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Authorsden/JoyceMBell; author, writer, poet, and artist
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Category:
Mystery/Suspense
Type: Fiction
Pages: 177
Copyright: Aug 15, 2018
Price: $4.99 (eBook)
Victoria Prieste and Ruby Battle, those 2 retired, Afro American, amateur sleuths are back! They are at home, in New York City, where they are searching for a missing relative and find...so much more!
In this Brand New Mystery Victoria Prieste and Ruby Battle, retired teachers, are back on the scene and once again they turn into amateur sleuths. This time they are at home in New York City, where they are praying and putting their faith in God, as they respond to a call for help to find a missing relative. But as they dig for answers they soon discover that the 'skeletons in the closet' are shrouded with webs…that conceal …Murder!
And the question is; Do we only extend compassion to the so-called good people? Where would any of us be...if God treated us that way?
A wonderful, faith encompassed, psychological, suspense thriller that will have you guessing until the end...
Excerpt
Deciding to walk she arrived early. She stood in the shadows and waited. From the deserted wharf she could see the glow of the moon dancing upon the blue-black waters, she moved deeper into the dark. Thoughts of so many yesterdays passed in and out of her mind. The deceptions, the music, the twirls, the sorrow, the tears…life!
She hadn’t bothered to look at her watch. The time was unimportant. She pulled her head deeper into the over- sized hood of her jacket and even more securely over her face. Then...footsteps were heard.
She watched as the shadow passed her and moved to the wharf's edge. It too seemed to be captivated with the marvelous display of light on the water. Noiselessly she moved forward. Her movement was not calculated or careful, but focused and purposeful. Was it a squeak in the boards, a squeak so light that she had not heard? Or, perhaps, fate tapped the shadow's shoulder, but just before she reached, it turned. And she watched as it advanced the few steps towards her, with outstretched arms. It irritated her that he, so consumed with his own overwhelming arrogance and pride, could ignore the human inclination of common sense and rebuke any encroaching foreboding of peril, which he must have felt. She allowed his arms to encircle her but refused to look at him. And she listened to his voice, to each rehearsed, deceitful syllable that poured from his rotten tongue, through caustic lips.
When he drew her closer his embrace felt like greedy tentacles intent on sucking the life out of her, but she would not permit such taking to even begin. Pressing against him hard her hand swiftly found her jacket’s pocket, and she felt the impact of the 6 silenced bullets carrying out their assignment. Only then did she lift her face to look into his blank eyes, that stared at nothing! Even before he staggered back, and his body disturbed the serene waters with a loud splash, she knew, he was dead. The moon was still shining when her hand slipped back into her pocket. And, once again, she decided to walk.
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