PENITENCE: An Andi Comstock Supernatural Mystery, Book 2 (95,893 words)

by Ann Simas

  “I’ll drink to that,” Jack said. He picked up the wine bottle and filled his and Father Riley’s glasses.

  When he reached Andi’s glass, she shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to tarnish my halo,” she said, amused.

  Jack and the priest both laughed.

  “I have an idea,” Andi said, sipping on her shake. “Let’s play a variation of the game of Clue.”

  They studied her with puzzled expressions.

  “I suspect…Father Riley O’Shaughnessy, rector at St. Gemma Galgani Church, of plotting to set up an audience for Andi Comstock…with the Pope.”

  Father Riley belted out a howl of laughter. “By all that’s holy, Andi, I never gave it a thought, but now that you mention it….”

  Author Note

  To my knowledge, I am not acquainted with any hitmen. However, since one of the main characters in Penitence has hired a hitman, I needed to find out something about them. Imagine my surprise when I discovered an article on the FBI website that not only described a case involving a hitman, but listed the website he’d been hired from.

  For the longest time, I didn’t try to log on to that URL (just in case I’m under surveillance by the NSA because of the types of heinous crimes and dastardly weapons I am constantly Googling), but finally, I did. All that nail-biting had been for nothing. I should have known the HitmanFor Hire.net page would be down since the FBI had mentioned its existence. No sense encouraging people who had nefarious intentions, right?

  Here’s the lesson: If you want to kill off someone, do it in a book. It’s much safer and a lot less stressful (I’m sure) than the real thing. Plus, it won’t involve any prison time.

  Now a word about rabbits. A tip of the hat to a few authors who have created fictional rabbits that I use to name Andi’s game-app chapters: Lewis Carroll, Thornton Burgess, James Howe, Mary Chase, and Felix Salten. Not all the rabbit names I use hail from books or plays, but you’ll have to read more in the Andi Comstock series to learn what some of those are.

  As always, I would like to thank my editor, Nancy Jankow, for her support and dedication in helping me ensure that Penitence resulted in the best book it could possibly be. Thanks to my husband Frank, as well. He’s always my first reader and keeps me in line on many of the technical and mechanical aspects included in the story.

  I accept full responsibility for any errors or misinterpretation of the facts gleaned during my research. However, because this book possesses a supernatural plot, it’s entirely possible, that any errors it contains may be the handiwork of someone passing on from this world to the next. Just sayin’.

  Find out where Andi’s story begins…

  available now, HOLY SMOKE, book 1

  in the Andi Comstock Supernatural Mystery Series

  by Ann Simas.

  Page forward for a preview.

  HOLY SMOKE

  From the first day Andrea Comstock started her new job as a developer writing game apps at Orion’s Belt, she got a whiff of smoke.

  The scent was neither pleasant, nor unpleasant, but Andi couldn’t identify it, regardless. It didn’t smell like cigarette smoke, or electrical wiring gone bad, or the aftermath of someone’s burned toast.

  It vaguely reminded her of burnt hair, like when the intake on her blow dryer had sucked in a few strands too many, or maybe of scorched meat on the barbeque, but even that was not quite right. One thing she was sure of, she had never smelled anything like it before, but it was definitely smoke.

  She had one weird moment as she sniffed the air—the sound of amused laughter filled her head. It was so clear, so contagious, Andi laughed, too. Then she got up to look outside her office, which fed into a small common area with casual seating, to see what her co-workers found so funny. No one was in sight.

  Puzzling over what her nose could not deny, Andi went back to her desk. The smoky smell soon dissipated and with it, the remnants of the mysterious laughter. She immersed herself in the project, working title “Bunny Hop,” that her boss Brent Hathaway had assigned earlier. He had given her free rein and instructions to make it innovative and fun.

  Andi considered herself perfectly suited to developing software. She had the ability to block out external influences, to intuit problems and solve them, and to be creative—all positive assets in the fine art of writing game apps. It didn’t hurt that she’d already written and published three independent game apps, Beetle Bounce, Jump Frog, Mixed-Up Merlin. The problem was, she had no budget for marketing, so while they were bringing a modest amount every month, it was not enough to live on.

  Her job at Orion’s Belt also necessitated that she work with a team, which was fine by her. She might be able to immerse herself in writing code for hours on end, but she was no social recluse. She liked having interaction with other people. No hibernating in her parents’ basement, doing nothing but game-playing for her. Someday, she hoped to meet Mr. Right, get married and have kids with him, and own a house with him. And don’t forget a dog in the yard along with the swing set.

  But for now, she expected to work overtime some days. Being single and having no significant other to focus on left her free to work long days if necessary. Besides, the extra dollars on her paycheck would help build a nice savings account.

  Even though she’d only been on the job for a few hours, she loved it already. The co-workers she’d met so far were friendly, she had a small office of her own rather than an open cubicle in the midst of dozens of others, her boss was a dream supervisor, and the work promised to be challenging, fun, and interesting.

  Andi soon forgot about smoke and laughter.

