St. Paul, 1926—where ambition comes at a cost, especially for a woman.
Charlotte Van Elsberg is determined to become the city’s first female private investigator and help women in need. She’s already landed her first case: a grieving mother who wants answers about her daughter, Eleanor Kimball, a debutante killed in a suspicious car crash. Was it truly an accident or something more sinister? Char intends to find out. There’s just one hitch—Char’s husband.
Will Van Elsberg, a seasoned investigator, knows the job too well. It’s no profession for a petite young lady, and he’s not about to let his wife charge headfirst into danger. Char has other ideas. She agrees to hire bodyguards to satisfy his objections.
However, despite the addition of her “new team,” she soon learns that this job is a lot harder than it appears. Doors slam in her face, alibis don’t add up, and everyone appears to be hiding something. Does she have the grit and determination it takes to solve this case?
The more she digs into Eleanor’s carefully polished life, the more she uncovers the young woman’s secrets. Hidden truths that someone is desperate to keep buried. Evidence worth killing for. Now that Char is asking questions, who is determined to stop her from revealing the missing pieces?
If you love Prohibition-era intrigue and twisty whodunits, dive into this 1920s cozy mystery filled with clever clues, hidden secrets, and a bold female sleuth. Grab your copy today and start sleuthing!
“Robert can’t know about this,” Marjorie said in a low, cautious tone. “He believes Eleanor’s death was an accident and he considers the matter closed. Any attempt to dig up new information will cause doubt and suspicion, casting a blight on our reputation.”
“I can be very discreet,” I assured her. “Besides, a woman asking questions isn’t going to cause concern like it would if a man began poking around.”
Marjorie scrutinized me with a critical eye. “If I decide to retain your services, what assurances do I have that you’re trustworthy? I’ve never heard of you. Are you affiliated with Pinkerton?”
“No, but I do have experience in handling all manner of issues, and I have great counsel,” I replied, wishing I’d already chosen a name for my agency. At times like this, having an official-sounding name made me appear more professional. “My husband is also a private detective. His reputation is impeccable.”
Marjorie’s amber eyes lit up with curiosity. “Is that so? Perhaps I should hire him.”
“He’s overloaded with cases right now,” Ethel said, injecting herself into the conversation. “He shares an office with an attorney, Peter Garrett, and he works almost exclusively with Peter’s clients. Willard has needed their services a few times with real estate deals.”
“But can a woman be as effective?” Marjorie asked, her eyes shadowed with lingering doubt.
Keeping my expression neutral, I refused to let my disappointment show. I’d expected men to doubt my competence, but not another woman. “I will get answers for you,” I said firmly, my voice steady with resolve. “Give me a week. If I haven’t reached a breakthrough by then, our agreement is off, and you owe me nothing. Fair enough?”
A tall, gray-haired man wearing a dark tweed suit appeared in the window, scrutinizing us with narrowed eyes.
“What a wonderful garden you have, Marjorie,” Ethel said loudly and turned her back to the window.
Marjorie glanced back at the window and turned away quickly as well, confirming to me that the man in question was her husband, Robert. “My gardener came highly recommended,” she replied in a nervous, high-pitched voice. “You’ll have to come back in April when my spring perennials are in full bloom. Perhaps we’ll have luncheon, then, too.”
Ethel smiled conspiratorially as the three of us made our way toward her black limousine. “So, the agenda is set then? Charlotte will meet with you again in a few days to go over the specifics of the garden club’s next outing.”
Marjorie held off answering until we reached the car and out of the earshot of her husband. “All right,” she said to me. “I’ll meet with you again a week from today, but at nine o’clock when Robert is golfing. In the meantime, you are not to call my house under any circumstances. Is that clear? Robert must not get wind of what I’m doing, or he’ll be upset.”
“Yes, I understand,” I replied with a nod. “I’ll meet you here next Thursday at nine o’clock to give you all of the information I’ve acquired.”
Marjorie engulfed Ethel with a hug. “Have a safe drive home.”
I slid into the car with sweaty palms and a stomach churning with anxiety as Marjorie walked swiftly toward the house. I’d just promised to give her the information she so desperately needed in seven days. What possessed me to make such an outrageous claim?
I didn’t care about the money. I had exactly one week to prove I was worth the trust she’d placed in me—or be finished as an investigator.
Denise Devine is a USA Today bestselling author who has had a passion for books since the second grade when she discovered Little House on the Prairie by Laura Ingalls Wilder. She wrote her first book, a mystery, at age thirteen and has been writing ever since. She loves all animals, especially dogs, cats, and horses, and they often find their way into her books.She has written twenty-two books, including books in the Beach Brides series, Moonshine Madness series, and West Loon Bay series. Her books have hit the Top 100 Bestseller list on Amazon and she has been listed on Amazon’s Top 100 Authors.
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Thank you so much for hosting my book. I appreciate it!
ReplyDeletethis cover definitely makes me want to read this book!
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