Christa Reads and Writes: STACIE MARONI MYSTERIES

INTRODUCING STACIE MARONI

Prestige, Privilege & Murder

Thirty-something Stacie Maroni Noth should have been on top of the world. She married Ted Noth, a prominent lawyer and son of an even more prominent lawyer. Despite the high society and country club opportunities, Stacie went against the Noth family culture and maintained her independence - she had a good job as HR specialist at a large insurance company.

Her life changes drastically when Stacie catches Ted in the "act" and files for divorce. The final papers are in the works with the custody battle over Jasper, their Maltese, finally resolved and Ted is murdered. Stacie is the obvious suspect, at least from the perspective of the Noth family. Not by design, Stacie ends up helping with the investigation as it begins to look like she may be the next victim.

Prestige, Privilege & Murder is available through AMAZON and FREE with Kindle Unlimited

Here is an excerpt:

It had been a while since I’d gone to a bar by myself and I was nervous. It was a Friday night and the DJ joked about song titles and singles. Not too crowded, a few couples danced to the tune he played. Other couples and groups sat in booths or tables. The bar was long and I’d grabbed the last seat at the bar, a great vantage point for checking out the crowd.

Perched on a stool by the bar, I was on my second glass of wine when I spotted him. A dark-haired Adonis in snug jeans and a tapered polo shirt, he scanned the room. The wine did its job and I felt good. I caught his eye. My soon-to-be ex wasn’t the only one who could fool around. I winked and he smiled – his smile about knocked me over. My heart raced as he sauntered in my direction.

“Hi. Care to dance?” He extended his hand and I nodded. The DJ played a slow song and he was a strong lead. I couldn’t help but notice the woodsy scent of his aftershave as he held me in his arms and we danced. When the song was over, he walked me back to my spot at the bar.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Uh, sure. Viognier, please.”

I almost admitted that two was my limit but decided I could sip this one. Viognier isn’t the most popular of wines. That he didn’t question my choice surprised me. Ted certainly did. Often.

He signaled the bartender and ordered the wine along with a scotch and water for himself. “I’m Rick. Rick Murdock.”

I hesitated and answered with a smile, “You can call me Barbie.” If this was my once in my lifetime one-night-stand, I didn’t want to use my real name.

His eyes narrowed for a split-second before he nodded. The bartender delivered our drinks and distracted him from the name issue.

“Thanks!” I lifted my glass and he tapped it with his.

“Cheers! So, Barbie… what do you think of the music the DJ is serving us?”

I had to give him credit. It was better than the “Come here often?” I expected. Then again, Creekview Lounge catered to a different crowd than Rockies. We exchanged opinions on music and danced to a few more songs.

Along the way, I finished the third glass of wine, gained a better appreciation of the muscles in his shoulders and noticed his hazel eyes. As I tried not to stumble, he caught me.

“You all right?”

I licked my lip, flicked my hair over my shoulder, and tried for a flirty look. “I think some fresh air would help.”

His multi-watt smile came back at me and we walked outside. In the parking lot, we commented on how good the crisp cool air felt. He leaned toward me and I toward him. The wine had diminished my inhibitions and I responded when he kissed me. Then his hand was on my back and I burst into tears.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just… I can’t do this. I’m not as slimy as Ted. I’m so sorry.”

He dropped his hands and put them up in front of his body as he stepped back. The smile was long gone. “No problem. No problem.”

I turned and ran to my car, still crying. After a few minutes and a little calmer, I drove to my empty townhouse. Thankfully, I didn’t get stopped by a police car or have an accident.

It wasn’t that late – a little after midnight. That’s what I told myself as I called my best friend Jillian. I didn’t get any farther than “I hope it’s not too late” and I burst into tears.

“Stacie, what’s wrong?”

I was crying too hard to talk. I squeaked out, “I went to the Creekview Lounge. I thought I could be like Ted. That’s not me. I tried and I can’t do this this dating thing again.”

“Stacie, you are only 34 years old. You have a great job at Foster’s Insurance Group. You’re educated and smart. Maybe you could go back to school and get that graduate degree in counseling you wanted before Ted.”

“I don’t know about graduate school. What about all the weight I’ve gained? I’m not a size 6 anymore. Each day I find another gray hair. The thoughts of going out and trying to meet somebody is scary and tonight proved it.”

“You have beautiful dark brown hair and blue eyes, and so what if you’re a size 10 now. There’s a man out there – a better man than Ted. Did you see any prospects at Creekview?”

“Yeah, there was one guy. His name was Rick. He was a great dancer and when he smiled – wow!”

“So what happened?”

“Well, I said I needed a breath of air and then he kissed me. I just lost it. I mean I’m not even divorced yet. I burst into tears and sat in my car until I could drive. Then I came home and called you because you’re my friend.” I burst into tears again.

“Stacie, you know if this guy was even halfway good-looking and interested, there’s hope. Was he attractive?”

“Oh, he was easy on the eyes for sure. Tall, dark, and handsome. Muscular. And that’s not the alcohol talking. I only had a couple glasses of wine.”

“Was he drunk?”

“No, he didn’t seem drunk at all. He seemed like a nice guy and a good dancer. He wasn’t pushy at all and didn’t get mad when I freaked. Maybe because I met Ted there … that was 12 years ago. We were supposed to have a happily ever after.”

“Listen, Ted’s scum. You have a lot of years left for happiness. Look at me. I didn’t meet Wade until I was 30. My thirtieth birthday bash with you and Trina. Remember what fun we had that night?”

We talked more about the fun times. Jillian and I shared some laughs and by the time I hung up I felt much better. I surveyed my townhouse. It had been six months since I bought it and moved in, but it didn’t quite feel like home. The only pictures were of my parents and brother, and then a couple of friends. Ted insisted on keeping our dog, Jasper, and I missed him. Maybe I’d get a dog or a cat to keep me company.

The next week, my breakfast on the table, the doorbell rang. When I opened the door, the sight confused me.

“Ma’am. Mrs. Noth?”

“How did you find me?” I asked Rick Murdock as he stood on my front step. Even two weeks later, I hadn’t forgotten how good he looked or how humiliated I felt about that night.

“Ma’am. Your address was on the divorce papers. Can we come in please?”

My brain kicked in and I realized Rick wasn’t talking – it was the other man on the step. The balding stocky one in uniform with a scowl on his face, a smoker from the odor wafting off of him. And then I realized Rick was in uniform, too. He still looked good and gave off the woodsy scent.

“What’s going on?” My gaze went from one man to the other.

“Mrs. Noth, if you don’t want us to come in, we can go down to the station. We have some questions we need to ask you.”

I stepped aside so they could come inside. “I don’t understand. What kind of questions?”

My thoughts were running in circles. Could I have broken a law at the Creekview Lounge that night and not have remembered? Did Rick think I was soliciting? Did they catch me on camera drinking and driving?

“May we sit down? I’m Officer Flatt and this is Officer Murdock.”

“Sure… What’s going on?”

“Mrs. Noth when was the last time you talked to or saw your husband?”

“As I’m sure he told you, it was yesterday at a meeting with our lawyers. Is he still complaining I refused the ‘irreconcilable differences’ lies?” My anger at Ted surfaced once again.

“What time was that ma’am?”

“The meeting was at 3:30. I had to leave work early to make it there on time. He finally grabbed the papers and left, must have been after 4. I was home before the 5 o’clock news. I don’t understand. Is he accusing me of something? Are you here to serve me a gag order?” I huffed, my anger rising.

I glanced from one officer to the other. Rick avoided my gaze and shuffled his feet.

“No ma’am. Mr. Noth isn’t accusing you of anything. He’s dead and…”

I didn’t hear the rest of his sentence. “What? No!” And then I passed out.

I groaned and opened my eyes. Rick stood there with a glass of water. “Here, drink this.”

I sat up and looked to Officer Flatt. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually faint. Did you say Ted was dead? That can’t be. I just talked to him yesterday.”

“That is what I said. He was murdered sometime last night.”

“Murdered?”

“Ma’am. After you left your husband yesterday, what did you do?”

“I came home.”

“Can anyone vouch for that? Anyone here with you?”

“Huh? What? No one was here with me. It was just me and a half gallon of Rocky Road ice cream.” Then it dawned on me. This man suspected I’d killed Ted!

“Oh, my gosh. You think I killed him? I can’t even kill spiders.”

Officer Flatt shook his head a bit before he answered. “Calm down. We have to ask these questions.”

“I’ll get you more water.” Rick picked up my glass and disappeared into my kitchen. He came back with the water and nodded to Officer Flatt. “One empty Rocky Road carton in the trash.”

I glared at him. How dare he check my trash? “Just so you know, I didn’t eat it all at once.”

His mouth twitched, but he didn’t say a word.

“Just a few more questions. About your divorce…”

“Excuse me, but do I need to call my lawyer? I don’t think I should talk to you until I call my lawyer. Of course, he’s a divorce attorney, but he must know something about other kinds of law, right?”

Rick was back to staring at the ceiling and Officer Flatt studied the floor. Standing up, Officer Flatt put his little book and pen in his pocket. “We’ll be in touch or Detective O’Hare will be if there are any other questions. Here’s my card.”

He started to leave, Rick following his lead.

“Wait. Has anyone else been notified? Do I need to call his family? What should I tell them? Where is he? Who will take care of the funeral?”

Officer Flatt blinked before he answered. “You’ll have to talk with Detective O’Hare at the Beckman Springs Police Department.” He shook his head as he turned and left. Rick hesitated and then was gone.

My eggs were cold, but it didn’t matter. I’d lost my appetite.

Praise for Prestige, Privilege & Murder

“I really enjoyed the characters in this story. It has twists and turns and an ending that was a surprise.” Reader Review

“The mystery was enjoyable. The main character, Stacie, was very believable and her friends and potential love interest were shaping up to be interesting as well.” Reader Review

Foundations, Funny Business & Murder
Stacie Maroni Mysteries #2

The best of intentions shouldn't include murder.