  She hadn’t been at her desk for more than an hour on her second day before she smelled the smoke again. When she went to the break room to fill her coffee cup, she found several co-workers chatting at a small table in the corner. She asked, “Do you know what that smoke smell is and where it comes from?”

  Lacey frowned. “Is someone smoking in the building? This is a smoke-free workplace!”

  “Smoke, what smoke?” Ted began to snuffle loudly. “I don’t smell any smoke.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t walk by someone smoking outside and the odor is hanging on your clothes?” Susan asked.

  Andi sniffed the air. “Can’t any of you smell it? It’s quite prominent today.”

  The others sniffed, as well, but no one, including two other co-workers who passed through the room, said they could smell anything unusual, including smoke.

  Andi returned to her office. She sat down at the double-monitored computer, baffled. How could she be the only one with a nose sensitive enough to smell smoke?

  Andi, it’s just you. No one else can smell it. Lucky girl!

  Startled, Andi got up and approached her open door. No one was in sight in any direction and all the other doors were closed. What the heck? She gnawed on her lower lip for a few moments, then shrugged and went back to her desk. The smoky scent had all but disappeared and she soon became engrossed again in her assignment.

  By noon, satisfied with her progress and inexplicably feeling rejuvenated, even though she’d been sitting for almost three hours straight, she saved her work. Because the app had already been tentatively named Bunny Hop by someone at Orion’s Belt, she called the first game chapter she was rewriting Flopsy, after one of the rabbits in a favorite childhood storybook.

  She scanned her emailbox and the network calendar that notified her of meetings and other events before she retrieved her purse from the bottom desk drawer. The scent of smoke returned, and as she started to pull her door closed, someone spoke to her. Indistinguishable as to gender, the person clearly said, What a beautiful day for a walk, Andi. That’s one of the many things I’m going to miss. Enjoy!

  Andi faltered, releasing the doorknob as if it were red-hot metal. She spun around, looking for the source of the voice. No one was there.

  What in the world was going on? Was the smoke an after-effect of some kind of hallucinogenic drug someone had smoked o
utside the building? Was it somehow seeping into her office, and only hers? Was a co-worker playing a trick on her?

  Andi pondered the smoke and the voices as she made her way a few blocks north to Trattoria d’Italia. Inside, she took a small table by the window and ordered a sausage grinder. Though she smelled only delicious Italian cooking aromas, she couldn’t shake off thoughts of what now numbered three unusual experiences at work.

  She put the back of her hand against her forehead, trying to determine if she had a fever.

  An hour later, situated at her desk again, she pulled up Flopsy and got back to writing code. Not ten minutes later, the scent of smoke filled the air, followed immediately by, Congratulations on your new job, Andi! You have a lovely office. Andi gasped, but this time, she didn’t jump up to see who was speaking outside her office door. Instead, she collapsed against the back of her chair with her mouth hanging open.

  Twenty minutes elapsed before her fingers stopped trembling. Andi wiped her sweaty palms against her denim skirt and forced herself to concentrate on the game app.

  The following day, she smelled smoke just after arriving at work. The vocal accompaniment was, Your job looks like fun, Andi, but remember, there’s more to life than work. On Friday, the smoke arrived late morning with a voice that said, Have a wonderful weekend, Andi. I loved spending mine in the garden.

  Andi wasn’t much of a drinker, but after five days of smoke-and-voices, she seriously considered having a liquid lunch at the nearest bar, which was less than two blocks away.

  The voices didn’t really creep her out. They were friendly and wished her well, but why did she hear them? Were they caused by something in her environment or did she have some weirdness going on inside the old cranium? Did people develop schizophrenia when they were almost thirty years old? She hadn’t experienced any headaches, but what if she had a brain tumor?

  The thought caused Andi’s stomach to clench painfully, even as goose bumps raced up her arms. Brain tumors could cause dementia-type symptoms. She’d witnessed it in one of her grandfathers. He’d been in incredible pain and completely nonsensical at the end. She didn’t want to end up like that.

  That’s not what this is, she told herself. She was smart, with an above-average IQ. She was not nuts. She did not have cancer. Genetics were not rearing their ugly chromosomes inside her! There was a rational explanation for this…this phenomenon.

  That last conjured up thoughts of an older movie she’d watched with her sister not long ago called Phenomenon. John Travolta had seemingly developed instant genius status following a flash of light. Eventually, his doctor discovered that he had not just a brain tumor, but a massive brain tumor. Sucks. Andi closed her eyes and murmured a prayer. “Please God, no tumors, brain or otherwise, okay? Thank you.”

  Once outside, she abandoned the idea of imbibing her noon meal and decided to do a little sleuthing instead. She circled the L-shaped Orion’s Belt complex, which ended up being a challenge. A two-story high cinderblock wall, which her office window faced, ran the length of the back of the building. At each end, gates had been installed to keep out vagrants. Nonetheless, she peered through both chain-link gates, trying to determine if anyone had scaled the fence and taken up residence in the six-foot width of landscaping. Someone with a crack pipe or a camp stove or whatever paraphernalia drug users needed to make-and-partake. Nothing.

