The
Missing Mah Jongg Player
A
Steve Wade Mystery Book 1
by
Iris Wynne
Genre:
Crime Mystery, Thriller
Steve
Wade is an ex-cop with an ex-wife and girlfriends he could never
commit to. Now he’s a private investigator known for his knack in
solving crimes.
This
handsome private eye never has a problem finding customers. His
newest case involves five frantic Mah Jongg players who are in search
of one of their players who disappeared after meeting a man on an
Internet dating site.
Wade
is reluctant to take the case, believing it to be just another woman
not wanting to be found. But the Mah Jongg players are insistent that
Marilou did not vanish on her own. In the meantime, they organize a
Valentine’s speed-dating gig inviting all the suspects who dated
Marilou in an attempt to find her.
As
he watches the dinner play out he begins to realize she may not have
gone willingly when all the suspects are before him. He even hires
his sometime drop-dead gorgeous girlfriend for the event to lure the
culprit out into the open. Steve just hopes no one goes home with a
potential killer.
Wade
has to work fast as the case begins to unravel when lies and betrayal
become evident and the truth of what happened to Marilou becomes
clear. Will he be able to find the suspect before they choose another
victim? This may be his biggest challenge yet.
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Marilou Dickson was sitting at the bar, sixty
miles away from Toronto on a Saturday night waiting for her date. The only
problem was she didn’t know who he was. She got in touch with him on an online
dating site and his picture looked great, even though he was much younger than
her. A full head of dark hair, straight nose, large hazel eyes and great abs
from a previous picture he sent her. She imagined his strong arms wrapped
around her as he made love to her. She was tired of being alone as age and
beauty were slowly taking its toll while drinking and smoking was becoming an
obsession that a good man could help her control.
The noise in the bar was unbearable and she was
dying for a cigarette. At least in the old days before cell phones and
Internet, you could smoke. The place was packed with pretty girls in floozy
outfits, some displaying unwanted flesh. Youth could get away with many things
and the sleazier you got, the more attention from the men.
It was like that years ago before marriage and
grown kids.
Her phone buzzed which made her spill her drink on
her new gold cashmere sweater.
“Damn!” she said.
“May I buy you another drink?”
She looked up and there was her man, looking
better in person.
“Hi!” she said tying not to slur her words.
“Let’s get out of here,” he whispered to her.
“What about my drink?”
“Let’s go to my place.” He smiled as his white
teeth flashed at her.
She wanted to stay here and enjoy the bar and
perhaps dance. She wasn’t ready to go to his place yet. She sighed and smiled
up at him.
“Why don’t we just stay here?”
“You’ll get too drunk.”
She grinned at him, thrilled that he should be so
concerned about her. Her phone buzzed again. She gave him a shrug.
“Sorry–I may as well answer this or I’ll never
hear the end of it.”
She was going to tell him her friends were worried
about her, warned her about going out with strangers–blah-blah. She decided not
to say anything. She noticed that his hair was an unnatural black hue, almost
like a wig. She wouldn’t care less if he was bald–didn’t men understand that?
His glasses were tinted unable to really see the color of his eyes. Something
in the pit of her stomach was telling her something was off. She answered her
phone walking a distance away from him and the bar. He was watching her though,
his look almost a leer. Perhaps it was because she was drunk that she thought
this. Nevertheless she would not leave alone and go back into an empty house
especially on a Saturday night.
“Marilou is that you?” Harriet said, her voice
full of concern.
“What’s up, I’m in the middle of a date.”
“Just checking to see if you’re okay.”
“I’m fine really, you don’t have to worry.”
“Where are you?”
“Outside of Toronto.”
“What!”
“Harriet, I’m a big girl.”
She glanced over at him. He bought a drink and was
sipping it rather quickly. He was watching her so she waved to him.
“What does he look like?”
“I don’t know, he’s wearing a dark wig and glasses.”
“Marilou, that is not a good sign.”
Harriet could hear a deep voice asking her friend
something.”
“Gotta go Harriet, see you Monday night.”
There was a click and the line went dead.
The
Missing Housewife
A
Steve Wade Mystery Book 2
Steve
Wade is an ex-cop and now private investigator. His reputation for
solving crimes is growing.
His
newest client is a man charged with a murder he says he did not
commit. The convict's sister has evidence that the person he
supposedly murdered is alive and living somewhere in Shanghai after
an old classmate of hers sees a double of the murdered victim while
touring parts of Asia.
Is
the murder victim, a woman, really alive and the man charged with her
murder innocent?