An HR specialist and trauma counselor, Stacie is on the board of a fledgling non-profit foundation set up to benefit victims of domestic violence.

After a slashed tire, attempted break in, and a murder, Stacie isn’t buying coincidental bad karma. Someone wants her off the board - at any cost.

Her fancy surveillance equipment, impressive alarm system, and a ferocious Maltese dog offer only so much protection. Enter Kevin McNair, a smooth talker with piercing blue eyes. Can she trust him with her heart or her life?

Foundations, Funny Business & Murder is available through AMAZON and FREE with Kindle Unlimited

Here is an excerpt:

For me, the whole point of yoga was to clear my head. As I exited the Yoga Pod, I looked up at the sky and exhaled another cleansing breath. I was lost in the moment a man barreled into me. The next thing I knew I was on my butt.

“What?” I looked up and saw a tall man, with an athletic build, black hair, and piercing blue eyes.

“I’m sorry. So sorry.” He extended his hands and easily pulled me up, gym bag and all. “Are you alright?”

I nodded.

“I don’t usually tackle beautiful women.” He scanned the street, and with a cryptic “Another time, another place,” he ran off.

As if I would know what he was running from or to, I looked up and down the street. Nothing jumped out at me. My cell phone buzzed and I groaned.

“Good morning, Senator.”

“Good morning, Stacie. We have a situation here, and I’ve called a meeting of the Foundation for this evening, six sharp.”

So much for my fleeting experience of a clear head. “What kind of situation?”

“I don’t want to discuss it on the phone or with each member of the Board individually. Be here at 6 o’clock and you’ll find out with the others.”

He disconnected. Nothing I could do about it. I tried for another cleansing breath.

The Theodore Noth Foundation was funded by my deceased husband’s life insurance policy. The half-million dollars created the foundation to prevent and address domestic violence, one of Ted’s and my passions. Senator William Langford was designated to head up the foundation. He’d pioneered a bill on domestic violence and worked with the NFL and other groups to address the rising concerns.

I walked to my car, parked a block away from the Yoga Pod, and groaned. All the stretches and cleansing breaths weren’t going to fix the flat tire. Opting for the positive spin, that made for three downers, so I figured I’d be good for a while.

I called the auto club and walked over to the Starbucks for a Skinny Mocha while I waited. A quick glance at my watch and I placed a call to the office to let Rosie know I had car trouble and would likely be late to work.

Drinking my coffee, I thought about the Senator’s call. The board consisted of a myriad of people, including some with deep pockets who, like Ted, were entrepreneurial and could embrace the cause because it cut close to home. Someone I’d yet to meet represented the sports industry and Langford’s connections to the NFL. At the other extreme, the grass roots contingent included the first responders for medical services and police, victims and survivors of domestic violence, and others who worked with the victims, including me.

So far all we’d accomplished was reviewing Ted’s requests and instructions, including the stakeholders he wanted represented on the board. Langford or his staff drafted a constitution and bylaws for the Foundation. Legal counsel had been retained and an administrative assistant was hired to serve as a combined secretary and treasurer. I’d yet to see a final list of the board members. The last communication surrounded a draft announcement for potential grants directed at service and education. How could there be an “emergency” at this point?

My reverie was cut short when the tow truck from the auto club arrived. I joined the mechanic as he examined the tire and shook his head.

“You the owner?”

I nodded and handed him my auto club card.

“You call the police yet?”

“Excuse me. Why would I call the police for a flat tire? I probably drove over a nail or something.”

“No, ma’am. This tire has been slashed. You need to make that call. And pop the trunk so I can get out your spare. You have one, right?”

“Slashed?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He glanced at the phone in my hand and must have noticed I was in “contacts” as he offered, “Police is 9-1-1. Then you can call whoever else.”

I’d actually considered calling a specific policeman. I decided the mechanic’s idea was better though and placed the call. With my luck, Rick Murdock would be the responding officer. We’d dated a few times and I liked Rick. Under different circumstances, it might have worked out. I just wasn’t ready for serious and he was. I hadn’t heard from him since I said the dreaded “Let’s be friends.”

The mechanic, “Gordon” from the name on his shirt, pointed to the trunk. I opened it for him and groaned. Upon seeing the contents, he rolled his eyes. He was nice enough to help me move everything to the back seat. We’d found the jack and spare when the cruiser pulled up. I released the breath I was holding when Officer Marina Napoli got out, Officer Tim Reardon behind her.

“Hi, Stacie. What’s the problem?”

“I came back to my car and had a flat. Gordon here says the tire’s been slashed.”

“Okay. Reardon, can you check and see if that’s been a problem around here lately?” She turned back to me as Reardon walked to the front of my car. Pointing to my coffee cup, Marina asked, “Did you happen to see anyone from the Starbucks?”

I shook my head. “Starbucks came after I called the auto club. I was at the Yoga Pod around the corner.”

Reardon joined us and cleared his throat. “No other reports. The sergeant said it was still early. He’ll keep us posted if any more reports come in.”

With Gordon’s help, Reardon took a picture of the slash for the report, while Marina took down the information. Both Gordon and I signed the report, then Gordon got the tire changed.

“Hold on to that tire if you can, just in case something comes up. We’ll probably never find out who did this. No cameras and no one called it in if they witnessed it.”

Marina shrugged and turned to leave. She turned around and added, “Remember Officer Flatt? He’s retiring the end of the month. The Brick on Friday if you and your friends are interested.”

“Thanks, Marina. Maybe I’ll see you there.”

Gordon stared for a minute, his mouth open. Recovering, he handed me his clipboard to sign. I hoped that was the last of my excitement for the day. If only.

Praise for Foundations, Funny Business & Murder

“Another great story in Stacie's life. … This is an awesome series. You'll enjoy all the twists that keep you turning the pages.” Reader Review

“This series … is just good entertainment with likeable characters, interesting plots, and good writing.” Reader Review

Deception, Denial & Murder

Stacie Maroni Mysteries #3

A domineering co-worker, a new flirtatious neighbor, and a dead body with way too many questions.

As HR Specialist and trauma counselor, Stacie Maroni is used to dealing with difficult situations. When her night out is derailed by the discovery of a body, she’s glad she’s not involved. That is, until the murder affects her close friends and makes for awkward situations with the men in her life, her father included. With her friends potential suspects, Stacie works with the police, only the suspect list is slim and she’s grabbing at straws.

Deception, Denial & Murder is available through AMAZON and FREE with Kindle Unlimited

Here is an excerpt:

My morning run was invigorating. The sun was shining and the temperature crisp, but not frigid. A great day to get started on those New Year’s resolutions for sure. A quick shower, Jasper, my Maltese, taken care of, and I parked my car in my usual spot at Foster’s Insurance Group.

As the one stable feature of my life for the past year, it was a good thing I liked my job. HR specialist and crisis counselor for the company, my day was predictable enough with the occasional crisis to keep me charged.

Opening the doors leading to my office area, I greeted my assistant in reception. “Hi, Rosie.”

She jumped. “Good morning, Stacie. It doesn’t look like a busy day today. Did you have a good weekend?”

I nodded and didn’t elaborate. Rosie was in her fifties and had a penchant for gossip. Still, she did her job to perfection and kept me organized.

Not stopping to chat, I went down the hall to my office and settled in to work. I smiled at the email from Kevin McNair, the man in my life. A fellow supporter of victims of domestic violence, Kevin earned my trust as we faced down a murderer who was targeting members of the board of the newly established Theodore Noth Foundation.

He made the career change from professional athlete to policeman at about the same time. This week, he was in Quantico at a training seminar and sent me GIFs of flowers and sunshine daily. I could get used to this, though having him in town would be preferable.

A knock on my door broke my concentration. True to form, Jillian didn’t wait for the “Come in.” She burst in and slammed the door so hard I wasn’t sure the hinges would hold. From the set of her mouth to her wide eyes, her mood matched her jet black hair. Jillian was my best friend and I’d never seen her this riled.

“What’s wrong? Sit down, chill.”

“It’s … it’s that woman they transferred from Georgia – Gertrude Butts. Have you interacted with her at all?”

I shook my head. “Only to collect the paperwork. I haven’t seen her since she started. She’s in Special Projects with you, right?”

Jillian slumped over, her head in her hands.

“She is. The woman is a witch. A bully. She wants to add more structure, picks on the women – but is oh so nice to Tony and Jim. Everything I’ve done? She hates. She’s obsessed with being on time and apologetic when she’s late, which she is often. She gets upset if anyone is even a minute late or takes too long in the restroom.”

“Calm down. You have a cohesive unit. You have worked together for a long time. You’re a good lead.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. She acts like she knows everything and doesn’t see why the staff should be able to talk to each other or socialize. The tension is building. I’m afraid it will not be pretty. Besides, she doesn’t have a clue what she’s doing and keeps missing the details on the projects.”

“The holidays are always stressful and she’s only just gotten here. Give it a few more weeks. Try talking to her. Make her feel like her opinion matters.”

“I know, I know. I’m just afraid she’ll run off my best staff. She keeps pushing my buttons and everyone else’s. She sent me an email demanding I comply with her requests within 24 hours. She’s not my boss. I don’t understand why Reinhardt thought I needed help. We each have a job and I’m afraid she’s wreaking havoc on me and my unit.”

She exhaled and stood up. “I just needed to vent. We’ll work it out. See you at lunch.”

I stared at the closed door after Jillian left. I was confident she could handle the woman. Only I didn’t enjoy seeing her so upset. I sat back and thought about my job.

Most of the time, Foster’s Insurance Group was a well-oiled machine. As the lead HR specialist, I had first-hand knowledge of the turnover and complaints. I’d already had a complaint from one of the people in Jillian’s unit about Gertrude.

A high rate of turnover didn’t happen often. If it did or one unit suddenly wasn’t as productive or had high turnover, I’d have to report to Reinhardt. Lynisha Cook, the other HR specialist, and I “jokingly” referred to her as the “Wicked Witch of the West.”

