Real Murder (Lovers in Crime Mystery Book 2)

Real Murder

A Lovers in Crime Mystery

By

Lauren Carr

REAL MURDER: Book Information

All Rights Reserved © 2014 by Lauren Carr

Published by Acorn Book Services

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted  in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or  mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author.

For information call: 304-995-1295

or Email:
writerlaurencarr@
gmail.com

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Published in the United States of America

Dedication

To My Family and Friends  in Chester, West Virginia.

It is true. You can take the girl out of the small town, but you can’t take the small town out of the girl!

Table of Contents

Cast of Characters

Epigraph

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Epilogue

Til Murder Do We Part

About the Author

Check Out  Lauren Carr’s Mysteries!

Cast of Characters

(in order of appearance)

Bart:
Bouncer at Dolly’s Gentlemen’s Club.

Larry Van Patton:
Bartender at Dolly’s Gentlemen’s Club.

Bianca:
A slender redhead who wore her hair in thick waves down to her shoulders. She’s one of Dolly’s girls.

Ava Tucker:
A redhead whose girl-next-door quality made her a good choice for new members at Dolly’s Gentlemen’s Club. Friday the thirteenth is not her lucky day.

Congressman Roderick Hilliard:
United States Congressman from West Virginia. On Friday the thirteenth, his private plane slammed into a moutainside, killing him and two of his assistants.

Congresswoman Rachel Hilliard:
Roderick’s widow. Friday the thirteenth was her lucky day. After her husband’s sudden death, she becomes West Virginia’s new congresswoman. She is known as the Ice Queen.

Joshua Thornton:
Hancock County Prosecuting Attorney and former JAG lawyer. Widowed father of five. Now his children are growing up and leaving the nest, which allows him the freedom to fall in love with Detective Cameron Gates.

Tracy Thornton:
Joshua Thornton’s older daughter. A gourmet chef, she is studying at the CIA.

Deputy Mike Gardner:
Hancock County sheriff’s deputy. Joshua’s childhood friend. He disappears on Friday the thirteenth. Joshua Thornton is the last one to see him alive—except for his killer.

Dr. Tad MacMillan:
Chester’s home town doctor and Hancock County Medical Examiner. Used to be the town drunk and womanizer. Married to Jan.

Jan Martin MacMillan:
Editor of
The Review
newspaper in East Liverpool, Ohio. Tad MacMillan’s wife. New mother to Tad Junior.

Donny Thornton:
Joshua’s youngest son. Sixteen-years-old. Last baby still left in the nest.

Woody:
Donny Thornton’s friend. The only working out he does is his thumbs on video games.

Lieutenant Miles Dugan:
Cameron Gates’ supervisor at the state police barracks in Pennsylvania.

Detective Cameron Gates:
Pennsylvania State Police Homicide Detective. Joshua Thornton’s bride of forty-five days.

Sheriff Curt Sawyer:
Hancock County’s sheriff.

Hunter Gardner:
Mike Gardner’s son. He took Tracy Thornton to prom. Accepted to the police academy, he plans to take his father’s place in the sheriff’s department.

Belle Fontaine:
Hunter’s mother. Mike’s widow. She remarried as soon as her first husband was declared legally dead.

Royce Fontaine:
Hunter’s step-father.

Irving:
Cameron’s Maine Coon cat. Irving has issues, not the least of which is the human male who married his woman. You’d have issues, too, if you looked like a skunk.

Admiral:
Joshua’s Irish Wolfhound-Great Dane dog. Irving’s friend. His only issue is climbing up onto the furniture when he thinks no one is watching.

Douglas O’Reilly:
A student at West Point. Legend says he drove his Mustang into Raccoon Creek after finding out his girlfriend was pregnant. Is that really what happened?

Eleanor O’Reilly:
Douglas’ mother. She refuses to believe her son committed suicide. Unfortunately, the police refuse to investigate a case that isn’t a real murder.

