A wealthy St. Louis socialite files for divorce only to see her life unravel amid threatening texts, arrest, jail time, confessions, and a liaison with an influential politician as a lover's triangle explodes.
Author James Ross
Author James Ross
More excitement arrives at Prairie Winds Golf Course on the east side of St. Louis when former Mrs. Missouri, Shari Daniels-Donnelly, in a fluke twist of a bottle cap earns a chance to win $1 million at America's greatest golf tournament, The Classic.
Shari is among the fashionable nouveau-riche, a member of prestigious Olde Blueblood Country Club and seeking excitement outside a stale union with real estate mogul, Tyler Cy Donnelly. After her high-powered and influential attorney, Leslie Potter, serves divorce papers it appears Shari is on the path to a luxurious lifestyle that includes young lovers, a multimillion dollar settlement, and freedom from the balls and chains of a boring marriage.
Events become complicated when a young Latin lover supplants a longtime friend who vies for Shari's attention. Between threatening texts, arrests, jail time, confessions, and a liaison with a U.S. Congresswoman Shari's pending divorce delivers chaos. When a lover is found shot to death in a carpool parking lot prior to a golf outing a detective duo is determined to find out who fired the shot.
Leslie paused, wondering if her client was bi-polar, naïve, or just plain stupid. “Look, you’ve been spouses and business partners; now the relationship is ending. Someone might be upset about that. Accidents can easily be arranged, especially out of the confines of the USA.”
“Are you saying that Tyler Cy might hurt me?”
“Stranger things have happened in domestic disputes.”
“He wouldn’t hurt a tick. Did I ever tell you about the time that one of his clients took him on a huntin’ trip?” Shari was set to go off on another tangent. Leslie glanced at her watch. Being a good listener was part of her job description, and it was billable. “A client took him to one of the duck clubs north of St. Peters. They had planned it for quite a while. The guy didn’t know that Tyler Cy had never shot a rifle or gun. They were up at three thirty. It was cool, overcast, and very misty. In fact, if I remember right, there was a steady rain and Tyler Cy—he’s such a pussy—didn’t want to go at the last minute because he thought he might catch a cold and be away from work for a couple of weeks.”
Leslie grinned. As pretentious as Shari was, she was kind of likeable.
“Tyler Cy went anyway. He didn’t want to damage the relationship. He had worked to get the guy’s business for a decade or more. And he looked so silly. I watched him go out the door. He had on brand new waterproof camouflage clothing and waders damn near up to his ass. I know because he made me go shopping for him! It was at one of those sporting goods shops at the Galleria. I got the whole outfit for him. Insulated gloves that were camouflaged! He even had on a waterproof flotation vest in case he fell in the river or somethin’.” Shari gasped for air. “Ha! How stupid do you think that would be? Fallin’ in the river?”
Leslie chuckled. Listening to Shari’s version of the events was amusing.
“They got out somewhere up in the flood plain where the Mississippi runs due east right before that crook in it where it flows to the north, and the first thing they did was go in the little cabin and fire up the skillet for a ham and egg breakfast. Then he said they polished off a fifth of Jack before the sun came up. Didn’t even pour it; they just passed the bottle around and everyone took a
swig until the bottle was empty.”
“Oh, you think that’s funny? He had never fired a rifle, let alone loaded one. He said they had to walk about forty yards to the blind and he got stuck in the mud. The dogs knew somethin’ good was gonna happen. They were bouncin’ off one another. Things got quiet as they sat and waited for the ducks.”