I shuddered and turned my attention back to my email and the reports I needed to get done. I could only hope this would pass. Engrossed in number crunching, I jumped when my cell rang, the ring tone alerting me it was my dad. I smiled and answered.

“Hi, Dad. How’s it going?”

“Hi, Stacie. Everything’s good here. Working on the final touches for the wedding. How are things with you?”

“Good here, too.” I cringed, anticipating what he would say.

“Deanna and I were wondering when you will arrive and if you’d gotten around to inviting Kevin yet? Deanna is looking forward to meeting him.”

“I have vacation time and requested the week off, hoping to get some skiing and relaxation in. My plan was to arrive midweek. When will Vince arrive?”

I hadn’t seen my brother in at least two years. He made the army his career and deployments kept him away. At least so he said.

“Stacie, you didn’t answer my question. Why haven’t you invited Kevin to the wedding yet?”

I took a deep breath. “You realize we haven’t spent a lot of time together, what with him at the police academy and now the special training at Quantico. He’s starting a new job and I’m not sure he can take time off.”

“You’ll invite him, won’t you?”

“Yes. I think so. I don’t know.”

“Stacie, you’re running – no, you’ve run out of time here. He may be insulted you waited so long and say no.” He groaned and I imagined he was shaking his head and scowling.

“As for your brother, Vince will be on leave for two weeks. He plans to stay at my place in New Jersey for a while to decompress. He’ll come up to Bricksville by Tuesday or Wednesday. Nate is driving up on Thursday. Talk to Kevin today and let me know so we can plan accordingly.”

“Okay. I will.”

We disconnected and I shuddered at what “plan accordingly” meant. It would be awful if they “found” me a date for the wedding. That would be so uncomfortable. I’d hash it out with my friends at lunch.

Praise for Deceptions, Denial & Murder

“The writing, plotting, and character development in this series keeps me coming back for more. I know I’m going to be entertained and feel good when I’m done.” Reader Review

"The characters are realistic.... and span the full range of likability from delightful to deplorable! The plto, clear and easy to follow, kept me guessing..." Reader Review

Connections, Conflict & Murder

A Stacie Maroni Mystery #4

A walk in the park, online connections, and dangerous discoveries.

When the cybersecurity expert who checked out Stacie’s computer turns up dead, Stacie and her good friend and IT whiz, Trina, find themselves entangled in the ensuing murder investigation. Who killed Sam and why? Was the motive personal or was Sam silenced because he discovered potentially illegal activity as part of a client’s routine security audit? With Stacie at her side, Trina reaches out to other tech people who knew Sam in an effort to connect the dots and, in the process, places both women in the sights of a killer.

Connections, Conflict & Murder is available through AMAZON and FREE with Kindle Unlimited

Read an excerpt:

Finding a parking space at Beckman Park was difficult with many people enjoying the pleasant spring weather. Jasper bounced around, excited and eager to get out of the car. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a dog park here.

There were a variety of paths and only some led to picnic areas or play areas for children. I locked up the car and hooked Jasper’s leash as I watched which paths the masses selected.

We came to the park often with Kevin and his dog, Shaq. And sometimes with my friend, Ronnie, and her little girl, Elle. Choosing to avoid the masses, I headed for the less trodden path used most often for longer walks rather than to find a picnic area.

The path was clear with only a few branches down after a recent storm. I tossed them into the woods as we walked. As dogs will do, Jasper had to stop every few yards and sniff and mark his territory. A squirrel scampered by and Jasper tried to take chase, surprising me as he pulled at the leash.

Overall, it was peaceful and nature at its best. Wild flowers added color and music piped into my ear buds. Walking and thinking go together in my mind. I had some decisions to make.

With money I’d inherited when my husband was killed, my longtime dream of getting a graduate degree and more training in trauma care was within my reach. Only I enjoyed my job as a human resource specialist at Foster’s Insurance group and it provided me with stability. More and more, I’d considered getting the additional training and not necessarily a degree.

A man and woman jogged past me with a “Great weather” and smile for Jasper. A few other runners passed us. We walked some more and met up with a woman with a Labrador. We each kept to our own side of the path.

“Have a good day.” I shouted as we passed them.

She answered with a smile and “You, too.”

A few minutes later, what sounded like a gun shot and people shrieking shattered the peacefulness. The path curved up ahead and I couldn’t see anything. I pulled Jasper to the side and dialed 9-1-1 as people ran by us, some screaming.

“Hi, this is Stacie Maroni. I’m at Beckman Park and there’s been a shooting. At least I heard a shot and people are running and screaming.”

“Is anyone injured?”

“I don’t know. Not that I can tell.”

“Stay back. Help is on the way.”

Jasper growled as people moved too fast, one of them colliding with me and knocking the phone out of my hand. I picked it up and the call had disconnected.

A few more stragglers went past with furtive glances behind them. Then, all was quiet. I took a few steps and Jasper pulled at the leash. We moved slowly, further down the path, almost to where it curved. Sirens sounded, getting louder.

I approached the curve and wished there was some way to tell the police my location in the park and update them. My phone pinged but the message made no sense to me. Some app asking to track my location. Another ping and a text message from Rick Murdock, a Beckman Springs police officer.

“Near the shooting? Allow location on the app and we can find you.”

I activated the app and continued to walk forward, following Jasper’s lead. I spotted someone on the ground and took another step. Then I heard someone coming and, picking up a hissing Jasper, ducked behind a tree, glad I was wearing dark, boring clothes.

Jasper shook and I heard a twig snap. Hidden, I whispered to Jasper to be quiet. More sirens and I heard another step, away from me this time. A minute or two later, I heard my name.

"Stacie! Stacie!"

I recognized Rick’s voice and stepped out cautiously. I moved to the far side of the path opposite the body. Jasper stopped shaking and wanted down.

He ran in circles and barked when he spotted Rick and Officer Lahomes coming toward us. They were partners. Officer Marina Napoli, Officer Reardon, and Bill came from the other direction. Marina and Reardon were partners. I wasn’t sure why Bill responded alone.

Turning to face Rick, I asked, “Did someone go past you just now?”

“A man ran by and yelled ‘Shooter. Shooter.’ Then he kept going.”

“I think he was coming in this direction until the second set of sirens. Jasper didn’t like him. And by now the shooter would be long gone.”

Bill nodded and took charge. To Rick and Lahomes he said, “Each of you write down what he looked like. He may be the shooter, doubling back to be sure this guy is dead.”

Turning to me, Bill asked, “Did you get close to the victim? Touch anything?”

I shook my head. “I called when I heard the shot. People were running past me and I waited to walk in this direction. I’d gotten this far, spotted the body ahead of me, and then heard someone coming. I ducked behind some trees and waited for you.”

Marina walked to the body, leaned over, and then came back to us. She shook her head. “He didn’t make it.”

Reardon put his hand to his ear. “Paramedics are here. I’ll walk out and bring them in.” Bill nodded and Reardon left.

“Lahomes, can you go back to the next intersection with the other paths and stop anyone coming this way? We need to get as many pictures as possible before we do anything else. Probably won’t be helpful, but eyes on the ground and the greenery for anything that doesn’t belong. Long shot, but maybe the killer left a calling card.”

Bill snorted and everyone grumbled. Lahomes nodded and walked back down the path.

“Stacie, I need you to tell me everything you can remember.”

“Afraid I can’t tell you much. Jasper and I were walking just like any other walk in the park. I knew this path wasn’t as popular as others. There’s no picnic areas or benches until you get to the main part up ahead. Some people passed us before the shot. Runners. Then the shot rang out and ten, maybe fifteen, people barreled down the path. One woman picked up her baby and left the stroller. Everyone kept looking behind them and stuck to the tree line in case they needed to hide.”

“Saw the stroller. No one looked out of place? Jasper?”

It may seem silly for a police officer to ask about my dog. They knew Jasper’s reputation for sensing something off. He proved more than once, he was a better judge of character than me.

I groaned inwardly as Rick picked up Jasper.

“He gave a steady low growl from the time of the shot. Then he was a shaking, hissing mess when it sounded like someone was coming toward us.”

Praise for Connections, Conflict & Murder

“The characters use their wits and training to figure things out, rather than taking stupid chances. I like the sense of community amongst Stacie and her friends.” Reader Review

"Thank your for all the twists and turns. You kept me guessing to the end (again). I can't wait for the next one!" Reader Review

Holidays, Hijinks & Murder

A Stacie Maroni Mystery #5 : A Holiday Cozy Mystery

Deck the halls until the shots rang out.

The attempt to get Stacie in the holiday spirit falls flat when someone shoots Santa’s elf. As Stacie and friends help the elf and deal with the potential witnesses, one man stands out, in an old wool coat, the lapels blocking his face.

Ignoring police demands, he disappears into the crowd only to reappear at strategic times.

When the elf recovers and Santa is killed, the initial motives go up in smoke and the search is on for the true motive.

With upheaval in her relationship and a killer on the loose, Stacie embraces her "bah humbug" perspective as she considers the mall Santa set up and his murder. Enjoy this cozy holiday mystery with Stacie and her friends to get you in the holiday spirit.

Holidays, Hijinks & Murder is available through AMAZON and FREE with Kindle Unlimited

Read an excerpt:

By choice, I avoid shopping at the mall, or anywhere else, the weekend after Thanksgiving. In high school and college, I worked retail at the holidays, so I know. People are outright nasty and aggressive about getting their Black Friday bargains.

I’d spent the morning, like most Saturdays at Cornerstone Community Women’s Shelter providing trauma counseling as a volunteer. That probably didn’t help my mood. To be honest, I was feeling pretty “bah humbug.”

With my dad’s remarriage last winter, he and his wife were spending the holidays on a cruise ship and my brother, Vince, was deployed. It didn’t help, being from New England, I associated the holidays with cold weather and snow. We’d only had one frost and mostly mild weather. It didn’t feel like Christmas. To top it off, the man in my life, Kevin? We were in limbo.

