“How is Kathy Simmons' mother doing? Is she recovering from the beating?”
“She's better. Knowing that we’ve got the people who killed her daughter—and the goods on the people who were behind her brother’s molestation— has gone a long way toward helping her heal, as you can imagine.” He gestured toward the waiter. In a flash, the man came back with a bottle of champagne.
“Really?” I said. “Champagne? Wow.”
“We could have never closed this case without your help. If you hadn’t figured out Kathy’s password, we couldn’t have pieced together a motive. If you hadn’t visited LaTisha, we would have never found the plastic bag used to suffocate Kathy. So here’s to you, Cara,” and he raised his glass high. The tiny bubbles floated up in the golden liquid, like happy thoughts rising to the sky.
“Salute.” I lifted my glass. We let the rims tap each other lightly.
He smiled at me. “Here’s to our first date."
I took one sip before glancing at my vibrating phone. It was a message from MJ: Come quickly. Sid is in the hospital.
--The End—
Cara Mia’s story continues in
Second Chance at Hope: Book #3 in the Second Chance Series
Bonus Excerpt from
SECOND CHANCE AT HOPE
CHAPTER 1
Last week in January
Jupiter Island, Florida
~Cara Mia~
Morning dawned gray and indistinct on Jupiter Island. Locking my front door behind me and gathering my Chihuahua’s leash in my hand, I pointed us toward the narrow road that led to the Hobe Sound Beach Park. The gloomy weather disappointed me, but Jack didn’t mind at all. Waving his tiny tail, Jack threw his weight (all two pounds of it!) against the leash so that he leaned away from me as he scampered down the street.
The fog sent a chill through me, but Jack’s merry attitude brought a smile to my face. Okay, so this gloomy weather wasn’t what I’d expected of sunny Florida. This was the best time of day for walking on the beach, right before the fisherman dragged their gear to the water’s edge. Long before the sunbathers would spread their colorful towels and pop the tops on their soft drinks. This quiet island would reveal its secrets to me while I watched the sun pop up on the horizon like a ripe orange being squeezed out of a grocery bag.
Jack and I turned left where Bridge Road dead-ended at Hobe Sound Park. The gloom muted the colors of larger-than-life sculptures of sea turtles, a vivid reminder of our fragile ecosystem. A sign on a plinth reminded visitors of the turtles’ lifecycle. I noted that nesting season was a full two months away. I tightened my grip on Jack’s leash, rather than let him roam the dunes. Raccoons, possums, and cane toads could all pose a danger to my small companion.
The wood of the boardwalk was old and bounced under my well-worn tennis shoes. Since finding a stray fishhook in the sand, I’ve learned that being barefoot can be hazardous. Especially early in the morning, when you can’t see clearly. At the crest of the boardwalk, I paused, taking in the magnificent view. An overcast sky touched the concrete-colored water, creating a seamless, endless ribbon of dull nothingness. A wave of vertigo made me dizzy as the band of dull, lifeless color stretched out in front of me, arched up and over me. One word popped into my head: Dead.
A shiver ran down my spine. I was being silly. Jack sensed my reticence. Rearing up on his back legs, he plonked his front paws against my calf muscles, urging me onward.
Determined to master my emotions, I shook my head and got my bearings. On either side of the boardwalk, sea oats rustled in the breeze. Their golden serrated heads created a spot of metallic color against the glum vista. Impatiently, Jack yanked me forward. Following his lead, my feet touched the wet sand. The pungent smell of seaweed greeted me. Last night’s storm had left a wrack line dark with dense mounds of Sargasso. Jack lunged to the right, sniffing eagerly at a knot of sand sporting a halo of wet feathers.
“Get away from that,” I urged him.
A handful of seabirds died in every storm. Riding the winds exhausted them. Eventually, the high winds would fling their bodies into the surf so that they littered the beach the next day. While Jack fought me to sniff and explore, adorable sandpipers ignored the carnage. Their tiny legs moved double-time as they raced to pick up yummy delicacies before the crustaceans burrowed too deeply in the sand, making their escape.
“Knock it off, buddy,” I chided Jack as he fought the leash and pulled me forward. He lunged toward a huge clump of seaweed, shaped like a person.
So I wasn’t alone on the beach this morning! Someone had gotten here before me. Jack tugged relentlessly toward the sand sculpture. Thanks to our walks, I’d discovered that beachgoers showed endless creativity. I’d found messages in bottles, seashells spelling out love notes, sandcastles of all sizes, and now someone had crafted a mermaid, half in and half out of the water.
“Huh. Somebody must have been working in the dark,” I muttered. “Weird.”
In the distance, the roar of an ATV signaled that the beach patrol had started its day, making the rounds. When the wind changed, a whiff of diesel made my nose prickle even though the ATV was a football field away.