Cynthia Gardner:
Mike’s mother, or is she?

Dolly Houseman:
The kindly blue-haired old lady who lives across the street from the Thorntons. Al Capone was her Uncle Al.

Lorraine Winter:
The neighborhood’s nasty old woman. Donny says the snakes avoid her yard.

Colonel Henry MacCrae:
West Virginia State Police Superintendent. He makes a special trip to Chester from Charleston to investigate Mike Gardner’s murder.

Philip Lipton:
Head of the state crime lab in Weirton, West Virginia.

Virgil Null:
Murder Victim.
His first night with Ava Tucker was his last.

Russell Null:
Virgil Null’s older brother. He is on the board of county commissioners. He now owns and manages Null Landscaping, family business for more than fifty years.

Flo O’Reilly:
Douglas’ sister. After his death, she is left behind to care for her family.

Anthony Tanner:
Convicted murderer suspected of being up to his old tricks once again.

Tiffany:
Pole dancer who is taken hostage.

Dirk (Slim) Reed:
Once the main insurance guy in the Ohio Valley. Now he is in his nineties and has a memory like a bank vault.

Epigraph

“The idea that everything is purposeful really changes the way you live. To think that everything that you do has a ripple effect, that every word that you speak, every action that you make affects other people and the planet.”

Victoria Moran, Author

Prologue

Friday the Thirteenth, February 13, 1976:  Dolly’s Gentlemen’s Club, Newell, West Virginia

In the upper tip of West Virginia’s northern panhandle, the tiny town of Newell has two claims to fame—Homer Laughlin China Company, whose wares are used in restaurants and fine dining all over the world, and the Waterford Race Track. Folks travel for miles to see the Thoroughbreds race for the finish line.

Off the record, Newell also had another claim to fame in the Ohio Valley. It was located a half mile off Route 208, the first left beyond the race track—Dolly’s Gentlemen’s Club.

On a lazy weekday afternoon, one would think that the huge white antebellum house with a wrap-around porch and verandah off the second story, all nestled behind two huge  willow trees, was simply the grand home of a gentleman farmer.

Those not in the know would assume the young women living there were some lucky farmer’s lovely daughters. The local law enforcement told people that the establishment was a boarding house for women—who happened to throw big parties on the weekends.

There was no sign out front because Dolly didn’t have to advertise. Some of the richest and most powerful men in the Ohio Valley knew where to go for the most private of entertainment.

Fridays were always the club’s busiest nights. After a long week of wheeling and dealing, the valley’s male movers and shakers would swing into Dolly’s for a drink or two or three or four, and then go upstairs to one of the private rooms for some personal entertainment.

Or, if there was a particularly sensitive issue that needed to be discussed in top secrecy, Dolly’s parlor was available for a private meeting with all the necessary ambiance, which  included a fully stocked bar and a lovely bar maid.

By one o’clock in the morning, the bar would close up and the men would be sent home to their families. Bart, the club’s bouncer, would sometimes have to help a customer who had had too much to drink to his car.

On this Friday, the thirteenth, Bart was in a hurry to get home to his wife. During the day, he worked as a bank security guard. On the weekends, he earned extra cash under the table by taking care of Dolly’s girls. A faithful husband, he could be counted on to take care of the women whom he protected like a big brother looking after his little sisters—all eight of them.

Since the grandfather clock in the grand foyer now read an hour past midnight, it was technically the fourteenth—Valentine’s Day. Bart anticipated giving his wife an early  present of roses and champagne when he got home.

The bartender, Larry, came in from the store room behind the kitchen. “Well, I just had to chase another one out.”

“Another what?” Bart asked, hoping it hadn’t been a  persistent journalist looking for dirt on one of the politicians who regularly patronized Dolly’s.

“Nosey wife looking to see where her husband goes on Friday nights.” Larry went behind the bar. “I found her in the kitchen. She saw me and skedaddled out the back door like a bat out of hell.”