My two cheery friends, Jillian and Trina, dragged me to the Beckman Springs Mall with hopes of putting me in the holiday mood and making a dent in holiday shopping. Friends for a long time, and knowing me well, they had started in before Thanksgiving and kept needling me when they picked me up. Trina was the worse of the two.

“Where’s your holiday spirit, Stacie?”

“Hey, I have a wreath and some decorations at my house.” Too busy to search out last year’s decorations, I’d gone to Target the day before Thanksgiving after they nagged me last weekend.

“You need to get in the spirit, Stacie. This could be the best Christmas ever.”

Trina bounced as she delivered her pep talk. Always dressed colorfully, Trina had on red leggings, an oversized green tunic with red swirls, and a black belt and boots. Coordinated with her outfit, she had streaks of red and green in her reddish brown hair.

“Besides, shopping is fun. Think of all the great things we could find.” Jillian added. I did like to shop, just not in crowds.

The Beckman Springs Mall wasn’t the largest around. It was the closest though, with Macy’s, Dillards, the usual mall chains, and a boutique store or two. Unlike other times of the year, the parking lot was packed. As we approached the mall, the Salvation Army person with the big red kettle rang his bell.

Inside the mall entrance, I was surprised to hear voices in song. A group of eight in Dickens era clothes were singing carols. We joined in and applauded when Jingle Bells was over. Live music was much better than the constant piped in carols in many stores since mid-October. The mall was more crowded than usual, yet not packed. Not as bad as I expected.

“Look.” I pointed to a placard indicating a special holiday event at each of the three entrances and the times. The blue entrance hosted the Dickens era singers, the yellow entrance was the place for a high school string ensemble, and the red entrance featured an elementary school chorale group. The different legs of the mall were color coded to help people remember where they parked their car.

“That’s one way to entice people to check out every store in the mall.” Jillian nodded her approval of the ploy. “Okay, let’s go to Dillards men. I know what I want to get Wade for Christmas.” Wade was Jillian’s husband. Like Jillian, he was tall with an athletic build. He worked for Global Security.

As we walked in that direction, I glanced at the stores we passed. Not unlike many other malls, one store reminded me of a chameleon, changing with the season.

“Look. Last week the displays were all Thanksgiving. They must have worked all night changing to Christmas so quickly.”

“We’ll stop there on the way out. They have cute stuff. I want to get something for Bill’s place. He has almost as much holiday spirit as you and Scrooge,” Trina groused.

“Do you have ideas for what to get Bill?” Jillian turned to me and added, “Kevin?”

“I don’t have any idea what to get Kevin or if we are even exchanging gifts. From what he told me last week, he’s not sure he will get home for Christmas.”

“Don’t stress over this, Stacie. You’re invited to dinner at Bill’s on Christmas Eve. Along with half the Beckman Springs police, of course. Everyone is bringing something. You can be in charge of making sure there’s plenty of rocky road ice cream. If Kevin’s around, he’s invited.”

Bill and Trina were an unlikely couple. He was very quiet, reserved, and a policeman in Beckman Springs. In contrast, she was wild, impulsive, exuberant, and full of energy. He wasn’t the most social and I figured the party was more Trina than him.

“Oh, Trina, that’s so nice of you and Bill.”

I gave her a hug, which she barely tolerated.

“His place is boring, all grays. That’s why we have to find some stuff to spruce up Bill’s place.”

“He’s not into the decoration thing?” Jillian asked.

Trina snorted. “He says I am all the decoration he needs.”

We laughed. “That is very sweet. And you do dress the part.”

“I want to get Bill something wild. Do they make ugly holiday sweaters for men?” Trina smiled and emitted a wicked laugh.

Jillian and I chuckled.

“I’m going to check out the housewares section. I have an idea for my dad and Deanna.”

“We’ll find you there, then. Wade needs some new shirts and a sweater. Check out the decorations over there, too, Stacie.”

We all went in separate directions. After an hour of shopping, Dillards got a chunk of our change. Trina didn’t find an ugly sweater, but did find the mixer her mother wanted. I picked up a holiday platter for my dad. Jillian had two bags, all shirts, and Wade had the start of a new wardrobe.

“What’s with all the shirts, Jillian?” Trina asked.

“The security company is expanding and he needs to do the ‘meet and greet’ with new customers, something he didn’t usually do before. He needs to look the part, whether he likes it or not.”

“No pants? Only shirts?” It seemed odd to me unless the ‘meet and greet’ was virtual.

“The look will be pressed jeans with more formal shirts. A compromise.” She shrugged and we headed in the direction of Macy’s, the anchor on the red leg. We spotted the sign for Santa up ahead in the mall center.

“Think we can get our picture with Santa? Maybe all three of us. Really make his day.” Trina joked.

“And, Trina what would you ask Santa for?”

Jillian laughed as Trina turned away, not answering her question. We were joking and laughing when a shot rang out and people started screaming and running for the exit. Then another shot.

Praise for Holidays, Hijinks & Murder

“Fast moving short holiday mystery. Good family characters and a very interesting plot…” Reader Review

"Holidays, Hijinks & Murder is filled with delightfully defined realistic characters, features an interesting, smooth flowing plot that leaves no unanswered question and the dialogue rings true..." Reader Review

Temptation, Trouble & Murder

A Stacie Maroni Mystery #6

Caffeine a la corpse, anyone?

What starts as a simple quest for a cup of coffee quickly turns dark when amateur sleuth Stacie Maroni stumbles upon a dead body. The situation grows even more unsettling when she learns the victim had been following her. If that’s not bad enough, a fellow member of the foundation she spearheads seems to be missing in action.

Although these events don’t seem to be linked, Stacie is in the thick of things. At least the two mysteries distract her from the attention of, and her attraction to, a handsome detective.

With danger closing in, Stacie must unravel the mystery before she it’s too late. Luckily, she’s not alone. Her loyal Maltese, Jasper, is right by her side, alerting her to danger. Join Stacie Maroni and her friends for mystery, suspense, and romance.

Temptations, Trouble & Murder is available through AMAZON and FREE with Kindle Unlimited

Read an excerpt:

I jumped when my intercom buzzed with Rosie’s message of “Hot stuff’s on his way.”
Jillian bolted. I didn’t have time to catch my breath before O’Hare knocked on my door.
“Come on in.” I frowned.
He shook his head and pulled out a chair. Then he sat down in the one next to it. This wasn’t encouraging. I sat down.
“Stacie. Are you sure you don’t know the victim?”
“I don’t remember ever seeing him, never mind ‘knowing’ him. Why?”
“His name was John Askins. That ring a bell?”
I fidgeted and bounced my leg.
“No. Should it?”
He reached over and put his hand on my knee to stop its bouncing. “He had your name and your office information in his pocket. The only thing not on the piece of paper was your cell number and home address.”
I took a deep breath and exhaled. My mouth opened and closed. Another knock on the door and I froze.

O’Hare mumbled and then answered the door. It was Rick.

“Update?”

“Our missing person report. No sign of him, he can’t be found.”

O’Hare’s eyes got dark as he turned to me. “J. Colton Sterling. He’s missing.”

Leaning over, I took several deep breaths. A dead body and Colton missing. My thoughts immediately went to O’Hare’s earlier visit.

“When? What happened?”

“Sometime yesterday. He’d received some messages with veiled threats and alerted us. We got a call from his maid this morning that he wasn’t home and his office was looking for him.”

“That was why all the questions this morning.” He nodded and his shoulders slumped.

“Does Colton’s disappearance have anything to do with Sam’s death? Cybercrime? The body in the break room?”

“Hard to tell. The threats? They were against players in some game and him, personally. He printed out snippets from the game history after a player contacted him. I’m not a gamer. Lahomes volunteered to check out the game.”

Another of Beckman Springs officers, Lahomes was younger than some of the others and more tech savvy.

“Colton’s games are just games. Sometimes you make progress. Sometimes you don’t. Were players threatening each other?”

He threw his arms up in the air. “You got me. The snippets weren’t explicit enough to know who the target would be or how it would happen. Do players ever get frustrated?”

I laughed. “Oh, my, yes. And it’s not uncommon for people to start a game and quit.”

“Why would someone contact Colton and threaten him?”

I shrugged. “That’s beyond me. I’m not a gamer. Were the threats explicit or a general rant?”

“They don’t say much. Stacie, the bottom line? He’s missing. Either voluntarily or abducted.”

My recollection of Colton was consistent with high-tech security inside and out.

“Is there video footage? Cameras? Global Security or whatever other company he used for that should be able to access the feeds unless they were disabled.”

“No intruder or breech in security identified. No one else in the house or on the grounds until the maid showed up. He left the house on his own power. Only he didn’t take his car and no one knows where he is. We’ll know more in a day or two.”

“Wait. Maybe he needed to get away or something. He’s a private person and might not have shared that information.”

He stood up. “If not for the threats and his position, that would be reassuring. Stacie, please keep Colton’s situation private. In the meantime, we have a definite crime scene here. Rick will take your statement. I’ll catch you later.”

Praise for Temptation, Trouble & Murder

"This is a delightful mystery that will keep you guessing until the very end." Reader Review

"I lost coount of the laugh out loud moments! Make no mistake, this fabulous story has its serious moments as well, and as much as I wanted to know the 'who' and the 'why,' I didn't want this story to end." Reader Review

KEEPSAKES, KARMA & MURDER

A Stacie Maroni Mystery #7

The perfect first date. Good food, a romantic setting, good vibes. Until a woman screams and a shot is fired.

As a trauma counselor, Stacie Maroni, doesn’t hesitate to barge through the fray. She and Detective O’Hare are potential witnesses. Only it doesn’t stop there. When the husband is the immediate suspect, Meredith, an acquaintance of Stacie’s, asks her to help.

