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Death at the Lake




  DEATH

  AT THE LAKE

  Book 2

  The Death Card Series

  By

  J.S. Peck

  BEJEWELED PUBLISHING

  LAS VEGAS, NEVADA

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, public or private institutions, corporations, towns, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems with- out permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages (up to 500 words) in a review. This book may not be resold or uploaded for distribution to others.

  Bejeweled Publishing

  6480 Annie Oakley Drive, Suite 513

  Las Vegas, Nevada 89120

  ISBN: 978-0-9824607-1-9

  First Edition: September 2018

  Copyright @ 2018 Joan S. Peck

  All rights reserved

  COVER ART DESIGN: Kelly A. Martin

  INTERNAL DESIGN: Jake Naylor

  DEDICATION

  I dedicate the entire Death Card series to my talent- ed sister, Judith Keim, who has taken time away from her successful authoring to help and support me.

  “You have been the wind beneath my wings by believing in me and my talent for writing mysteries. When I’ve been in doubt, all I’ve had to do was pick up the phone, and you’d patiently share pieces of advice and encouragement. I honor and love you as my twin sister—I’m forever grateful.”

  CHARACTERS

  B.B. Signature on love note to Melissa

  Brian Boyce Investigator partner with Rosie/newsman

  Bertha - “Mama” Manager at Purple Passion Lounge

  Cindy - “Sweet Thing” Investigative partner with Brian and Mike

  David Masterly Manager of girls at Purple Passion Lounge

  Gram Rosie’s grandmother in spirit

  Jacklyn Head of Agency for Human Trafficking

  Jeff MURDERED Rosie’s fiancé

  Johnny Cardoza Manager with Tony at Purple Passion Lounge

  Karen Sister-friend

  Lorenzo Mastrionni Tony’s go-fer person

  Louie Fashion Designer – friend of Romano

  Maria Safe-house mother

  Melissa Johnson MURDERED Dancer - Rosie’s client

  Mimi Daughter of one of the owners of lounge

  Mike Williams Investigator partner/Rosie’s fake boyfriend

  Mrs. Givens Mother of Melissa Johnson

  Mrs. Wellborn Sally’s neighbor

  Nancy Sister-friend

  Randy Romano’s life partner

  Richard Hairdresser suggested by Louie

  Richard Sophia’s partner/owner PUP & lounge

  Romano Chef at Purple Passion Lounge

  Ron and Irene Rosie’s neighbors

  Rosalie Bennett Tarot card reader – main character of series

  Sally MURDERED Dancer - Worked at lounge

  Sam MURDERED Worked at PUP

  Steve Employee of Brian and Mike

  Susannah Sister-friend

  Sweet Pea Rosie’s dog given to her by her sister-friends

  Sylvia Bookkeeper at Purple Passion Lounge

  Thomas Employee of Brian and Mike

  Tony Angelo Manager/representative owner of lounge

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 1

  As soon as I pushed through the door of my townhouse, I raced into the living room and threw myself down on the couch, Sweet Pea at my heels. I grabbed a pillow and screamed into it. I cried, laughed hysterically, and cried again, hard enough to cause hiccups. I was a total hot mess, exhilarated and exhausted. I was emotionally done.

  I had to give credit to Sweet Pea, my darling silky dog, who sat at my feet. She never moved as she watched my antics. I think she knew I was in trouble - big trouble. I’d worked undercover at the Purple Passion Lounge to help solve the murders of one of my clients, whose tarot cards I’d read, and another dancer who performed there. Instead of nailing the murderers, I had participated in a drug bust and rescued four little girls the managers of the lounge had brought in to be sold in a human trafficking scheme.

  Even now, all I had to do is close my eyes to see the four little girls staring back at me as they had when I’d unlocked one of the office doors and found them hiding inside. What was going to happen to them? What would happen to me for freeing them, which my old enemy the chief of police called kidnapping them? What about those people who’d love to get their hands on me for interfering with their plan? What was going to happen with the murders of my client and the other dancer yet to be solved?

  Everything would have to wait; I couldn’t worry about any of it now. I needed to get to bed and begin to recuperate. It was my turn to host my three best friends in Las Vegas in less than 24 hours, and nothing was going to keep me from that. Most important, for our safety, I couldn’t let them know how much I was involved with all that was going on here with those murders. This was going to be hard to do because we usually have no secrets between us.

  The next morning, I awoke feeling slightly better. As I lay in bed, I began to make a mental list of what I’d need to do before my friends got here, but before I could begin my plan, the doorbell rang, and Sweet Pea raced down the stairs to greet whoever was at the door. As I followed her, she barked with excitement and anticipation and wagged her tail.