“Whose wife was she?”

“How should I know?” Larry replied. “She was an ugly old biddie with shoulders like a linebacker and long gray hair tied back in a bun like some old schoolmarm. No wonder her husband, whoever he is, hangs out here.”

“The party meeting in the parlor is all done, Bart.” Bianca, a slender redhead who wore her hair in thick waves down to her shoulders, carried in a tray containing two brandy snifters. Even in her high heels and tight red leather mini skirt, she strode in with the grace of a dancer, which she was. She was one of the most popular dancers in the lounge. “They left a half an hour ago.” She sighed. “What a snooty tramp—you’d think since she used to be one of us … I’m tempted to make an anonymous phone call to her husband to let him know exactly what he’s married to.” Grumbling, she took the glasses back to the kitchen.

Sitting at the bar, Bart admired her sexy stride to the back of the house until he caught sight of Jaclyn’s client coming down the stairs and going out the front door.

Only one more left. That tall skinny kid who went upstairs with Ava.

As a security guard, Bart prided himself on his powers of observation. He managed to keep track of the time each client went upstairs, which girl he went up with, and what time he left. Bart considered his powers of observation to be a necessary talent.

He checked his watch. This last john had gone up with Ava at ten-twenty. Since the client looked barely old enough to drink, the bartender had carded him. A redhead who possessed a girl-next-door quality, Ava was a natural choice for him.

After the couple went up the stairs to Ava’s room, Larry joked with the bouncer about it being the kid’s first time. They rarely saw johns so young and nervous. A private club, Dolly’s catered to a much more sophisticated clientele.

Give them another five minutes.
Even so, Bart was anxious to go home to his own woman and get away from the cigarette smoke and flowery perfume smell.

“Hey,” he called out to Jaclyn when he saw her start up the stairs after wishing her client, one of her regulars, a sincere good-bye. “Can you tell if Ava is done with her gentleman?”

Jaclyn frowned. “I didn’t know she had one up there.”

“She took him up there before ten-thirty,” Bart said. “He hasn’t come out yet.”

“Maybe they fell asleep,” Jaclyn said. “The light’s off in her room.” She paused. “But then, the music is on.”

Each of the girls had a stereo in her room to play music in order to drown out the noise of other girls and their gentlemen. The music served as a signal that the girl had a client and was not to be disturbed.

“She’s not allowed to let him spend the night.” Bart stood up.

The two of them went upstairs to the room at the end of the hall.

The bouncer banged on the door. “Ava! Wake up! It’s time for your gentleman to go home. Wake him up.”

They waited.

“Ava!” Jaclyn wrapped her robe around her. “Wake up, Sweetie. You know men aren’t allowed to spend the night. You don’t want to get into trouble with management, do you?”

The other girls on the floor strolled out into the hallway. A few whose clients had left earlier were dressed in their real nightclothes, which included terry robes. Others had night cream on their faces.

They all listened for Ava to respond.

“Ava!” Bart tried turning the doorknob. The door was locked. As loud as they were, Ava should have been answering the door. Then he was worried.
Had she overdosed? Did she even use drugs?
He didn’t know Ava well enough to know if she did.

He took the keys he had for the bedroom doors out of his pocket. As a guard, he had the keys in case any of the girls got into trouble with a client, or, as in this case, possibly had a medical emergency.

He unlocked the door and forced his way inside. The lights were indeed off. The girls crowded in the doorway to see what was preventing Ava from answering the door.

Bart flipped on the wall switch to bathe the room in light.

In unison, the girls screamed at a variety of hysterical pitches.

The stereo was set to repeat the song “Stairway to Heaven” by Led Zeppelin.

Ava was in bed. Her last client lay next to her. Both of their hands were tied behind their backs. Duct tape covered their noses and mouths to stifle the cries for help they had tried to make while being killed in silence.