There’s evidence against the husband but it’s all circumstantial. Remembering how she felt when her soon-to-be ex was murdered, Stacie can sympathize. As contradictory information emerges, things get complicated and Stacie’s involved whether she likes it or not.

For every piece of evidence against Douglas, there are more questions and the motive is elusive. Join Stacie as the murderer is revealed.

Keepsakes, Karma & Murder is available through AMAZON and free with Kindle Unlimited.

Read an excerpt:

Keyed up about the upcoming evening, I realized if I didn’t calm down I’d need another shower. A few deep breaths helped. Only I still needed to decide what to wear.
The jitters reminded me of my first dates in the past, back when I was in college. With a sigh, I realized it didn’t matter how old I was, what mattered was how invested I was in this first date with Michael O’Hare, also known as Detective O’Hunk.

Chuckling to myself, I recognized that my anticipation had been building since he kissed me on Christmas Eve. Only, I’d made a New Year’s resolution to not get involved and focus on what I wanted for six months.

Whenever I did see him casually with friends at the Creekview Lounge or because of the murder in January, he subtly let me know he was interested yet kept his distance. Until last week when he called and invited me to dinner. Just the two of us.

My phone played my best friend’s ringtone, and I answered. “Hey, Jillian. What’s up?”

“Are you dressed yet, Stacie? What are you wearing?” I groaned. “I can’t decide!” With a chuckle, I added, “I thought about wearing my black go-to-funeral dress since he’s commented on it. Still, it’s not my nicest and this is dinner, not a funeral or a swanky charity event.”

Jillian chuckled. “Stacie, how about the blue sheath? It’s about the same cut as the black one and it will bring out the blue in your eyes. It looks good on you.” She paused and teased, “You have shoes that match, right?”

“Ha ha! You know I do. I like your idea.” My clothes – all my clothes – always matched. I noticed the time and shrieked.

“Uh oh, he’ll be here in ten minutes. Later, Jillian.”

I disconnected and tried to put clothes away as I pulled out everything to go with the blue dress. In a panic, I hoped it still fit. I’d gained weight since I caught my now deceased husband, Ted, in the act. Thankfully, the dress fit.

The security system pinged and Jasper, my Maltese, alerted me I had company as I put the finishing touches on my makeup. Brush in hand, I greeted O’Hare – Michael – at the door. Getting used to calling him “Michael” would take some time.

“Come on in. I just need to take care of Jasper…”

I rambled and he put a finger on my lips.

“Relax. You look beautiful.” He removed his finger and replaced it with his lips for a light kiss. “Let’s take care of Jasper and then get some food. I’m starving.”

“You look nice, too.” At six foot, with brown hair and gray eyes, all muscle, O’Hare, or O’Hunk as my good friend Trina called him, easily turned heads. In the three years or so I’d known him, he’d always looked haggard, in need of a haircut, and always with the same sports coat. Not tonight.

Jasper jumped around and we let him out. While we waited, O’Hare rubbed my shoulders and I shivered. Jasper fed and everything locked up, we left. He’d told me we were eating at an upscale restaurant in Reston, Sutherland’s Gourmet Palate.

In the car, he asked, “How are things at Foster’s Insurance Group? I haven’t been there in a while.” Foster’s is where I work as an HR specialist.

“I guess that’s a good thing, right? It means I haven’t been involved in any murders.”

He laughed. “That is the positive side of it. The downside is I didn’t have any excuse to stop by and drive Rosie crazy.”

Rosie is my admin, an older woman with a bubbly personality and not so much impulse control. She has the hots for O’Hare even though she is much older than him and should know better.

“Yeah, I think she missed your visits as much as I did.” He reached over and squeezed my hand.

I asked, “How about you? You’re always busy, aren’t you?” I recalled at one point thinking he must work twelve-hour days.

“Always busy. Not always a murder, sometimes missing persons, burglary… the full range of criminal activities. As you’re aware, crimes involving the privileged come with extra pressure to make things right faster. Most of the time, I love my job, though. It keeps me on my toes.”

“That’s important. I don’t think I’ve ever asked you – what do you do for fun?”

“When I have time, I like to hike, maybe go fishing or camping, get away from the day-to-day stuff. I like to dance and hang out with friends. You?” “Dancing, friends, skiing, yoga. Walking and hiking.” I chuckled. “I’m afraid my idea of camping is a hotel or cabin with running water, O’Hare.”

He laughed. “No problem. I know of places in the mountains with fully equipped cabins. We may have to look into that. Uh, Stacie, I picked this restaurant for a couple of reasons. First, it’s a nice place. Also, with it in Reston and not Beckman Springs, I’m less likely to run into people I’ve met on the job. Besides, the food is good. Only I don’t think they have rocky road ice cream or pizza on the menu. What else do you eat?” This was a standard joke among my friends and I punched his arm. “I eat most foods, though I never got into the fancy sauces and I’m definitely not a great cook. I ate there once on business with Lionel Smythe, Chief Rizzo, and Austin Beasley. No worries.” Lionel, Rizzo and Beasley were on the foundation board to help victims of domestic violence with me and others. He smiled and I sneered. “Besides, I always have rocky road ice cream at home.” “Do you eat it with chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and a cherry on top?” He pulled into the parking lot as he asked the question. Parked, he looked to me for an answer. “Not usually, but that sounds sinful.” His eyes twinkled at my response. Inside we were seated and the service was good. Once again, I experienced “sticker shock” at the prices. I ordered one of the less expensive entrees, knowing I wouldn’t finish it all. We had some wine, and ate, continuing our conversation and getting to know each other outside the context of a murder. “How’s your father doing?” I smiled. “He seems more mellow since he married Deanna. She keeps him grounded. On the other hand, he must still have access to the police blotter. He calls every time there is a murder in Beckman Springs or anywhere nearby to be sure I’m not involved in it.” He laughed. “Thankfully, we don’t have that many in the suburbs. If you lived in a big city, that would be a different story. If I remember, you have a brother. Military, right?” “Good memory. Yes, Vince is career military and deployed right now. Not sure when we’ll see him again. Even when he’s got time off, he usually goes into hiding. It was good he managed to make their wedding last January. What about you?” “Always wanted to do police work, started out on the streets, and worked my way up. My parents constantly berate me over my obsession with my job. They still live in Maryland along with my two sisters, both younger and married with kids.” “Do you see them often?” “Weddings, births, anniversaries, and the occasional funeral. The holidays are iffy due to the job. I usually make Thanksgiving or Christmas and pop in for a brief visit for other special occasions.” Our conversation halted when a woman screamed. “Stay here.” O’Hare took off in the direction of the scream. A few minutes later, a shot rang out and chaos ensued. While people ducked under tables or ran for the front doors, I pushed through to find O’Hare. As I approached the hallway in back, I heard a man yell, “Don’t move or I’ll shoot.”

Praise for Keepsakes, Karma & Murder

“Keepsakes, Karma & Murder is an everything you could wish for and more mystery with a delightful slice of romance!” Reader Review

“This book moved from one exciting scene to the next as Stacie became part of the murder investigation.” Reader Review

MARRIAGE, MALICE & MURDER

A Stacie Maroni Mystery # 8

Love is in the air on the perfect day for a wedding, that is, until someone offs the wedding planner.

Nothing puts a damper on celebration than a corpse. The wedding planner had done a great job. Predictably, he did his best to jack up the price with extras to please the "momzilla" mother of the bride who insisted on a traditional, monochromatic wedding. Even so, the bride prevailed and Trina and Bill’s wedding burst with color.

The victim also worked as event planner at the local country club, where he was popular with the men for his organizational skills and with the ladies for other reasons. The groom and many guests police officers complicated the situation.

Everyone is treated as a suspect – including Stacie Maroni, amateur sleuth, and the mother of the bride. With some happy and some less happy clients, an ex-wife, and more, the suspect pool seems endless.

As the investigation goes sideways, Stacie’s instincts kick in as she tries to identify the killer on her own. Only a series of suspicious incidents ensue with Stacie as the target. Can she figure out who killed the wedding planner?

If you enjoy cozy mysteries by Agatha Raisin and others, you'll like this tangled mystery.

Marriage, Malice & Murder is available from AMAZON and free with Kindle Unlimited.

Read an excerpt:

The iconic day of Trina and Bill’s wedding arrived at last. True to Trina’s wishes, everything burst with color, though all of us in the bridal party found our dresses in slightly muted shades of the rainbow than she’d selected. The tuxes matched the hue.
Most impressive was the way the colors reflected off of Trina’s simple, shimmering white gown. For a change, her hair was her natural reddish brown, the achromatic gown and hairstyling concessions to her ultra-conservative mother.

The service was short. Bill and Trina had written their own vows and even the pastor smiled at the simplicity and heartfelt words. My eyes brimmed. Trina’s mother, of course, tsked-tsked at the non-traditional lines. Loudly.

The guest list was large in my mind, with over a hundred guests. They enjoyed an open bar, while the photographer and videographer, Stefan, tortured the wedding party and families at the direction and whim of Trina’s mother, Mrs. Wheeler.

In the ladies room, Jillian gave me a hug. “They look so happy. The colors. Truly a celebration of their love. Only, Stacie, I hope Bill knows what he’s in for.”

I laughed. “I think he has a good idea after all the shenanigans since they started dating. She’s brought him out of his shell.”

The venue for the wedding was in one of the older homes with gorgeous gardens in Beckman Springs. Not a development I was familiar with, though many of the Beckman Springs country club set lived near there.

Thankfully, although Trina’s parents had the wealth to secure the venue, they belonged to a different country club. I’d initially feared that my once father-in-law would be invited. That would have been awkward. My husband, Ted, was killed in the middle of our divorce negotiations.

The photoshoot over, the bridal party headed for dinner. O’Hare and I were paired in the bridal party. Along with O’Hare, Bill worked with Beckman Springs PD. Bill also had many friends on the Reston PD, including Kevin McNair, now an FBI agent. He and Bill were good friends as were Bill and O’Hare, the current man in my life. Trina paired K

“So glad that’s over. I mean he must have taken hundreds of pictures already.”

