill fled, replaced by the now familiar sensation I often experienced around Jack. Snap, crackle, pop—a series of enticing feelings that were hard to describe.  

“Jennifer is right. I’m your man.” Jack tilted my head up and kissed me. Those sensations reached all the way down to the tips of my toes as I returned that kiss. “I’ll call Jennifer and tell her we’ll both be there for the weekend. She can get us a great deal on rooms at The Sanctuary Resort and Spa. It’s on me, though. I’m sure you didn’t have a weekend getaway figured into your budget.” Homicide detectives don't make much money. Jack’s not the kind of guy who throws money around. Still, the OC, as we refer to Orange County, is not a very affordable place to live. That’s true even in Irvine, away from the chichi Newport Coast where I live. Jack owns a comfy townhouse or will one day when he finishes paying the mortgage. He’s trying to save for retirement, and he has a daughter in college who needs his help. Not that he’s legally obligated to pay child support any longer. “An obligation of the heart, not the divorce decree,” he had said one evening when we were talking about his relationship with his daughter Beth. Jack does okay, but he doesn’t have much left over at the end of the month. So far, we had worked around the difference in our expendable incomes. It wasn’t always easy. Jack isn’t what I’d call macho, but he does have a fierce, independent streak that resists my efforts to subsidize our fun. “I don’t want to tangle with you about money. 

I can’t always keep up with what you can afford on the megabucks you get working for the Cat, but I don’t mind paying my fair share. I would like to see where you grew up. In a way, you’re doing me a favor so I’m happy to share the costs.” He let me go, but I stayed close as we talked. Close enough to see the sparks that danced in his dark eyes when he was adamant. I had made up my mind, though, and picked up my argument that I was paying for our trip. “Trust me, The Sanctuary Resort and Spa is outrageous, even at a discount. Let me spend some of that bonus you helped me get by keeping me alive so I could advance my career at the Cat Factory.” That I was now dating a homicide detective had not come about under the most pleasant circumstances. After three months, the hubbub about a Murder at Catmmando Mountain had finally subsided. Finding a high-ranking Marvelous Marley World executive viciously killed in the Arcadia theme park on Valentine’s Day had created a stir. Especially scintillating news when it turned out that the victim was the founder’s daughter. Max Marley had not only built the Arcadia theme park—several theme parks, in fact—but much more. That includes resorts, movies, animated features and shorts, characters and other Marvelous Marley World products. The brilliant, but eccentric man, presides over a multi-billion-dollar entertainment empire. It’s all rooted in the success of a cartoon cat—Catmmando Tom. That’s the reason for our frequent references to working for the Cat at the Cat Factory. The shakeup in Max Marley’s world in the wake of his daughter’s death had been both personal and professional. Max Marley had gone into seclusion and remained there. That action spilled over to the professional side, leaving a gap in leadership at the top where Max had held the reins for nearly four decades as founder of Marvelous Marley World. We did the best we could to move forward in his absence...

“Voila. Time to eat.” As I turned to pull our scallops from the oven, I caught Miles eying Jack. His gaze was fixed on the detective, concentrating as he delivered his best cat version of the Vulcan mind probe. Miles had a single aim in mind, getting the human to carry out his prime directive. FEED THE CAT. It worked. Jack hopped off the bar stool and hollered the magic word. “Treats.” Miles dove off his seat and stood alert, his tail high as a kite as Jack dished up a tablespoon of tuna. It always amazes me how much enjoyment Miles derives from such a small thing. A lesson to his human companions. One of many our furry feline friends teach us—like gratitude for a job well done. Miles stopped, looked up, and blinked at us with what’s darn close to a wink, accompanied by a throaty hurrah. In minutes, we were all settled into the dining room. Jack and I devoured our dinners as Miles lounged near the wall of windows that gave him a view of the veranda. Despite my chef’s training, cooking dinner for others makes me anxious. It had been years since I prepared food in a kitchen at Marvelous Marley World, where I started straight out of culinary school as a chef. To be honest, these days I hardly cook at all. Fresh fruit with yogurt is dinner most nights. Occasionally, I hold a dinner party. That always gives me the jitters, too. I sighed as I finished my food. “The house has outdone itself, tonight. May I tip the chef with a kiss?” Jack asked. I leaned in to collect my gratuity and felt a wave of relief. Not to mention the tantalizing dance of sensations that goes along with one of those kisses.

