“We got here about seven—that would be an hour ago. Most of the tables were full, and a steady stream of people flowed in and out. The wait-staff hustled.”
She hesitated a moment, letting the images of people sift through her mind like musical notes. “A baseball team with blue shirts that read, “Vancouver Hitters,” sat near the back.” She pointed towards the kitchen. “They’d be in their early twenties. They had a burping contest.”
“Burping,” Peterson muttered as he scribbled.
“About half an hour ago, eight women in their thirties ushered in a lady dressed like a Steam Punk heroine with red-shadowed eyes and a funky black hat. I figured it was a stagette. They sat near the front and made the bride-to-be hand out condoms to every man who passed. When the screaming started, they were the first group to scurry out the entrance.”
He nodded, as if red-eyed Victorian vixens were a common sight. Maybe they were in his life.
“A couple in their eighties wearing matching blue jogging suits sat at the table between us and the man . . .” She wanted to talk about the victim with respect. “. . .the man with his face . . . in his dinner. They were there when we came and left just before it happened.”
Peterson’s pen raced across his notepad. His mouth twitched, as if he needed to say something, but wouldn’t let himself.
“The man sat alone. On the far side of him, about twelve people celebrated a birthday. I know that, because every so often a person in their group would stand up and give a toast. Some slurred. There was lots of happy chatter.”
When she stopped talking he looked up from his notepad. “And?”
“Inspector, I don’t know what else I can tell you. It seemed like a normal night in Gastown.” If that makes any sense.
The oldest part of Vancouver, Gastown got its name from Gassy Jack the wild frontier man who opened the first saloon on the edge of the Canadian wilderness. Over the years, it had become well known as a place for both debauchery and commerce. Now considered the hippest neighborhood in the city, the hood had transformed itself. The old warehouses had been converted to upscale condos, nightclubs and art studios. Meanwhile the homeless wandered the streets outside. Gastown had changed its outward appearance over the last two centuries more times than a busy whore at midnight, but some things never changed. It was, and always had been, a place where the word “normal” didn’t apply.
He tapped his pen on his paper. “Gastown—normal.”
Maggy ran a hand through her hair. “I didn’t see anything unusual. No one stuck out.”
Peterson twisted his mouth, as if he had difficulty digesting something she’d said.
She smiled as best she could. “We sat over there.” She pointed. “Where Joe is now, two tables away from the . . ..um . . .victim. Do you wanna know what I ate?”
“Just get to the murder, Ms. Malone.” His eyes held steady and his voice flattened out like concrete on a prairie highway, pushing her forward to a place with no horizon, a place she didn’t want to go.
“It happened behind me.” Her voice caught on her last word. It had been easy to talk about the crowd. Easy to make jokes about their behavior. She cleared her throat. Violent death would never be easy for her to talk about. “First, the big group sang ‘“Happy Birthday,”’ loud enough and out of tune enough, to make you want to cover your ears. Then the lights went out.” She swallowed.
“Then I heard a shot . . .then another. Two, close together. The whole room shook with the sound. It rattled everything, even my bones. A blast of warm air hit the back of my neck and then the lights kicked in.” Maggy crossed her arms across her chest and took a deep breath, seeing the whole event again in her head. She slowed down.
“A woman screamed. A loud, break-the-windows screech like in the old black-and-white movies. Then another screamed and another. By the time I turned around, people were huddled around the man’s table. I couldn’t see a thing.”
His eyes narrowed. “But you saw something.”
She swallowed. “Two waitresses got people to back away from the table. The man’s head, or what was left of it, lay in the middle of his plate of spaghetti. Bright red Bolognese sauce had splattered all over the table and floor.”
“What happened next?”
“Rick, the manager, ran in and checked his pulse. It all happened so quickly…” She tried to remember every detail. “A couple of the waiters came in and did the same. They shook their heads. Then I heard the sirens. Then you came.”
Peterson kept writing in his notebook, his body tensing with every new piece of information she fed him about the murder. She didn’t bother trying to read his face. She knew from experience he kept his emotions hidden behind his shiny badge. He’d tell her only what he wanted her to know, and that would be a sterilized version of the truth. A cop version.
While the good inspector had intriguing complexities, she didn’t want to explore them. He brought back too many bad memories. How the hell did he end up in her life again? Not to mention another murder? She’d put the past behind her and refocused on her career.
Anticipating his next move with dread, her fingers fidgeted. She clasped them together.
“You have any connection to the deceased?” he asked.
And there it was. She swallowed. No point denying the truth. He’d find out later. “Inspector, I . . .”
When she didn’t finish her sentence, the pupils of his eyes hardened into small pin-point dots.
