Welcome to the Weekend Writing Warriors
This past week has been pretty stressful. Hubs was back in the hospital, now in rehab getting his legs strengthened . . . again. So, it took me a while to get to your blogs. In the midst of all this, I got my 2nd covid shot. Hurray!
Thanks to everyone who stopped by and left a comment. I love the way your various minds work. 😊
I'm sharing another 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 near Grand Rapids. I'm continuing from where we left off last week. Now that her phones are working, she received a voice mail threat.
Some changes were made to the original.
I checked my jeans pocket. No phone. I patted all my pockets. Oh, for crying out loud. What was wrong with me? I must have left it upstairs in my apartment. No wait, I had it—
“Is this what you’re looking for?” Pete held out my phone with its gaudy pink protective cover. And my Swiss Army knife. “I found these under the desk.”
Since that was so short, here’s the rest of the scene.
I shoved the knife into my back pocket. The Pops had drilled into my head to always carry the multi-tool gadget. You never know when it would come in handy. I’d used the mini-screwdriver to take off switch plates to check the wires. I could see misplacing the knife but not my phone. Maybe when I was scooting out from under the desk, it had slid out of my pocket.
When I swiped up, nothing happened. Somehow, I must have shut down the phone completely. I’m not usually so careless. I chalked it up to being discombobulated over the lack of internet and phone service . . . and, of course, the missing Nick Palzetti.
I turned on my phone and the screen showed repeated calls from RJ, who peppered me with questions.
“Why didn’t you wait for me?” His face, already red with anger, turned darker. Could a twenty-year-old have a stroke? “Who is this guy? And what’s he doing frogging around with my system?”
He didn’t say frogging, of course. But I hold the line at repeating the F word. I’d never seen him this angry.
Pete gave him a smug smile. “I’m the one who fixed your system so it works.”
“It worked fine before you came,” RJ shot back. His chin jutted forward, ready for a fight.
Pete wasn’t any better with his clenched jaw and fists.
“Guys, guys.” I should be wearing a referee’s striped shirt. “Pete, I appreciate your help. As I said before, I’m not interviewing for a receptionist until tomorrow. RJ, I’m sorry you had to leave your convention early, but I do appreciate you coming. The important thing is that my office phone is working and so are the computers.” Thank God.
“I’ll be the judge of that.” RJ’s lips thinned, and a muscle ticked along his jaw. RJ, the most laid-back, easy-going guy I knew, hostile? “The next time you decide to replace me, Alex, have the decency to let me know.”
He slammed the outside door behind him.
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?
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