“Ready for dessert?” “Am I ever. Bring on the mousse.” “Chocolate mousse. You know I have to get my fix.” I admit it. I’m a chocoholic. Jack stood up to help me remove the dirty dishes. As we headed to the kitchen, Miles jumped to his feet and unleashed an earsplitting yowl. “What on earth, Miles? You don’t get dessert; why are you yelling at me?” I looked at Jack. “Have you been slipping him extra treats after dinner?” “Moi? Non. Not after dinner. What is it, Miles?”

I tried to hide my smile realizing that Jack had advanced to the next level of cat ownership. By that, I mean being owned by a cat, the point at which you talk to the cat like it's a person. If Miles intended to respond, he had no chance to do so because my phone pinged to indicate someone sent me a message. Next, Jack’s phone began to ring. We both dashed into the kitchen and grabbed our phones. I froze as I read the message on my phone. ACTIVE SHOOTER. MARVELOUS MARLEY WORLD HEADQUARTERS...

I've escaped into Catmmando Mountain and the Marvelous Marley World for the last several days...and thoroughly enjoying spending time with Miles, a Siamese who was named after Miles Davis...and, later, Ella, who was named after Ella Fitzgerald! These two lovelies have combined into one family after a series of murders brought together Georgie Shaw and Jack Wheeler, a Homicide Detective with the local police department. 

Jack quickly made his interest known during the first investigation, while Georgie was noticing him as well, but not so overtly!  Georgia is not the traditional "amateur detective" for a cozy series. She is quite adverse to getting involved with the details of murder, staying away from the blood or other things that might get on her clothes (LOL), while relishing the time spent with Jack as each of the murder mysteries are solved... By Book 3, they were a couple and Jack brought Ella into the family, proving just how much he was willing and able to move toward a permanent family arrangement.

Max Marley is the creative genius who has grown richer than rich while working to create theme parks, a music world and so much more. He is known for being eccentric and sometimes going into temper tantrums when he doesn't get his way. Georgie is one of the few people who can think fast enough to quietly discuss options for his consideration during any turmoil. She has been with Marley's for many years and is now in senior management, but had, originally, been a chef in the kitchens--readers who enjoy cooking will be excited to learn that each book contains the recipes and secret tips from Georgie that were served in the various venues happening... Me, I flip through those pages since any chance of my becoming more interested in cooking than in reading, at my age, is about 10M to 1! LOL

Although Miles does not personally become involved with the investigations, it is clear that, through whatever cat magic he may have, he is able to immediately prepare Georgie that a cat-astrophe is on its way in which Georgie was to be pulled into the fray... And speaking of cat-astrophes, these books are full of fun puns regarding the word "cat" or other feline references... A nice break from the sometimes tense actions related to solving the first murder...which sometimes becomes dangerous for those conducting the investigation.

There is sufficient narrative to hook readers into each book's mystery, and sometimes even catches Georgie by surprise. Consider the parallel to the Disney World Enterprise and you can realize just how big--and how many ways, mischief and criminal acts can be conceived and put into action. I gave up trying to work through the mystery in each book, and just spent my time enjoying the characters, including Max and Ella, as well as learning about the various make-believe stars in Marley's World--The Furry Caped Avenger, Catmmando Tom, may be a superhero, but he's also a competitor with Mickey Mouse for who is the biggest and favorite with children who visited each theme park! Me, of course, the "Tom-Cat" is my choice!

This is the first three of a 9-book series, so far... So look for the next three coming! You've just got to start reading cat cozy mysteries, don't you think?!!!