My first case wasn’t about crime at all. It was about love. I mean, technically, a crime had been committed, but… well, maybe I’d better just tell it.
I was sixteen in 1985 and lived three houses down from sweet old Miss Evans, who dressed up every Friday night, even if she was only going as far as her front porch.
I flashed my badge at the officer standing guard and ducked under the yellow tape.
“I’m glad you’re here, Inspector Belden.” Officer Fuzzbee’s nose twitched as he hopped over and mopped his brow with a crinkled handkerchief. “I haven’t seen such a gruesome scene since the Heartsville V-day slaughter. Not a pretty sight, I can assure you.”
I remember how the rain poured when we boarded our flight from Virginia two weeks ago. A typical, gloomy, East Coast April day. Penny and I both have seasonal depression, so when the opportunity arose to take a ten-years-overdue honeymoon to sunny Djerba Island for two weeks, we didn’t hesitate.
I wish we had.
In Vermont, we call the spring thaw Mud Season, a time of year that gives new meaning to the word battleground, for it’s necessary to battle the ground simply to walk. Either you struggle while the muck sucks at your shoes and even skirts if they aren’t hitched up a bit, or you tumble when it’s too slick, which causes the unwary much irritation.
Read it now
Cherry blossoms drifted like snowflakes over the princess, reminding Sendai of that fateful night. He shook a petal off his helmet. An imperial guard on duty shouldn’t let his thoughts wander. Total vigilance, not sweet distraction.
The prince, on the bough above them, shook down more blossoms. Seventeen winters may have brought the princess an entrancing grace, but her twin still acted the child.
There are echoes in the valley, and they speak my name.
Emereth. Emereth.
Desperate and muffled like a man with his face in a pillow, using his last breath—for me. It is carried on a low, whistling wind that aches through tall cliffs on either side of this place. It rustles through wildflowers, collecting pollen and doubts.
Just a spoiled rich girl! Not a serious archeologist! Was that all they thought of me? If they prohibited my inclusion on this expedition, then I would find it first! They couldn’t ignore my experience and commitment if I stood before them holding the relic!
The university library contained what I needed.
“You’re about to see wonders none of your friends back home will believe.” The old sailor wiped his sweaty brow with a stained cloth. “Y-e-p.”
He dragged the word out to three distinct syllables, and Daryn gritted his teeth. That dingy, smelly codger danced daily on what nerves remained in Daryn’s control…
The Great Wall of China. Hadrian’s Wall. Their builders weren’t just trying to keep the enemy out. They were safeguarding what was within. Secrets of the night. Joy. Laughter.
Only a fool would leave the safety of his walled city to risk exposure and capture.
Which is why I should never have come to
The doorman of the Marriott Marquis drew the doors, revealing a grand crystal chandelier. I smoothed imaginary wrinkles from my royal blue cocktail dress—a far cry from my shabby barista’s apron.
I tucked a lock of my long, dark hair behind one ear. Just breathe. My black heels clicked unevenly across the threshold
Straightening her shoulders, Lani stepped into the chilly palace hallway. One last banquet. She could do this.
She remembered Lantern Festivals of old, giggling with her brothers as they stuffed themselves with sweet rice-ball soup and ran from one glittering event to the next. Now, after two weeks of festivities, she felt as empty
Well, this relic hunt sucked.
“Hurry up, Andy!” Louisa berated. “I don’t want to end up Swiss cheese because you stopped to read every footnote! I can’t hold this position forever!” She balanced on one foot, hands raised, struggling not to fall off the small pedestal and trigger whatever booby trap awaited the unworthy.
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