“Don’t you remember, Jillian? That’s what it was like at my wedding, too. I never even got to see most of them.”

She snorted.

“Come to think of it I don’t remember seeing proofs or anything either. I suspect Noth eliminated any photos I was in."

“At least nobody hovered and complained nonstop.”

I shook my head and wondered at how Trina survived her mother, who we referred to as Momzilla. Despite Momzilla Wheeler, everything went smoothly, even with the awkwardness of Kevin being there and doing his best to avoid O’Hare and me. I’d dated Kevin for a while before he joined the FBI. He left soon after the photographer finished the wedding party photos with a “duty calls” apology to Bill.

Wade joined Jillian at our table to fill the empty seat. Dinner progressed, followed by the traditional toasts. As the meal service ended, Bill’s brother and best man, Ben, got everyone’s attention.

“A toast to Bill and Trina. Surprised as I was the first time I met Trina, her colorful hair and leggings, I’ve never seen my brother happier. May you continue to bring happiness to each other in the years to come. Cheers!”

A younger and more out-going version of Bill, Ben raised his glass and we all followed suit as the bride and groom kissed. Trina’s sister and maid of honor, Penny, raised her glass of champagne.

“Trina, Bill, best wishes for a long and happy marriage filled with joy and lots of colorful memories.”

Her father and then Bill’s added their well wishes. It was obvious from Trina’s dad, she’d gotten the quirky gene from him. His tux jacket was already open and he played with his multicolor tie. His eyes brimmed as he spoke and he’d been smiling most of the day.

On the other hand, Bill’s dad was as stuffy as Bill when I first met him, his toast traditional and brief. Two people I’d never have thought of together, Trina and Bill both beamed. Toasts over, the band leader made the usual transition into the dancing part of the evening.

“We’d like to invite the bride and groom for their first dance as husband and wife.”

Trina kicked off her heels and bounced to the dance floor as the band played “I Can’t Help Falling in Love with You.” On cue, the music transitioned to “From this Moment” and Trina’s father joined them as did Bill’s mother, with Trina’s dad stealing her away from Bill, and Bill dancing with his mother, part way through the song.

As the song ended, the first few bars of “Beautiful Noise” sounded and Trina shrieked. I stood and got Jillian’s attention.

“Come on, I think we need to get out there.”

Soon, many of us ladies took the floor with Trina in the middle. It didn’t take long for Trina to lose the veil and let her hair loose. Her mother shrieked and several of us close to Trina, high-fived her. This was her wedding, after all.

As the night progressed, the dance selection varied from slow and romantic to fast and furious, with even a line dance thrown in. O’Hare and I danced. Jillian coerced Wade onto the dance floor. Ronnie, another of our friends, and her husband joined us.

Trina’s mother continued in her role as ‘momzilla,’ hounding Trina and complaining about the lack of proper behavior. Jillian and I did our best to sweep her away when Bill wasn’t at her side. It was a very mixed crowd, with Mrs. Wheeler’s country club friends doing the social dance, while Trina and Bill’s friends were having too much fun to worry about trying to impress anyone. Even Bill’s parents danced with abandon.

Jillian and I deserted the men as the evening wore on. In the ladies room, we heard a crescendo and Jillian poked me.

“Hurry up. As one of the few single ladies out there, there may be a bouquet in your future.”

I gave her my best version of an evil eye and held my hands up as a stop sign.

“None of that. O’Hare and I are taking things slowly. There’s no rush.”

When the cake was wheeled out, Mrs. Wheeler gasped.

“There must be some mistake.”

She started to march toward the cake, and Mr. Wheeler grabbed her. In her momzilla role, she had decreed that the cake be multi-layered and white with the old fashioned bride and groom on top. Trina had complied with those details. Only she ordered a six layer cake and flowers cascaded from layer to layer in the colors matching the dresses and tuxes of the wedding party.

Very colorful, and the layers varied in cake flavor. Mrs. Wheeler wouldn’t know that part though until the cake was cut. With Mr. Wheeler keeping Trina’s mom away, the cake cutting proceeded. Needless to say, there was lots of laughter as the bride and groom fed each other.

Penny caught the bouquet and, much to Mrs. Wheeler’s dismay, Lahomes, another of Beckman Springs finest, got the garter. The band started playing again with more dancing. O’Hare, Murdock, Lahomes, and Reardon, Bill’s fellow officers at Beckman Springs PD, and who knows who else disappeared for a while.

Some of the guests left, mostly the ones from Crystal Falls. At Trina’s signal, Penny, Jillian, and I joined her in the large room reserved for the bride. We helped her change out of the wedding gown and put on a dress with colorful flowers and leggings underneath. Her traveling clothes. The flight to Hawaii would be long, and I had no doubt they’d be asleep for most of it.

We were still laughing as we rejoined everyone and O’Hare’s arm came around me as we escorted Bill and Trina to the limousine, decorated with colorful bows and streamers and the requisite “Just Married” signage. The guests were all provided with small bubble jars in lieu of rice.

The videographer continued to roll and everyone cheered as Bill and Trina took off under bubbles. Some of the guests went directly to their cars and left. As we returned to the reception hall, everyone chattered about how happy they seemed. The band broke down their equipment and the waitstaff cleared tables.

As O’Hare and I collected our belongings, including O’Hare’s tux jacket, one of the servers ran into the room and glanced around. He veered in our direction and almost collided with O’Hare.

“You’re the police, yes? Come quick.”

O’Hare got Rick’s attention and we followed the man into the large kitchen. The help all huddled to one side as the man pointed to a body on the floor behind the counter island.

A knife and sobs grabbed my attention. O’Hare hesitated long enough to roll up his sleeves before he and Rick approached the body. I didn’t recognize the man or the sobbing woman by his side, at least initially.

Praise for Marriage, Malice & Murder

“This is a fun cozy with likeable characters and a good storyline.” Reader Review

“A thrilling mystery with twists & turns that keep you engaged right to the end!" Reader Review

Bitterness, Betrayal & Murder

A New Year's Eve marred by murder.

An urgent call from Stacie Maroni’s friend, Meredith, interrupts the sleuth’s New Year's Eve plans for a romantic evening. Instead, she and Detective Michael O'Hare rush to the country club only to find it is too late to help their friend.

Not quite how they wanted to bring in the New Year. A fully booked event for the annual bash translates into an overabundance of suspects and a variety of motives. Never one to back away from a challenge, Stacie's sleuthing skills kick in.

When a wannabe reporter blogs about the murder and implies that Stacie knows the killer’s identity, the investigation takes a dangerous turn. Stacie’s faced with secrets and memories, along with hints of organized crime lurking in the shadows.

Bitterness, Betrayal & Murder is available on Amazon and free with Kindle Unlimited.

Read an excerpt:

The wind howled and even with the heat on, I shivered as I checked the thermostat. Jasper barked, and I grumbled as I wrapped the crochet afghan around my shoulders to let him out. A Maltese with a nose for danger, he took little time outside to do his business.
Inside, it was toasty despite the storm outside. In Virginia, we were not liable to get snow, and the temperature held steady above freezing. Chilly, yes, but not unexpected for late December. Back inside, I dried Jasper off with every intent of wrapping both of us back up when the phone rang.
I smiled as I checked caller ID. “Hi, Michael.”

Detective Michael O’Hare and I had been involved for the past six months, but met each other long before that when someone killed my soon-to-be ex-husband, Ted Noth.

“How are you, Stacie? You still up for going to Creekview tonight?”

“For sure.”

Creekview Lounge was a local venue we frequented often, along with several of our friends. Not a fancy place to toast in the New Year. Still, it was a good place for all our friends to celebrate together.

The clientele were predominately professionals in their thirties to forties. They offered music courtesy of a DJ and a dance floor.

“I’m swamped as always. Any chance you can get a ride and I’ll meet you there?”

I chuckled. “No problem. Things hopping there with New Year’s Eve craziness?”

He snorted. “That’s an understatement. Tension’s high for sure. I have to tie up some loose ends. I shouldn’t be too much longer here, but I need to get home and shower.”

“Long day?”

“Called in around six this morning and still churning. I’ll be good after a shower and some decent coffee. See you soon.”

“Looking forward to it, Michael.”

We disconnected, and I called my best friend since college days, Jillian Fleetwood. Often, Jillian, and her husband, Wade, provided me with a ride to Creekview. New Year’s Eve, the fewer cars on the road the better.

“Hey, Jillian. You ready for the new year?”

“I have high hopes, Stacie. What’s up? Are you getting dressed up for tonight?”

Creekview catered to professionals, but the dress was casual, not formal by any means. Our normal attire was jeans and a top.

“I’m thinking business casual. Nice pants and my favorite blue cashmere sweater. Jewelry to dress it up a little.”

“Sounds good. Wade wants to know what time we should pick you up.” She chuckled.

A quick glance at my watch and I answered. “Eight?”

“O’Hare’s still at work?”

“You guessed it. I’m always surprised when we go to dinner at a normal time. It could be worse. He works days most of the time. No split shifts or nights.”

I’d dated two police officers since my marriage to Ted ended. Both of them worked rotating shifts, and that was not fun. At least with O’Hare’s duties, we both worked days even if his days often were longer than mine.

“See you soon, Stacie.”

I stayed curled up on my couch and finished my current mystery novel before feeding Jasper, showering, and getting dressed. With Jasper settled when the laptop pinged, I glanced at the screen and smiled.

Jillian and I met in college and we both work at Forster’s Insurance Group. For all the years I was married to Ted, and since, Jillian’s been the rudder that kept me sane.

She’s not a southern belle, and that irked my father-in-law, Hamilton Noth, to no end. She’s taller than me, and Wade is six feet. He works at Global Security and is naturally suspicious. Both of them also dressed up some, but nothing fancy.

