Sid’s second case is a “simple” double murder, with the guilty already dead. But the case grows more complicated when a local preacher’s wife disappears and Sid discovers that holy garb disguise the truth. But it takes a phantom from the 19th century to save Sid from an unholy killer.
Blue peeled off his clothes in the kitchen then stuffed them into a black plastic bag, relieved Ella had already left for church.
Bare-ass naked, he slipped into the garage and dumped the bag into the trash can, glad tomorrow was collection day. Beneath mounds of refuse at the landfill, the soiled clothes might as well be on another planet.
Upstairs, he turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature to one notch below scalding, then stepped inside.
While the hot water pounded on his head, he prayed for the heat to burn iniquity from his soul. But when he stepped out and towel-dried his reddened skin, flashes of the early morning horror returned as real as ever. He’d never meant to go that far—to—to…
He tossed the towel to the floor, went into his bedroom closet and selected a charcoal-gray suit. Then, pushing the early-morning images to the back of his mind while he dressed, he focused his thoughts on the upcoming worship service. He could pull this off, all he had to do was ask God’s help.
Excerpt
At the Agnes address, a man stood in the front yard, head and half his body under the hood of a beat-up truck.
“Mr. Agnes?”
The grease-stained man turned his head and looked at Sid. Irritation flicked across his face. He pulled himself out from under the hood, shoved a Houston Astros cap to the back of his head.
“Holy mother of God, when is it going to stop? Let me guess, you’re either a cop or a reporter, and you come to talk about the murders.” He snatched a work rag from the truck’s fender and wiped his hands, tossed the rag back on the truck.
“Ma’am,” he said, disgust in his voice, “I done told the deputies all I know. How in hell is a guy supposed to get a job done with all this shit going on?” He sucked through his teeth and turned back under the hood. “I’ve made all the statements I’m gonna make. Go the hell away!”
“Dempsey Durwood sent me,” she persisted, I’m a private detective. He believes his son is innocent. He’s hired me to clear Ned’s name.”
The Reed’s faith, a mystery to some, will be tested like never before. Will it hold? Mark’s love for his wife and their intimate romance is shattered by Brandy, a barmaid.
Jerry Lowenstein, an octogenarian and a nice guy, has written a fantastic mystery/ suspense novel that takes place just after WW2 on and near Bikini Atoll. He actually witnessed an atomic bomb test. Can you imagine that?