She shook hair out of her face again and glanced quickly in Joe’s direction. “Don’t know him personally, but . . .”
He lifted his left eyebrow.
“I’m pretty sure he’s the guy they call the Naked Alderman.” And her best friend Mei Chang’s lover, but she didn’t say that. She exhaled slowly. “Kyler Ravensworth.”
An unwanted tremble entered her voice. Dead bodies did that to her, and this one was too close to home. His death would break Mei’s heart. Next her limbs would tremble uncontrollably. She’d been this close to murder before and didn’t want to go back.
Peterson thumped his pencil on his notepad. “The guy who wanted a community garden on every block?”
She nodded. “Yeah. He got called ‘the naked alderman’ because he always took part in the annual naked ride in town. He liked to say he had nothing to hide.” She remembered laughing the first time she heard him say that, but it didn’t seem so funny now. The image of him on the local TV news flickered through her mind: young, healthy and virile, a handsome civic minded man in the prime of his life.
Peterson nodded and jotted more notes.
Flashes lit up the room sporadically as a police officer took pictures of the scene. They reflected off the ornate Tiffany lamp that hung from the ceiling with the name Tuscany’s on it, creating a macabre kaleidoscope of colored lights. While the detective wrote, she took in the changing scene.
In the opposite corner of the room sat the ghost table set for two, vacant as always. According to local legend, the ghost liked his space. To sit at his table would bring bad luck. Scores of stories about what happened to people when they dared to sit at the table had circulated ever since the restaurant opened fifty years ago. A cold shudder snaked up her spine. She didn’t need to be thinking about ghosts now.
The trattoria’s saucy mix of relics from the past and present usually charmed her, but tonight, with the flashing lights, and spilled spaghetti sauce, it made her blood run cold.
The ambulance attendants waited while the medical examiner studied the body. After a second look at the deceased, Maggy turned back to Peterson. Her knees weakened. The last dead man she’d seen . . . No. She didn’t want to think about that. Nausea rose in her stomach.
“Take a deep breath in and let it out slowly,” Peterson said. His attention shifted to someone behind her.
“Can I take Joe home now?” she asked. The old man continued to swirl his wine and sniff the edge of the glass.
“Does he know anything more than you?”
/>
“Don’t think so.” That was sort of true.
“I know where to reach you. Thank you for your help, Ms. Malone.” He said this as he brushed past her to join a group of policemen in uniform. He gave her no good bye, just a nod and a stirring of air, scented with his cologne, as he passed.
Maggy walked over to Joe. “Ready to go?”
“Sure, Maggy.” His thin lips spread into a soft smile that slid straight into her heart. Hmmm. She couldn’t let him win with his damned charm. There had to be a way to get the stubborn old goat to take his meds.
“I’ll get you back to the Black Cat,” he said. Logan would be angry at her for being gone so long. No doubt about that. She’d left him to do all the work at the bar.
Maggy waited as Joe slowly rose. He leaned on his white cane to steady himself. She knew better than to offer assistance. He’d get all huffy. Once he stood, she looped her arm in his.
Outside, the fresh, salty breeze off the strait mingled with the sweet smell of cherry blossoms. She inhaled the freshness of the spring evening and squeezed Joe’s thin arm.
He leaned his head towards hers. “Did you tell him what the ghost said?”
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Also by Jo-Ann Carson
The Mata Hari Series
#1 – Covert Danger
#2 – Born of Magic
#3 – Ancient Danger
#4 – Lovin’Danger
Vancouver Blues Series
#1 – Black Cat Blues
#2 – Ain’t Misbehavin’
Let me tell you about my other books.
Covert Danger
The Mata Hari Suspense Series, Book #1
A single woman — A double life
High fashion model, Sadie Stewart, is a dedicated undercover CIA agent used to getting her man. But this time she’s chasing a power-hungry, international arms dealer stealing ancient Egyptian amulets. Brilliant, ruthless and slightly wacko, he’s a hard catch. She’s willing to risk everything to stop him, but the handsome Sebastian Wilde, who looks like a modern Viking, keeps getting in her way. Her independence is shaken as he stirs feelings in her that she thought only existed in fairy tales. Can she put their attraction aside and get the job done?
Covert Danger is the first book in the Mata Hari series. If you like Indiana Jones and Covert Affairs, you’ll love this award-winning book, which combines all of their best traits in a fast-paced, captivating and sexy, romantic suspense.
Buy Covert Danger today, if you want sexy adventure and love in your life. Only 99 cents.
by Jo-Ann Carson
Smart, Sexy, Suspense
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* * *
Ancient Danger
Mystery, Adventure, Love
During a costume ball in a Venetian palace, an assassin tries to kill Sadie Stewart, the international model with a double life. When she contacts her old boss at the CIA for help, she is swept back into the world of espionage and agrees to do one last mission. Arms-dealer Bakari al-Sharif is planning to steal an ancient, Egyptian scarab imbued with magic from Highclere castle. Because Sadie is the only person who has ever gotten close to the man and lived, the CIA want her to stop him.