  When I opened the door, there was Brian, my investigative partner, who I was still working with to solve the murders, standing there with a worried look on his face. He looked so handsome, and I was attracted to him even though we seemed to be opposites. But the truth was neither one us wanted to be tied down at this point in our lives. We treasured the freedom to do what we wanted. That’s the push-me-pull-you sort of relationship we had.

  “Hi, there, Cowboy, what’s up?”

  Coming straight to the point, he asked, “Your friends are coming in today, right?”

  “Not until tonight.”

  “Okay, that still works.” He looked intently at me, a bit unsure of himself before he continued, “I’
ve made arrangements for you and your friends, even Sweet Pea, to share a two-bedroom suite for the next three days at Loews out at Lake Las Vegas.”

  “Whoa, hold on.” I shook my head in protest.

  He immediately held up his hand and said, “It’s on me. I’ve already paid for it all; it’ll cost you nothing—meals and libation are included. Your being there will keep you safe and away from here until things settle down.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks. We’re staying right here in my house. Besides, why would you do that?”

  “We still have things to clean up, and I don’t want you involved. The people we think are entangled in all the murders know where you live, remember?”

  “Do you mean you have a lead on who killed Melissa and Sally?” I asked, my curiosity mounting. I didn’t want to be left out of discovering and prosecuting the people responsible for my client’s and the dancer’s deaths. From the first, I vowed to do that, and I still wanted to be a part of it.

  “We’re working on it, but there’s no room for you to be involved,” he repeated emphatically before throwing in the last incentive, “Besides, the last thing you want to do is get your girlfriends hurt, right?”

  He had me there. I hated to give in, but I could see his point. “If I agree, I don’t want you to pay for anything. I’ll take care of it myself.”

  “Too bad; it’s already done. You can pay for the other things you girls do, though.”

  “I’ve already purchased tickets to see a show at The Smith Center one of the nights …”

  “No problem,” he immediately cut in. “I’ll have a limo pick you up. Just let me know which day and time.”

  “Just how are you managing to do all this, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “Well, I do mind,” he said firmly, dismissing any chance of a response. “Just promise me that you’ll leave first thing in the morning, Rosie. Enjoy it out there.”

  As I hesitated, he added, “You deserve a break from all this. Get a massage or a—what do you girls call it—a ‘mani-pedi’—or something? Just stay there and have fun.”

  I stood in front of him, weighing the pros and cons. He interrupted my train of thought by adding, “I’ll have security there for you too. But if anything comes up or you need me, call me right away. Just go and enjoy,” he insisted.

  Hmmm. Although I wasn’t feeling entirely comfortable about his proposition, maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. I was more than a little worried I might have more unwelcome visitors here at the house while the girls were with me. I certainly didn’t want them to become involved or get hurt.

  “Well? Promise me?” He paused. “Just tell them you won a prize or something,” he coached.

  “Okay, deal,” I said reluctantly as we shook hands. Then he pulled me forward, looked deep into my eyes, and gave me a kiss on the forehead. What’s up with that? I wondered, especially after he’d given me a passionate kiss when he’d helped to save me and the little girls.

  He bent down to pat Sweet Pea before he turned to leave. “I’ve paid the guard at the gate to keep a careful watch over your house tonight and for the next few days. Call me if anything more happens—I mean it.”

  I stood there but didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing as he walked out the door. I wasn’t used to all this concern or relying on someone else. Sometimes it made me feel as if I were floating along, doing what anyone wanted me to do, but I didn’t have a choice. Maybe this time I didn’t.

  I looked at the clock and realized I now would have to redo my shopping list to buy treats—sunscreen, beach towels, and more—to take to Lake Las Vegas. I would also have to pack for Sweet Pea, who’d be overjoyed and excited about joining us. She loved staying at hotels and acting as the official greeter whether or not anyone wanted her to be. Luckily, she was cute enough to get away with it.

  The day sped by, and before I knew it, it was time to pick up my “sister-friends” at the airport. They had managed their flight times so they landed just about 20 minutes apart, making it easy for everyone to gather there before we headed to my house together.

  My sister-friends (more like sisters than friends) and I always had fun together, doing whatever inspired us at the time. We never knew what was going to happen, which made it even more crazy fun. I was lucky enough to attend Cornell College, where I met and befriended these three fabulous women—two from Boston, Massachusetts, and one from Boise, Idaho. They are the ones who’d alleviated the pain of my having been belittled and bullied for my and my grandmother’s psychic abilities when I was younger.

