Crime consultant Scott Drayco is in the middle of a thorny case in Washington, D.C. involving murder victims who were all wheelchair-bound. Then, out of the blue, he gets a worried call from a friend on Virginia's Eastern Shore about an attack on an innocent disabled girl.
Drayco discovers almost everyone believes the girl's attack was an accident. But he begins to suspect otherwise when he crosses paths with a badly disfigured man and the man's enigmatic Goth son, as well as one of the smoothest and most dangerous figures Drayco has encountered in his career.
Drayco soon finds himself swimming in a sea of lies, secrets, and seduction and has to keep his head above water if he hopes to keep the girl safe and stop a murderer from killing again.
Genre: FICTION / Mystery & Detective / General
This book has sold approximately 3,500 copies in the past year, and I have also given away another 1,000 or so via time-limited book promotions.
Best ranking in Amazon store to date:
Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #8,077 Paid in Kindle Store
#63 in Books > Mystery, Thriller & Suspense > Mystery > Private Investigators
#63 in Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Mystery, Thriller & Suspense > Mystery > Private Investigators
#131 in Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Literature & Fiction > Literary Fiction > Mystery, Thriller & Suspense
Scott Drayco leaned into the Brahms Rhapsody, the piano keys like daggers of silk beneath his fingers. The music washed over him with sounds akin to barbed, red amaranth flowers—a fitting soundtrack for the graphic crime scene photos lying on the piano.
He dug into the thirty-second-note scales. Maybe a little too hard, opening a cut on his index finger. With his eyes half-closed, he could blissfully ignore the streak of blood on the keyboard.
What he couldn’t ignore was the cellphone shattering the music’s spell. He grabbed the phone and almost hurled it across the room. Not that it was the phone’s fault—it was July, the air conditioner was broken, and despite being stripped to his boxers, he was drenched in sweat.
It wasn’t a call from the client he was expecting. Or anything at all he was expecting, for that matter. Maida Jepson’s voice on the other end was minus its usual robin-like chirp as she pleaded, “I hate to bother you Scott. But I’m convinced someone tried to hurt a friend of ours. A twelve-year-old girl in a wheelchair. Her mother is beside herself with worry. Sheriff Sailor is busy working another case, and besides—he thinks it was just an accident.”
Then, a slight hesitation as she added, “Can you come?”
Sailor was a thorough and compassionate lawman, and Drayco was inclined to believe his opinion. Yet, though Drayco had only known Maida for a few months, that was long enough to know she didn’t indulge in flights of fancy.
“I can’t promise anything, Maida. I’ll be happy to do some checking and get back to you.”
“Thank God. I knew we could count on you.” The frown lines disappeared from her voice.