Creekview was a comfortable place. Halsey directed the other bartender to keep the drinks flowing. When not bartending part time, he worked in technology and dated our friend, Marina Napoli, a police officer with Beckman Springs PD. She hung out by the bar, per usual.

The rest of our group had already pushed a few tables together. Most couples included one person with Beckman Springs PD and their date. These guys all worked with O’Hare. The only exception was Bill Riley. He worked for Reston PD and had married my other good friend, Trina, a few months ago.

Trina’s energy level soared as usual. I had to laugh. She’d dressed up her standard tunic and leggings to portray a tuxedo. Her tunic depicted a gold tuxedo and cummerbund, with a teal dress shirt. Her leggings matched the color of the shirt. Bill sported the bowtie that would have completed her tux.

Since her marriage a few months back, she’d stopped coloring her hair to match her clothes.

“You like it? I tried to find something that would suit the occasion and still be comfortable.”

Trina, you look great.”

Rick Murdock and his fiancée, Alyssa, joined us. I’d dated Rick for a few months. It had been awkward interacting in social situations and police-involved ones. Other than his tendency to call Jillian, Trina, and me the “trouble trio,” with his engagement and my relationship with O’Hare, things were less strained.

The DJ knew us all and after a quick “Happy New Year,” played one of Trina’s favorites, “Shout.”

We all danced. Other than some decorations and a box of hats and blow things, it was a typical night out at Creekview. O’Hare arrived, his hair still wet from a shower, and we danced.

My phone pinged. It was Meredith, the woman who prompted my almost divorce from Ted Noth. It was unlike her to call me, and I stepped away to take the call.

“Hey, Meredith. What’s up?”

“Help. He’s going to kill me. You’ve got to help me.”

“Who’s going to kill you? Where are you?”

“The country club for the New Year’s Gala. I…”

I heard a crash and then her scream. I yelled her name. O’Hare joined me.

“What’s happening, Stacie?”

“It was Meredith. She said someone was going to kill her. Then she screamed. Her phone is still active.”

I handed him my phone, and he listened. I could hear sounds. Nothing I recognized.

“Did she tell you where she was?”

“Country club.”

“Don’t disconnect. Do you know the number at the club?”

“Sure. Can I use your phone?”

He handed me his phone and unlocked it. I called the club. I knew the number from when Ted and I were members way back when. In the few years since finding them together and Ted’s murder, somehow Meredith continued to have a presence in my life, either helpful or needing help.

I put the call on speaker. “Hello. This is an emergency. Can you page Meredith Langford? She called me and screamed. I need to make sure she’s alright. She may be hurt.”

The maître d’ who answered the call grunted. “This is a formal affair. Paging someone is not protocol.”

I rolled my eyes, and O’Hare’s mouth twitched.

“Well, if you won’t page her, I guess I’ll have to call the police and have them show up to verify she’s all right. Is that what you want?”

I knew it wasn’t. He exhaled.

“That will not be necessary.”

I heard him speaking to someone there. Their conversation muffled, I only caught one or two words. He cleared his throat.

“Emergency Page for Meredith Langford. Please come to the front door immediately. Repeat. Meredith Langford please come to the front door immediately. This is an emergency.”

I shrugged. He made the announcement and had to know if she didn’t respond, there’d be trouble. O’Hare extended his hand, and I gave him his phone back as the man made the announcement yet again. The call with Meredith’s phone disconnected. I tried to call her back. No one answered. I tried again. The call went straight to voicemail.

“This is Detective O’Hare, Beckman Springs Police. Connect me to whoever is in charge of security. Now.”

The man who’d answered the call to begin with mumbled, his words were garbled. Then silence. “One minute, Detective. Vosmer is on his way.”

I rolled my eyes and mouthed, “Pompous idiot. Issues with Meredith.”

O’Hare grunted, pointed to my phone, and mouthed “Anything?”

I shook my head. He mouthed, “Call Noth?”

I cringed at the thought of calling Hamilton Noth, Ted’s father. A domineering man, he and I clashed from the day Ted and I announced our engagement. My working class background didn’t measure up to his expectations for Ted’s wife.

Still, as the minutes ticked by and my concern for Meredith increased, I clicked on his name and made the call.

“Why are you calling me?” His voice boomed with his usual disdain and disrespect.

“Meredith called me from the country club and then she screamed. She’s not answering her phone. We had her paged with no response. Vosmer isn’t responding from security. If we don’t get some response, Beckman Springs will respond.”

I spoke fast, not letting him get a word in. He didn’t need to ask who the “we” represented. He knew O’Hare and I were involved.

He huffed. “I heard the page. She was here. Maybe she left. Leave it alone, Stacie.”

“Afraid not, Hamilton.” I emphasized his first name for effect. “We’re on our way and if we don’t hear from her and her car’s still in the parking lot? Expect company.”

I disconnected. O’Hare kissed me.

“He gets you every time. Good to see you not back down. Let’s go. I don’t want to make a liar out of you.”

I let Jillian and Wade know we were going to check on Meredith, and we’d be back before midnight. O’Hare let Rick and Marina know where we were going. Meredith could be melodramatic. The whole thing could be resolved before we even got to the club. If only.

Praise for Bitterness, Betrayal & Murder

“Fast-paced and cleverly layered, this mystery pulls you in from the first page. Stacie Maroni is sharp, fearless, and impossible not to root for. Loved the tension, the twists, and the emotional undercurrent. You’ve created something truly compelling.” Reader Review

“The plot is fully balanced with just the right amounts of mystery, suspense, tension, dry wit and humor combining to build the plot to it’s surprising, yet supremely satisfying conclusion!” Reader Review

Jealousy, Jitterbug & Murder

A Stacie Maroni Mystery #10

Three young women, a dance studio, a bungled kidnapping, and a murder.

When Stacie Maroni is mistakenly abducted, she fears for the life of the intended victim. The young woman, who worked at the same company as Stacie, soon turns up dead. One of the victim’s two friends takes off without word and the other ends up in the hospital.

With the kidnappers afraid Stacie could identify them and her continued involvement in the investigation, threats lurk around every corner. Her questions lead to a dance studio where the women worked in the evenings. Add in a tech company with a dance-oriented employee program.

A quick lesson in the jitterbug provides more clues as Stacie navigates the unexpected twists and turns of the murder and the continued threat.

Jealousy, Jitterbug & Murder is available on AMAZON and free with Kindle Unlimited.

Read an excerpt:

Wherever I was, it was dark, cold, and damp, making my skin crawl and my head ache. That might work for mushrooms, not for me.

I couldn’t see anything, but sensed someone had blindfolded me. When I tried to remove the blindfold, I realized my hands were tied and for some reason I couldn’t lift them to my face.

I closed my eyes and visualized my day. It had been a workday and a busy one at that. With our relationship deepening, Detective Michael O’Hare and I had traveled to New York to see my dad and his wife, get away from work, and go skiing.

Unfortunately, that meant three days of work to catch up on. Nothing out of the ordinary. I remembered talking to Rosie, my administrative assistant, as I left our area and the shock of the cold wind as I ventured outside. I could tell I still had on my puffy coat.

I had only the vaguest memory of someone covering my nose and me fighting back. Obviously, I didn’t win that fight.

My dog, Jasper, came to mind, and I hoped somebody figured out I was missing. A door slammed and I froze.

“You got the wrong woman, you idiots. Todd, you had the address on Palisades and her name. How could you mess it up?”

“We went to the Palisades address and there was no such number. I called and talked to Rudy. He asked for the name. I told him. He told us to go to this building, that she should be leaving. We had her description. This woman came out. Long blonde hair, about five feet eight, and slim. She could be a model.”

“I’m going to have words with Rudy. Foster isn’t her last name, it’s the name of a company. And the woman you picked up has brown hair, not blonde.”

He screamed, and then I heard a scuffle.

“What now?”

“You blindfolded her? She didn’t see either of you idiots?”

“Okay. What you’re going to do and this time don’t mess it up! You’re going to take her to the park nearby. It should be closed and no one should be around. Dump her on a path and leave before someone spots you. Do you think you can handle that?”

“What if she wakes up?”

This was an unfamiliar male voice, not Todd.

“You already knocked her out once, Abbott. Knock her out again. I’ll expect to see on the news that some woman was found at the park, uninjured. You got that? No funny business. Get the job done. In the meantime, I’ll follow up with my source and get the information to find Leigh.”

I heard the voices moving in my direction as I felt a vibration. My phone. The puffy coat hid it. Too bad I couldn’t reach it. Also, too bad I’d disabled the FindMyFriend app.

The hinges on the door squeaked. Whoever he was, his friends lacked brains. I didn’t resist when one of them grabbed me from under my arms and the other picked up my feet. I let my head loll back and worked at being a dead weight.

They moved me into what felt like the back seat of a car. Then I sensed the car start and move. I tried to count seconds to the park, whichever park that was, only I lost track. The car stopped.

“Where should we put her?”

“Near the sign. We better hurry. They probably patrol here to be sure nobody’s camping or something.”

“Okay. Let’s do it. Boss is already mad.”

I heard someone grunt. “Uh, Todd? Gloves. Just in case they can get prints off the coat.”

Another grunt, and the door by my head opened. They pulled me out and dropped me on the ground. The air was crisp and cold. I felt one of them at my feet.

“What are you doing?”

“Boss wants her to be found, Abbott. I’m untying her feet. When she comes to, she can walk to the street. No harm, no foul.”

“Okay. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

I didn’t dare move my feet until I heard the car leave. My legs moved, and I sat up. It took a few minutes for the dizziness to pass. I curled my feet under me and tried to figure out how to dislodge my phone from my pocket.

I groaned. For all the times I’d butt-called people, you’d think I could do that on purpose. Nope. I knelt and attempted a modified downward dog, bringing my face down to my hands. The puffy coat made it difficult but, thanks to my yoga classes, I dislodged the blindfold and blinked.

