Open Season for Murder (A Mac Faraday Mystery Book 10)
Read Open Season for Murder (A Mac Faraday Mystery Book 10) Online
Authors: Lauren Carr
Tags: #mystery, #whodunit, #police procedural, #murder, #cozy, #crime
Open Season
for
Murder
A Mac Faraday Mystery
By
Lauren Carr
Open Season for Murder: Book Information
All Rights Reserved © 2015 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.
Designed by Acorn Book Services
Publication Managed by Acorn Book Services
304-995-1295
Cover designed by Todd Aune
Spokane, Washington
ASIN: B00WDR6AJI
Published in the United States of America
Cast of Characters
(in order of appearance)
Ashton Piedmont:
Last seen five years ago, swimming naked in the dark chilly waters of Deep Creek Lake.
Carlisle Green
: Billionaire heiress. She was the last one to see Ashton Piedmont alive. Unfortunately, she has no memory of that night—including whether or not she had killed her.
Gloria Lander
: Carlisle Green’s “difficult” neighbor.
Parker Lander:
Gloria Lander’s husband. He tried to keep the peace between his wife and their party girl neighbor that night.
Mac Faraday:
Retired homicide detective. On the day his divorce became final, he inherited $270 million and an estate on Deep Creek Lake from his birth mother, Robin Spencer.
Archie Monday
: Former editor and research assistant to world-famous mystery author Robin Spencer. She is now Mac Faraday’s wife.
Gnarly
: Mac Faraday’s German shepherd. Another part of his inheritance from Robin Spencer. Gnarly used to belong to the United States Army, who refuses to talk about him.
Robin Spencer
: Mac Faraday’s late birth mother and world-famous mystery author. As an unwed teenager, she gave him up for adoption. After becoming America’s queen of mystery, she found her son and made him her heir. Her ancestors founded Spencer, Maryland, located along the shores of Deep Creek Lake, a resort area in Western Maryland.
Police Chief Patrick O’Callaghan
: David’s late father. Spencer’s legendary police chief. The love of Robin Spencer’s life and Mac Faraday’s birth father.
Lindsey York
: Billionaire heiress—until her father Randolph York disowned her. Now she has to find other ways to keep herself in the lifestyle to which she has become accustomed.
Kassandra Van Dyke:
Last year’s Playmate of the Year. Her father is grooming her for reality stardom.
David O’Callaghan
: Spencer police chief. Son of the late police chief, Patrick O’Callaghan. Mac Faraday’s best friend and half-brother.
Tonya:
Spencer Police Department Desk Sergeant. She runs things at the police station.
Vincent Van Dyke
: One time sex symbol and television star. He’s come to Spencer to produce a pilot for a reality television show starring his daughter. He’ll do anything for a comeback.
Jeff Ingles
: Manager of the Spencer Inn, the five-star resort owned by Mac Faraday, who likes to keep Ingles’ life interesting.
Brian Gallagher:
Summer intern at the Spencer Inn. The poor college student doesn’t have a penny to his name. He’s also got a secret.
Ben Fleming:
Garrett County Prosecuting Attorney. His wife is Senator Catherine Fleming.
Rudy Crowe:
Works in public relations at the Spencer Inn. Mac has trouble remembering his name.
Riva Sinclair:
She’s tracked her runaway husband Rock Sinclair and his mistress to the Spencer Inn.
Rock Sinclair:
Television producer of investigative news shows. Claims he’s not having an affair with his lovely protege Jasmine Simpson. Riva Sinclair’s estranged husband.
Jasmine Simpson:
Rock Sinclair’s lovely protege. She wants to be an investigative news producer and television journalist. Claims she was best friends with Ashton Piedmont.
Samuel Nash:
Director for Jasmine and Rock’s in-depth investigative report.
Catherine Fleming:
Ben Fleming’s wife and Archie Monday’s friend. She is assisting Archie Monday in coordinating the Diablo Ball. She’s also a United States Senator from Maryland.
Chelsea Adams:
Paralegal for Ben Fleming. David O’Callaghan’s girlfriend. Suffering from epilepsy, she has Molly, a service dog trained to sense and warn of seizures.
Dr. Elizabeth Breckenridge
: Chair of the medical school at the University of Maryland. She has been considered a pioneer in medicine publishing her research on 3D printing technology for transplant surgery.
A.J. Wagner:
Ashton’s boyfriend. They went to pre-med together. They grew close after his father, president of the University of Maryland, passed away shortly after her grandfather died.
Corey Haim:
A.J. Wagner’s best friend. He’s very loyal and protective of his friend. How loyal and protective? You’re going to find out.
Rachel Breckenridge
: Elizabeth’s daughter. She grew up with Ashton Piedmont.
Deputy Chief Arthur Bogart (Bogie):
Spencer’s Deputy Police Chief. David’s godfather. Don’t let his gray hair and weathered face fool you.
Dr. Dora Washington
: Garrett County Medical Examiner.
Hector Langford:
Chief of Security at the Spencer Inn. A lean, gray-haired Australian, Hector has been with the Inn for over twenty-five years.
Officers Fletcher, Brewster,
and
Zigler
: Officers with the Spencer Police Department. They serve under Police Chief David O’Callaghan.
Gopher:
Camera Operator assigned to follow Lindsey York and capture everything on camera.
Betty Cosgrove
: Registration desk manager at the Spencer Inn. She may be a grandmother in her forties, but Ben claims her legs are what draws in most of the Spencer Inn’s male guests—particularly Randolph York.
Savannah Cosgrove
: Young server at the Spencer Inn. A single mother, she is Betty’s daughter.
Randolph York:
Lindsey York’s billionaire father. He is the sole owner of SuperMart, a discount department store chain with stores across the globe. He plays golf with Mac and Ben when he summers in Spencer and spends a lot of time checking out Betty’s legs.
