House to Kill For

by Judith C. Reveal

Lindsey Gale Series, Vol. 3

As Lindsey Gale's life begins to return to a moderate form of normality, her ex-husband, John Michael, shows up, claiming he wants her back. Already in a committed relationship with Bobby Smith, the Caroline County Sheriff, Lindsey emphatically declines. Not to be put off, John Michael purchases a local historical home and moves his entire entertainment company to Greensboro, much to the dismay of his junior partners. At the opening of his newly renovated home, Lindsey, Bobby, and Conrad Trent, all appear only to watch as the wife of one of John Michael's partners is found murdered. Bobby steps in and takes on the role as investigating officer and within hours a local businesswoman disappears, and soon thereafter John Michael is murdered. Mayhem ensues as Lindsey becomes a suspect in John Michael's murder, and Bobby is forced to remove himself from the investigation. Through the competent sleuthing of Lindsey, Conrad, and Bobby, the murderer is uncovered, but not before Lindsey's life is put in jeopardy.

ISBN 978-1-61386-025-0 Mystery, detective,

Chapter 1

John Michael Turnet flipped the switch on the blender and listened as the ice crunched, producing a frothy strawberry daiquiri. Yick he mumbled to himself. He preferred Gray Goose vodka on ice--the colder, the better. He had recently taken to keeping a bottle in the freezer. He poured the daiquiri into a delicate glass, placed both the daiquiri and the Gray Goose on a bamboo tray, and walked into the living room.

His eyes wandered to the view from the 70th floor of his high-rise apartment in Chicago, overlooking Grant Park and to Lake Michigan beyond. A low rolling cloud passed the balcony window, blocking the twilight sky, just as he approached Stephanie with the drinks.

"I really don't know how you can drink these sweet drinks. The taste sticks in the back of my throat."

He held out the tray as she took the bright pink drink and drew it up to her mouth. Her lethal nails, painted blood red and her matching lipstick blended into the pink of the daiquiri. She took a small sip and nodded her approval.

"I like the sweetness of the drink. It goes down so smoothly," she responded.

"This is your third Daiquiri. Perhaps you can avoid overdoing it tonight. Our guests will be arriving any moment and it would be nice to greet them sober."

Stephanie threw her head back, drank the entire drink in two swallows, drew her hand across her mouth smearing her lipstick, and smiled her wicked smile. She turned toward the fireplace, aglow with warm embers, and threw the glass, hitting the exact center of the fire. The glass broke and the fire hissed. The room chilled for just a moment. The cold Chicago December settled over the room.

John Michael just stared at her. Another moment of peace shattered like that glass.

"How's that for not overdoing it?" She asked. "Oh, I suppose sweet little Lindsey would never think of doing something so gauche!" Her voice throbbed between anger and hurt.

"You would be absolutely right about that. Lindsey would never have done something so tactless."

The sound of the doorbell, rung from seventy floors below, interrupted Stephanie's retort. John Michael placed the tray on the kitchen counter and buzzed the guests into the lobby. He made a quick check of the fireplace and determined that no glass shards landed on the floor outside of the fire. He would clean up the mess later. Within minutes of hearing the bell, a knock at the door announced their guests had arrived. Stephanie rushed to the door and opened it to two couples--Barbara and Donald Lamar, and Dorothy and Virgil Reed--John Michael's business partners and their wives. The women exchanged air kisses and the tension in the air increased twofold.

"JM, old boy, good to see you. Where's the 'good stuff'?" Donald asked, removing his coat and rubbing his hands together while looking for the bar. Spotting his quarry, he left Barbara and hurried toward the liquor.

"Help yourself," John Michael laughed. He was relieved to have company to buffer him from another night of arguing with Stephanie.

"I'll just take a Corona!" Virgil called, crowding up behind Donald.

Natalie, the maid, appeared from another room, walking on silent steps, avoiding the eyes of both Stephanie and John Michael. She removed the coats and disappeared as quickly and quietly as she had arrived. Barbara and Dorothy preceded Stephanie into the living room as silence surrounded the women.

Stephanie was 'odd-man-out' in this grouping. John Michael and his business partners and their wives had established a long term relationship, sometimes edgy, but always profitable. JDV Entertainment had begun as a small agency representing local actors in Baltimore but after a rough beginning they invested in a moderately sized agency in Chicago, and never looked back.

It was during this time that John Michael made his biggest mistake. His marriage to his first wife, Lindsey, came unraveled when a beautiful young actress caught his eye. Lindsey would have none of it, while John Michael saw his star rising and his opportunities opening. Lindsey left as the marriage dissolved; she took back her maiden name, and started a new life as the owner of The Greensboro Press, a small newspaper on Maryland's Eastern Shore.

John Michael's success continued to grow and the situation with Lindsey became the cause for amusement at dinner parties. But as John Michael wrestled the role as leader of the agency from his partners, it became evident that his personal life was unsettled.

He looked across the room at Stephanie, his now third wife, and knew she was not long for his world. Her beauty notwithstanding, he found her to be a spoiled, whimpering self-centered woman whose interests revolved around spending money. Conversations with her were boring to the point of being almost non-existent. John Michael found her ability to maintain even a modest intellect, failing, and his thoughts about Lindsey grew with mounting frequency. It was time for Lindsey to come back into his life but he knew that would be a challenge that would consume him.

Natalie appeared again on silent steps as she lit the candles on the dining room table. A young African American woman, she made a point of being transparent. She approached Donald who had fixed drinks for himself, Virgil, Stephanie, Dorothy, and Barbara, and placed the drinks on a silver tray. An imperceptible nod from her indicated that dinner was ready and John Michael directed his guests into the dining room. Within moments, Natalie followed, serving the drinks then disappearing back into the kitchen.

"JM, I don't know where you found this woman, but she is amazing." Dorothy Reed sat next to John Michael on his right, and raised her glass of Zinfandel in acknowledgment.

"Why, thank you Dot, aren't you sweet." Stephanie slurred her words, interrupting before John Michael could respond. And cool silence draped across the table. Only Stephanie did not notice. "May I have another daiquiri, dear?" She asked, holding out her empty glass on teetering fingers.

"Stephanie, I think Dorothy was referring to Natalie, not to you. " John Michael grimaced at his wife as a deep crimson color appeared in splotches across his throat.

Dorothy shot a quick look at Barbara but remained silent.

"Oh," Stephanie retorted. "That's right, and she doesn't like being called Dot. Something about her childhood, I believe. Poor, your parents were poor, weren't they, dear?" Stephanie tipped her glass back and drained one last drop of the daiquiri. "Well, since you're not going to get it for me, I guess I'll have to get it myself." She rose on wobbly legs and staggered back to the bar, leaving everyone in an uncomfortable silence.

"I apologize. I have given up trying to make excuses for her behavior--I can only apologize and hope that you will forgive her."

His words were greeted with murmurs all around, when the sound of a door sliding open in the distance and a cold breeze suddenly wafted through the room. Everyone looked around at one another, when the dark night was filled with the shattering sound of a scream, disappearing in the distance.