It was dark, with a full or almost full moon providing light. My hands were connected to the rope still around my left foot. I looked around and spotted the blindfold. Shifting my body, I grabbed it. Potential evidence.

Once I managed to stand, I walked toward the road and stood under the streetlight. Hyde Grove Park. Not a park I frequented. Not knowing where I was and afraid my black coat would not be seen if I walked on the road, I knelt back down. The vibration from my phone spurred me on.

I worked at freeing the rope still around my left foot and then the rope on my hands. Eventually, the rope loosened, and I was able to get my right hand free. I immediately stuck the blindfold and rope into my coat pocket, opened my coat, and grabbed my phone.

I’d been missing for four hours. So many calls from Michael, I didn’t stop to count them. I called him.

“Stacie? Where are you? What happened?”

“Long story and I’m freezing. I’m at Hyde Grove Park. Any clue where that is?”

“Hang on. I’m calling Hyde Grove PD.”

I choked back a sob.

“They’re on their way. Ambulance, too. I’ll meet you at Mercy General in about twenty minutes.”

“Wait. Jasper okay?”

“He’s been out and fed. I’m at your place right now. Leave the call open, please. I’m getting in my car.”

“Okay. I’m so glad to hear your voice.”

“And I to hear yours. Do I hear sirens?”

“Yes and they’re getting louder.”

“Okay. If you keep the call open, you won’t have to repeat everything. Let the paramedics check you out.”

The ambulance arrived first. A female attendant came toward me, while the male attendant opened the back door.

“Stacie Maroni? My name is Debbie and his name is Wayne. Are you injured?”

“Probably bruised, definitely stiff and shaky. They knocked me out with something. I fought back. The next thing I knew I woke up somewhere and then two guys dumped me over here. One of them untied my feet before they took off.”

I coughed and Debbie unzipped my coat.

“Let me check your lungs and heart.”

Wayne joined us as a cruiser arrived and two policemen came toward us.

“Ma’am, do you have any identification?”

“No. I don’t know what happened to my purse and laptop.”

“Stacie.”

I looked at my phone and handed it to the closest officer. “Officers, this is Detective Michael O’Hare, Beckman Springs PD.”

“That you, O’Hare? Traynor, here. Badge Number?” He must have taken it off speaker as I didn’t hear Michael’s response.

“Mercy General. Got it.”

He returned my phone and turned to Debbie and Wayne.

“Take her to Mercy. We’ll meet her there and get her statement after she’s been checked out.”

I shivered and closed my coat up, almost lost my balance, and Wayne stabilized me. He and Debbie got me situated on the stretcher and inside the bus. At least it was warmer and out of the wind. Debbie started an IV on my left hand after rubbing it several times.

At Mercy, they unloaded me and handled the check-in process. Then, I was moved to a cubicle and onto a different stretcher. They closed the curtain and I waited. Warm, I unzipped my coat and checked to be sure the blindfold and rope were still in my pocket. I got my right arm out and grunted. The IV prevented me from taking the coat off completely.

Praise for Jealousy, Jitterbug & Murder

"I’m a huge Stacie fan and this entry in the series had plenty of what I’ve come to love – well-developed characters, interesting, topical plot, a steady pace, and an interesting resolution." Reader Review

"Fast paced and kept me up a bit longer last night than I planned. I'll be reading more of her series." Reader Review

Ventures, Vengeance & Murder

A Stacie Maroni Mystery #11

A prominent child advocate’s death is only the beginning…

When a prominent doctor and outspoken advocate for child abuse victims is murdered, trauma counselor and amateur sleuth Stacie Maroni can’t help but wonder if there’s more to the tragedy than meets the eye. At the same time, whispers of financial misappropriation in programs meant to aid victims have surfaced.

Both the good doctor and the suspect agencies shared interest in child welfare - could the two be connected, or is it just a coincidence? Stacie doesn’t believe in coincidence and neither does Detective O’Hare.

As Stacie extends her support to the doctor’s fiancée, Megan, she uncovers hints that more is afoot than meets the eye. When anonymous threats escalate into real danger, Stacie realizes she’s stumbled onto something totally unexpected.

With her own life on the line, and potentially, Megan’s, Stacie must untangle the truth before there are more victims.

Ventures, Vengeance & Murder is available on AMAZON and free with Kindle Unlimited.

Read an excerpt:

I jumped when my phone rang, then smiled. Detective Michael O’Hare and I were a couple, although his job had kept him busy the last few nights. Besides, dealing with a grumpy sick person didn’t translate to romantic evenings. He did stop and bring me chicken soup though.
“Hi, Michael. How are you?”

He groaned. “Busy. You sound better. I hoped to stop by, but I may not make it.” He grunted. “We got an anonymous call directing us to Old Country Road. When Lahomes and Marina got there, they found a man, dead. Still trying to figure out who he is.”

“Oh, my.”

“I’ll catch up with you later.”

A quick check to see if anything popped up on alerts yielded no information, and I groaned when I opened my email. After being out sick both Friday and Monday with the flu, there were too many messages and each one required a response of some sort.

Part of my grumpiness I blamed on allergies and a sinus infection. The rest was the day to day tedium of my job as HR Specialist at Foster’s Insurance. I felt better, but not up to par. I scanned my email to see which would be simple and quick.

My eyebrows rose when I spotted one from Lionel Smythe. He served as the chair, the overseer, and attorney for a foundation for women who were victims of domestic violence. Set up by my late husband, Ted Noth, the foundation focused on education, services, and prevention related to domestic violence.

I served as the co-chair as stipulated in Ted’s will, along with J. Colton Stewart. Ted had been Colton’s attorney dealing with theft of intellectual property at Colton’s technology corporation.

Lionel had also included Colton on this too short email. “Need to call a meeting. Let me know your availability.”

That was followed by a scheduler app with dates and times for the next week. I left the app up and replied all.

“What’s the purpose of the meeting, Lionel?”

Once I hit send, I studied the scheduler. Not a morning person, I confirmed late afternoon ones. I could do morning yoga, not morning people. Done, I hit submit and moved on. My phone pinged. It was Lionel.

“Stacie, we have a problem. Can you meet me some place? Starbucks?”

The man knew my weakness for skinny mocha latte.

“Lunch? What’s up?”

“Noon. The one on Main Street. I’ll explain it when I see you.”

He disconnected. I stared at my phone like it had the answers to all my questions. A glance at the clock, and I quickly let my friends know I had other plans for lunch. Most days, Jillian, Trina, Ronnie, and I ate at the table in my office, avoiding the noisy cafeteria.

Jillian, my best friend since college, worked in contracts and made sure I ate something nutritious. Trina in IT made sure all of us stayed connected, sometimes engaging her special, albeit questionable, internet skills. She was the bright and colorful friend.

Ronnie was the latest addition to our group. She’d worked for my husband, Ted, when he was murdered. She left that law practice and joined us at Foster’s. With a toddler, she rarely joined us for social events. Still, she’d taken up the gauntlet to teach me to cook.

Each of my friends replied to my message with some version of “why” and I answered, “Foundation business. Later.”

Before I left, my curiosity won out and I checked for another alert. O’Hare hadn’t mentioned the cause of death. Possibly, the man had a heart attack. Or was he murdered?

As I rushed out, Rosie tsked. “Having lunch with the hunky detective?”

Rosie’s my administrative assistant, an older lady who reminds me of Rosemary Clooney. She also has a crush on O’Hare.

“Afraid not, Rosie. See you after lunch.”

It was a short drive to Starbucks and I joined Lionel inside. An impressive attorney, he was short and slim, with a crewcut. As always, he wore a suit with a bowtie. We ordered and sat down.

I chuckled. “This is much better than the place with tables and chairs that looked like vegetables.” We’d met there once and the furniture distracted me.

“What’s the problem?”

His hands shook and he shredded his napkin. He glanced around and leaned forward.

He whispered. “Someone left a message on the foundation line. About one of the grants we awarded last year. The caller claimed the agency overspent their budget and not all for the goals of the grant.”

“Don’t they turn in quarterly reports or something?” At Foster’s Insurance, I had to run weekly, monthly, and quarterly reports.

“We do get reports with outcome data throughout the year. We have a record of how many people attended the educational sessions, for example, and their evaluation of the programs. The agency that added more trauma staff? They provided us with numbers of persons treated, whether they returned to the abuser or not, if they filed a police report, how many sessions they attended, and pre-/post- measures of self-worth, anxiety, and depression, if possible. As for budget, it’s an annual report and the year isn’t up yet.”

“I think the obvious solution is to ask for all grantees to submit a financial report. And make sure for all future grants, there is a financial report along with the outcome report quarterly. In their grant application, they indicated how the money would be spent. It shouldn’t be hard to determine if they did what was approved.”

“I know. I wanted to run it by you and Colton first. The meeting is to be sure we’re all on the same page for the next round of grants. At least one of those agencies with a grant already contacted me to see if they could get a renewal. We’ve never discussed that possibility.”

“Okay. Check in with Colton on this, but my suggestion? You email all three agencies we gave money to and ask for an itemized report of their spending to date, ASAP. You can frame it in the context of the next round of applications.”

“Thank you. I’ll check with Colton.” He leaned back.

We finished lunch and I drove back to work. I chuckled as I got off the elevator and found O’Hare waiting at Rosie’s desk.

“Hi, Detective. Is there a problem?”

“I need to touch base with you. Besides I missed you.” He leaned over and kissed me. Rosie squealed.

For a long time, we’d hidden our relationship from her. That all ended when she caught him kissing me and likened it to kissing Santa Claus.

“Let’s go to my office and you can fill me in.”

Praise for Ventures, Vengeance & Murder

“The writing is clean, and the plotting and pacing kept me engaged.” Reader Review

“I was entertained by the complexity of the mystery and the unexpected twists and turns. I enjoyed the fast pace of the tale.” Reader Review

Christa Reads and Writes

STACIE MARONI MYSTERIES

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