Her six-month anniversary with her lover Sebastian Wilde in Venice is ruined. He doesn’t want her to go back to the life of a spy, but Sadie has no choice. The arms-dealer needs to be stopped and she wants to find the people behind the assassination attempt on her life.
Ancient Danger is the second book in the Mata Hari series, which can be read as a stand alone. If you like Indiana Jones and Covert Affairs, you’ll love this book, which combines all of their best traits in a a fast-paced captivating and sexy, romantic suspense.
Buy Ancient Danger today, if you want adventure and romance in your life.
by Jo-Ann Carson
Smart, Sexy, Suspens
Buy link
* * *
Vancouver Blues Suspense Series
Ain’t Misbehavin (first chapter included here)
Ain’t Misbehavin’
When sultry, blues singer, Maggy Malone, has dinner with a friend at an Italian restaurant; a man sitting a few feet away is shot. Known as the Naked Alderman, the victim is a controversial politician who wants Vancouver to be known as the greenest city in the world. He’s also the lover of Maggy’s best friend. Despite his noble ideals, his head ends up in the pasta.
Although Maggy doesn’t realize it, she gets a good look at the shooter before he steals into the night.
The last thing she wants to do is chase another murderer. She’s been working hard to keep the Black Cat Blues Bar afloat and sort out her life, which is complicated by two men, and acts of sabotage at her dock community on Granville Island.
But when the body count rises, she decides to catch the killer.
A naked alderman, a haunted trattoria and a love that can’t be denied. . .
Ain’t Misbehavin’
A Romantic-Suspense set in the Pacific Northwest.
Vancouver Blues Suspense Series, Book 2
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* * *
About Jo-Ann Carson
Jo-Ann Carson has lived most of her life on islands off the west coast of Canada, surrounded by snow covered mountains, lush rain forests and pristine beaches.
Growing up, she dreamed of traveling the world like James Bond, searching for relics like Indiana Jones, and finding true love, so it’s no surprise that in her Mata Hari Series she combines elements of adventure, danger and steamy romance.
In her Vancouver Blues Series she slides into the realm of Urban Noir and explores the dark side of the city. These books are mainstream suspense with strong romantic elements and are very-Vancouver.
Bibliography for Brother XII
Books:
MacIsaac, Ron, Clark, Don, and Lillard, Charles. The Devil of Decourcy Island: The Brother XII. Porcepic Books. 1989
Peterson, Jan. Harbour City Nanaimo in Transition, 1920-1267. Heritage House. 2006.
Internet:
Pearl, Luke. “Will the Real Madame Zee Please Rap Three Times.” http://www.harpercollins.ca/author/authorExtra.aspx?authorID=60000868&isbn13=9780002005135&displayType=bookinterview, August 18, 2012
Ruttan, Stephen. Greater Victoria Library, “Brother XII.” http://gvpl.ca/using-the-library/our-collection/local-history/tales-from-the-vault/brother-xii/, August 19, 2012
Randsco Scott and Rachel. “Blue Heron Park to Pirate’s Cove Marine Park on DeCourcy Island.” http://randsco.com/?p=604&more=1&c=1, August 19, 2012
Wagner Thomas, “Brother 12, aka Edward Arthur Wilson.” http://www3.telus.net/cowbay/island/brother12/index.html, Aug. 13, 2012.
Wikipedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brother_XII, Aug. 13, 2012.
Suggested Book Club Questions
Why is it important that Maggy sings the blues?
Why Vancouver? What is it about the setting on Granville Island that enhances the story?
Does the use of the legend of Brother XII deepen the story for you, or does it make it seem silly, like a pirate’s treasure hunt?
What do you think of Maggy?
Which main male character do you like best? Logan or Hunter? Why?
What do you think of the murderer?
Which secondary character do you find the most intriguing and why? (Mei, Edgar, Jimmy, Smokey, Peterson)
What were the main themes running through the book and how well do you think the author handled them? (i.e., ideas about life/death, quest for gold, love)
Did the climax work for you? (You can take this however you like, but I will let you know that romance writers refer to the climax of the story as the black moment, because they like to have lots of climaxes
If you could rewrite the ending what would you have happen?
For writers: Find an example of where the visceral description of an event worked, and find an example of where more could be put in.
For
writers: How many hooks are there in the first paragraph and what kind are they?
What do you imagine will happen with the cast of characters in the second book?
Black Cat Blues Page 24