Dedication
To Everyone Who Has a Past
Epigraph
The past cannot be changed. The future is yet in your power.
Mary Pickford, film actress
Prologue
Spencer, Maryland - Five Years Ago
The sun’s touch on Carlisle Green’s face felt like the jab of a sharp knife through her red eyes to the back of her head and down to the base of her skull.
Covering her eyes with an arm, she sat up on the chaise at the end of the boat dock and cursed the sun chastising her as it rose up from behind the ridge on the other side of Deep Creek Lake. Growling at anything and everything, she grabbed her head with both hands.
Another day, another hangover.
She turned around on the deck chair to place her bare feet on the dock.
Voices from the next dock over caught her attention. Twenty yards down the Deep Creek Lake shoreline, she saw two teenage boys staring at her with wide eyes.
“What are you looking at?”
They almost knocked each other into the water to run up the dock and disappear behind the privacy fence next door.
Carlisle didn’t get the answer to her question until she pulled herself upright to realize that she was naked. Her clothes were strewn around the dock. It took a minimal amount of rationalization to turn her shame to amusement.
Like they’ve never seen a naked woman before? What are they? Puritans?
An empty tequila bottle lay on its side next to the chaise. A foot away rested an empty wine bottle. Shiraz. Carlisle recognized the turquoise blue dress and matching sandals neatly folded and placed on the deck chair.
Ashton.
A vague memory came to her mind—a late night swim off the dock with her best friend.
“Ashton!” Carlisle called out while picking up her own panties and stepping into them.
“Ms. Green!” a shrill voice yelled from the next dock.
Bracing for a fight, Carlisle turned around to face Gloria Lander, the mother of the two boys. Carlisle made no attempt to cover her naked breasts. “What do you want, bitch?”
“It’s bad enough my having to keep my sons inside at night because I don’t know what you and your idiot friends are doing out here, but last night was the last straw!”
“Last—”
“I just about called the police!” Her voice went up an octave higher. “It was only because Parker, bless his heart, insisted that we be good neighbors—even if you don’t know the meaning of the word—that we didn’t.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Your cat fight after midnight!” Gloria’s hands went to her hips. ”Don’t you remember, lush?”
“Now look here, bitch!”
“When Parker came over to break it up before someone got hurt, you attacked him! I came this close—” she held up her fingers to show her a tiny amount “to calling the police to have you locked up for assault, but Parker wouldn’t let—”
“Gloria, that’s enough!” Carlisle heard Parker Lander scream from behind the fence. “Let it go!”
“I’m not—” Gloria turned her attention to her husband.
“Stop screaming like a banshee and get inside!”
Gloria’s face screwed up. She pointed a finger at Carlisle. “If I hear about you walking around out here without your clothes again, I’m calling the police! I don’t care if you are young kids. You’re over eighteen and that’s old enough to know how to be civilized!” With that, she stormed back inside.
“Bitch!” Carlisle replied.
At least I got the last word in.
In rebellion, Carlisle didn’t bother picking up her clothes. Leaving them and the empty bottles on the deck until she cooled off enough to clean up, she staggered up the dock and into the luxurious round home that had been passed down from generation to generation for over fifty years.
That’ll teach them.
“Ashton!” She assumed her childhood friend had come inside during the night to sleep in the guest room because she was too drunk to navigate the path through the woods to the rustic home that she had inherited from her grandfather.
The guest room was empty.
Guess she went home.
Carlisle picked up her cell phone from the coffee table and hit the speed dial number for Ashton Piedmont.
Seconds later, Carlisle heard the cell phone ringing from outside. Pulling herself up off the sofa, she went to the window to place the ring of the phone. It was coming from the chaise where Ashton had placed her clothes.
Funny. Ashton is never without her cell phone. Guess she was so plastered that she forgot to take it home with her. She’ll get it later when she comes to and remembers where she had left it.
Tossing the cell phone back onto the table, Carlisle dropped back onto the sofa and closed her eyes. Her head was pounding.
Cat fight? Attacked Parker Lander?
Carlisle checked her hands. They were bruised and dirty with splinters embedded in her fingertips. Clutching her knees, she found them bruised and bloody.
Oh, man! Why would I attack Parker? What was I fighting with Ashton about?
Having known the big—and dorky—man for years, Carlisle could not imagine him striking her back if she had attacked him.
If he had a backbone, he would have killed that witch of a wife years ago and buried her in their back yard. I know I would have. Anyone who knew her could claim temporary insanity and a jury would believe them.
Carlisle pushed through the cobwebs of her mind to search the foggy events of the night before. All that she could dredge up were flashes of faces and words.
“You’re going down, hell bitch!”
Who said that? Did Ashton say that to me? Why? Or did I say that to her? What did she do to get me mad?
Slowly, Carlisle sat up. She remembered a scream. A loud blood-curdling scream. Hearing it again from deep in her memory, Carlisle tried in vain to stand, but her legs buckled under her. She dropped to her knees, sending a shock wave from the bruises up to her aching head.
“Ash … Ashton!” Raising from the floor, Carlisle staggered out the back door and down the path along the lake to the Piedmont home. In her haste, she didn’t bother clothing herself. She grabbed the doorknob to find it locked. Without regard for tidiness, she overturned a potted plant to get the house key, unlocked the door, and rushed inside—triggering the home security system.
The vacant mansion was quiet. The silence echoed in Carlisle’s foggy head. The vastness of the estate made the silence even more frightening.
There was no one around, but Carlisle heard the answer murmured inside her head. Even if she did not remember what had happened, in the dark shadows of her mind, she knew. She felt her friend’s fate in the pit of her stomach.
Ashton Piedmont was dead.