  At that point, she realized there was no longer a trace of smoke scent in the air, either. Perplexed and frustrated, she gave the metal fence post a little kick to express her displeasure at a failed mission.

  On her way to Soup Station, Andi sidetracked into the office supply store to purchase a small journal with a pen attached to it.

  After a hearty bowl of chicken noodle soup and two fresh-baked wheat rolls, she walked several blocks out of her way to get back to Orion’s Belt. She perused, without really seeing, the delightful window displays of the shops she passed. Her mind was busy re-examining the last five days.

  In the small courtyard at the inside corner of the Orion’s Belt building, she sat on a bench beneath a shade tree and opened the journal. On the first lined page, she recorded each smoke-and-voice event, beginning with the laughter she’d heard on Monday. Having a photographic memory had often been a curse in her life, but today, she considered it a blessing as she as she put down everything exactly as she’d heard it in her head since the first time she smelled the smoke.

  Once back at her desk, she worked for two hours straight before taking a short break to retrieve one of her Diet Cokes from the fridge in the break room. Easing into her chair again, she got a whiff of the now-familiar smoke. Her boss walked in on her second deep inhale and asked how things were going.

  “Great,” Andi replied, hoping he’d missed the slight elevation that almost made her one-word comment a question. “Flopsy’s almost finished and I should have my written evaluation ready for you first thing Monday morning.”

  “Flopsy?” Brent asked.

  Andi laughed. “Sorry, I always name my projects. Since this game app is named Bunny Hop, I’ll name the chapters after famous rabbits.”

  Brent grinned. “I like the way you think, Andi! You seem to have taken to this job like a duck to water. Or should I say, a rabbit to the carrot patch?”

  Andi grinned back. “I love everything about it.” Mostly, she added silently.

  “Any problems or concerns, or any questions?” Brent asked.

  She debated whether or not to mention the mostly part. “Maybe one question, and really, it’s not about work.”

  Her boss tilted his head slightly. “Okay.”

  “Do you smell the smoke?”

  Brent frowned. “Smoke? Like cigarette smoke? No one’s supposed to be smoking in the building.”

  “No…no, not from cigarettes.” She sniffed the air. “I don’t smell it constantly, but I smell it right now.” She shrugged, embarrassed, and tried to make a joke of it. “Since you don’t smell it, I must be having olfactory malfunction.”

  Brent’s expression registered concern. “If it bothers you—”

  “Oh, no, it doesn’t. It’s just…odd. No one but me seems to smell it.” And that’s enough on that subject, she chided in silence, afraid Brent would think he’d hired a loony and she could kiss her job goodbye before she even completed her three-month probationary period.

  Brent seemed uncertain. “Well, if you’re sure….” He crossed his arms over his chest and raised a hand to rub his bearded chin as his gaze darted around her small office. “If it becomes a problem, though let me know, okay? Unfortunately, we had a leaky roof during the rainy season, and maybe what you actually smell is mold. We can have an air test done, maybe isolate the problem.”

  “I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” Andi assured him.

  “But you will let me know if it gets worse?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good. Don’t want you going somewhere else because our building stinks.” His face screwed up like he’d been eating lemons.

  Andi smiled and took it as an encouraging sign that Brent was happy with her work so far. A permanent position loomed on her horizon, which was a good thing, because she was more than ready to move out of her studio and into a two-bedroom apartment. “Thanks. And don’t worry. I really do love this job. I can’t imagine going anywhere else.”

  “See you Monday morning then. I’ll put you down for ten, if that works for you.”

  She nodded.

  Brent gave her a thumbs-up and left the office.

  Andi turned back to her keyboard, sipping from her soda can.

  What a lovely man. He has a beautiful wife and three darling children. Someday you’ll find a good man like that, Andi, and then your life will be complete.

  Andi spewed Diet Coke across both her monitors.

  . . .

  HOLY SMOKE

  available now at:

  Amazon.com

  Also available in paperback from:

  Am
azon.com

  CreateSpace.com

  annsimas.com

  About the Author

  Ann Simas lives in Oregon, but she is a Colorado girl at heart, having grown up in the Rocky Mountains. An avid word-lover since childhood, she penned her first fiction “book” in high school. She particularly likes to write a mix of mystery-thriller-suspense, with a love story and paranormal elements. Her books are available in both digital and print format, with autographing and free shipping directly from her website for paperback books.

  An award-winning watercolorist and a budding photographer, Ann also enjoys needlework and gardening in her spare time. She is her family’s “genealogist” and has been blessed with the opportunity to conduct first-hand research in Italy for both her writing and her family tree. The genealogy research from century’s old documents, written in Italian, has been a supreme but gratifying and exciting challenge for her.

  Contact the author via:

  Magic Moon Press

  POB 41634

  Eugene, OR 97404-0386

  Or visit:

  annsimas.com

  and

  Ann Simas, Author

  on Facebook

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