Steve
does not know what to think. Should he believe a convicted killer who
was once a drug addict living on the streets? Steve however does not
want an innocent man to spend the rest of his life in jail.
It's
a dilemma he must think through and to try to prove the convicted
murderer's innocence.
She had left her group and her husband in
order to go to the Peace Hotel washroom which was one of or perhaps even the
nicest washroom she had ever seen. Its decor was all black and white marble
with gold faucets matching the gold chandeliers along the walls that lit the
room. Each toilet had its own cubicle and a shiny black door. American style—no
hole in the ground—to every tourist’s delight.
And that is when she saw her.
Connie stared at the woman beside her who was
washing her face. A ghost from the past; a woman who was ostensibly dead four
years ago. She blinked back at the woman a few times. She hadn’t seen her in
over ten years. She had known her since childhood which was embedded forever as
a memory.
And Connie Stern’s memory was exceptional. She
was the type of person who never forgot a face.
The woman beside her was tall and slim. Her
hair, once a shiny dark hue, was now peppered with gray. But those eyes were
the same, an unusual dark green that glowed like emeralds. That was her
trademark along with her natural beauty. She was the second child of a famous
music producer from Toronto. His five beautiful daughters had lived in
Rosedale, one of the wealthiest areas in Toronto. The youngest three were from
another marriage, but they all lived together in harmony with the second wife,
or so the story goes.
If that was Patricia Gold, she would be in her
forties and the woman across from her was definitely that age. Her
attractiveness was gone, though, after years of living on the street.
It had been a surprise in the community, to
say the least, when she left her husband and children in search of drugs.
Connie could not believe it when it happened. She had known Patricia well
growing up and never saw a sign of it, of the unhappiness or the addiction to
drugs. She did know, however, that Patricia wanted to be thinner so she could
model. She glanced at her again. The woman glimpsed back at her briefly as she
washed her hands.
Connie thought of Patricia's husband, whom she
knew in high school. He was popular and could pick any girl he wanted. When
they married, she and Patricia were no longer friends which always happened in
a big city. Different universities, new jobs, and location changes all caused
people to make new friends. Nevertheless, they were the perfect couple,
everyone thought. Connie always had fond memories of her.
Connie put her hands in the dryer, peering
over at the woman again. She remembered one of the last times seeing her. It
was years ago when she and her own husband were walking their kids in strollers
when Patricia and her husband drove by and asked them for directions to the
nearest park. Their children were sitting in the back seat, silently staring up
at them. It was only Connie who had recognized them but said nothing as her
husband rambled off the directions. Too much time had passed for either of them
to say anything. Everyone looked different with age anyway. Still, she never
forgot a face.
Another time, she had seen her at a bar
midtown, around Yonge and Eglinton. Connie and two of her friends had decided
to go out on the town without kids or spouses, like old times. She hated it
though, missing her husband and children, and was just as happy to be home with
them. Let the singles have the single life, she had thought. But she did see
Patricia Gold there, all dressed up, looking lovely, holding a drink with
another old friend who Connie also knew in high school. Her friend was a runner
and to this day would be seen running down Avenue Road as if the devil was
trying to catch up to her.
And that was the last time she saw Patricia,
until now, that is, if it was her.
She held her breath. “Patricia?”
The woman looked up and turned to her with a
frown.
“Patricia Gold, is that really you?”
The woman’s green eyes opened wide along with
her mouth. She stared back for a second and then ran out of the washroom,
leaving Connie staring back at the swinging door. Connie put her hands down on
the white granite sink and wondered, of all things, if the sink was real gold,
gold plated or just painted gold. The chandeliers flickered and her reflection
staring back at her in the mirror looked flushed and confused. Did she see a
ghost or was it a double? She did what the other woman did and
rinsed her face. She was wrong—she had hoped—and shook her head trying to
ignore what had just happened. She would continue her vacation and carry on as
if nothing had happened.
Iris
Wynne is a book lover, a day dreamer and a hopeless romantic. She is
a writer of cozy mysteries with an element of romance. She is a
mother of two girls and in her spare time she dog walks, plays golf
in the summer and of course grabs a game of Mah Jongg whenever she
can.
Iris
lives in Toronto, Canada with her husband. Her children live on their
own and her parents are relieved to receive a text message from them
now and then.
1 comments:
Great excerpt, LOVE the question about is it REALLY Patricia Gold. I love crime/mystery romantic suspense novels. Thanks for the chance to win :)
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