Welcome to the Weekend Writing Warriors
Happy New Year, all. After a 5-month hiatus, I'm back and starting the new year right. One of my goals is to rejoin WeWriWa. I've missed you guys and your stories. My apologies for leaving you hanging back in July. My life was in turmoil. Consequently, The Spy is in limbo.
I'm sharing a snippet from the 2nd Alex O'Hara mystery novel, The Case of the Fabulous Fiancé. Alex is a P.I. in the small Lake Michigan resort town. She's not as financially desperate as she was in the first novel, thanks to the Feds who rewarded her for capturing an assassin.
She’s at it again. Alex O’Hara just can’t say no to a new investigation. What do a 45-year-old boyfriend, a deadbeat dad, and a teenage runaway have in common? All new cases. With no receptionist, phone and internet problems, and her own boyfriend in the wind, Alex has no idea how she’ll manage. But the question for the past three months is why did Nick disappear. Is this the end of O’Hara & Palzetti?
“Lexie, hold up.”
I looked around to see who was calling me by my childhood name—as if I didn’t recognize her voice. A watery sun shone through the trees of Riverside Park. I’d been on autopilot on my morning run since leaving downtown Far Haven. When I looked over my shoulder, I tripped on a tree root. Klutzy Alex O’Hara strikes again.
Windmilling my arms, I righted myself before doing a face plant in the snow. Dottie Matthews, in bright red sweats and a gray vest with fluorescent green stripes, staggered up to me.
“Hey, girl.” Dottie leaned over, hands on her knees, and panted. “Were you ignoring me?”
I jogged in place. “No. Just thinking.”
“About Nick? Have you heard from him yet?”
“Don’t go there, Dottie.”
My best friend since kindergarten knew all my secrets regarding Nick “The Rat” Palzetti. She knew more than she should about his return last October and my falling in love with him. With interrogation techniques honed on three preschoolers, she also knew about his disappearance over two months ago.
And a little more:
“Any news from Chief Hoesen?” she asked.
“I told you before. No. Now stop asking.”
“You have to give me more than that.”
“No, I don’t.”
She didn’t need to know he’d check hospitals and morgues in a fifty-mile radius from Far Haven. And on his own time. Our chief of police could be discreet when he wanted to.
“C’mon . . . what did your . . . investigation . . . turn up?” Her words came out in clumps. She was getting winded. “I can’t believe . . .he left you on Christmas Eve—”
“I know exactly when he left, Dorothy.”
“—and on your—”
“If you keep talking, I’m going to leave you in the dust.”