  I loved my girlfriends, for they filled my life in ways so wonderful it was hard to describe. I couldn’t wait to see them.

  First to arrive was Nancy from Boise. At first, she was hard to find in the crowd because she is petite, only 5 feet tall. It was her wild, blond, curly hair I saw between taller people that made me able to grab her from the line and hug her. My 5’10” dwarfed her, but her smile was huge and electrifying, making me so grateful she was my friend. Nancy was the “tomboy” who loved all sports and animals. She even owned four nonallergenic dogs of her own. At college, she took courses to become a veterinarian, but her allergies to animals kept her from actually working with them on a daily basis. Instead, she worked from home for the offices of an organization that raises funds to protect endangered animals around the globe. She loved her job and traveled around the world to see some of these animals herself—always taking her allergy medicine along.

  We chatted away while we waited for Karen and Susannah to arrive. Nancy showed me pictures of her newest puppy and videos of all four of her dogs playing together. They were hysterical.

  Then we heard a tremendous shout—“Helloooo.”—so we knew Karen had arrived. She was the unrestrained “kid” who found fun in almost everything she did. She taught first grade—no surprise—and had won several awards for her way with children, and her ability to help international students settle into America and the English language. She danced her way toward us, waving her arms in the air above her head. “I’m so glad to be here, ladies. We’re going to have so much fun together.”

  We exchanged hugs and kisses, and then Susannah showed up, looking as trim and professional as could be. She was the “perfectionist” and always wanted everything to be in order. Susannah had a rough childhood living in the ghetto, and had a bit of a control issue, but she knew it about herself and was able to laugh at her ways. A corporate lawyer in Boston’s financial district, she dressed and looked the part in all the best ways. Other people often found Susannah intimidating, but we three didn’t. Susannah could be a hoot, for she had a very dry sense of humor. We loved to be in her company.

  After collecting our things, we drove to my house. “So, what’s happening, Rosie? Anything exciting?” asked Nancy as we entered the house.

  I remained silent, since Sweet Pea was rushing forward, barking her pleasure at seeing the girls. She was convinced, I think, they’d come just for her. She was their gift to me after my fiancé, Jeff, died, and everyone loved her and treated her like one of the girls. Because Sweet Pea is nonallergenic, Nancy immediately swooped her up in her arms and received many kisses for doing so. The other girls pampered her as well. She looked up at me with a huge smile. It had taken me time when I first had her to realize that yes, indeed, dogs really can smile.

  “Hold on, girls. Don’t unpack your bags yet …”

  “Woo-hoo.” Karen cried out. “A surprise. I knew you were up to something special when we talked the other night—I could hear it in your voice.”

  “Well, I do have a surprise for us all. We were given a two-bedroom suite at Loews for the next three days at Lake Las Vegas. We head out tomorrow. Even Sweet Pea is invited,” I added.

  “Woo-hoo,” hollered Nancy. “I love that place. Isn’t that the same one we drove out to see and where we had cocktails the last time w
e were here?

  “It sure is,” answered Karen. “I wouldn’t forget a place like that.”

  “Ladies, let’s go upstairs,” I said. “Your presents for this trip are in the first guest room.”

  “Wow, more surprises?” asked Karen.

  “Are you sure you want to spend your money like this?” whispered Susannah in an aside to me. She was my lawyer and handled most of my financial affairs and my trust fund. She asked me despite knowing I have more than enough money to do that and anything else I wanted, thanks to my parents and Grandmother’s keen investment sense.

  “Our time at Lake Las Vegas is a thank-you for doing a favor for a special client,” I informed them. “Room and board are on the house; all else is on us. Not bad, huh?” I hated not telling the whole truth, much less calling Brian a client.

  “I’ll say. I sure would love to meet this client of yours,” enthused Karen.

  “You never know …” I responded in a low voice.

  Excited as little girls, we all scurried up the stairs and piled into the first guest room. Four bundles, alike except for the color of the beach towels, were on the bed. “Just pick one, and I’ll take what’s left,” I directed.

  Each of the girls grabbed a pack, and we ended up laughing because we all were comparing what we had with what the others had – like old times at college.

  “Let’s head downstairs for a nightcap before we go to bed,” I suggested. “How does Amaretto on the rocks sound?”

  Karen said, “Now we’re talking.” She wasn’t a real drinker but loved to indulge with the rest of us.

  Nancy and Susannah chimed in together, “Count me in.”

  We settled in for just a short session of small talk before heading back upstairs to bed. Tomorrow at Lake Las Vegas would be the real start of our sister-friends weekend, and we couldn’t wait for it to begin.