I had rescued Jack after a truck driver tossed him out the window of his pickup. Not surprisingly, the little dog gets spooked by loud engines. But this morning, he didn’t notice the ATV. Despite the noise of the approaching vehicle, Jack dragged me toward the lumps in the sand. He pitched his entire weight against the leash as he strained toward the mermaid. Closer inspection showed a remarkably realistic creature with dark brown hair, presumably a clump of seaweed. Her arms were thrown up over her head. Her face was turned toward the water. The advancing tide nipped at the tip of her tail.
Jack’s toenails threw up sand as he struggled to get closer to her.
“Come on, buddy. If you get wet, you’ll need a bath.” I tugged at his leash.
The put-put-put of the ATV’s motor roared louder and louder. The driver’s faded blue cap bobbed up and down, appearing and disappearing, as the vehicle climbed low hills and descended into dips. Usually our beach is perfectly flat, but last night’s rough tides had caused escarpments, jagged chunks carved from the friable surface. As the ATV got closer, Jack started to get nervous. He backed away from the water’s edge, growling at the mermaid.
“Come on,” I urged him. “It’s just a pile of sand, Jack! There’s nothing to be scared of!”
He froze in his tracks.
I nearly tripped over my own feet, rather than step on him. An ear-piercing howl splintered the morning quiet.
“Buddy, it’s okay!” I bent low to scoop Jack into my arms. My eyes followed the direction of his stare.
The mermaid lifted her head and groaned.
To Be Continued… Second Chance at Hope -- https://amzn.to/2CUsuG9
You’ll want to read all the Second Chance books in order!
The Second Chance Series Books
Second Chance at Love--https://amzn.to/2SAmG9Q
Second Chance at Life -- https://amzn.to/2C2es3I
Second Chance at Hope -- https://amzn.to/2CUsuG9
Second Chance at Faith—Now available for pre-order! (March 18, 2019 release date) https://www.amazon.com/Second-Chance-Faith-Book-ebook/dp/B07MBWPP8T/
Second Chance Short Stories
Cara Mia Delgatto and the Haunted Flamingo-- https://amzn.to/2Eg1nXh
Cara Mia Delgatto and the Thanksgiving Gift—
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Cara Mia Delgatto Short Story Collection
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Kiki and Cara Mia Christmas Story Collection
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A Note from the Author…
I’m a native Floridian who has lived on the Treasure Coast of Florida for nearly ten years now. My hope is that I can transport you here through my work. If you can feel the sand between your toes, I’ve done my job. For images of the Treasure Coast, visit my Pinterest page: http://www.Pinterest.com/
joannaslan.
Book #4 in this series (Second Chance at Faith) will be out early 2019. Second Chance at Faith will visit another Treasure Coast legend—and the origin of the Treasure Coast’s nickname—the famous Queen’s Jewels that were scattered up and down our shores when the 1715 Fleet (the Spanish Armada) sank.
Meanwhile, if you see a woman walking the beach and picking up seashells, come on over and say hello.
I have chosen to write books about women, who are creative, passionate, and spunky. If you like Cara Mia and her friends, you’ll probably like my Kiki Lowenstein Mystery Series. If you like courageous women and history, check out my series featuring Jane Eyre as an amateur sleuth. You’ll find a complete list of my works on my author page, http://tinyurl.com/JoannaSlan.
A FREE Gift Just for You!
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When you email me, we’ll also add you to my mailing list at no charge. I run a lot of fun contests and giveaways. My newsletter shares fun tips and features discounted books and free reads.
Thanks so much for your interest!
Hugs and kisses,
Joanna
About Zentangle
The Zentangle® Method is an easy-to-learn, relaxing, and fun way to create beautiful images by drawing structured patterns. It was created by Rick Roberts and Maria Thomas. "Zentangle" is a registered trademark of Zentangle, Inc. Learn more at zentangle.com.
The Kiki Lowenstein Mystery Series
Every scrapbook tells a story. Memories of friends, family and … murder? You’ll want to read the Kiki Lowenstein books in order:
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8.Group, Photo, Grave -- https://amzn.to/2OP9V96
9.Killer, Paper, Cut - https://amzn.to/2zii2Gh
10.Handmade, Holiday, Homicide -- https://amzn.to/2S8rBib
11.Shotgun, Wedding, Bells -- https://amzn.to/2OT0lSs
12.Glue, Baby, Gone -- https://amzn.to/2Ts16Wn
13. Fatal, Family, Album -- https://amzn.to/2qWux5S
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Mistakes? I’ve Made a Few –
Okay, more than a few. We’ve had this book proofread repeatedly, but you’ll probably find something we’ve missed. Or something I’ve gotten COMPLETELY wrong. If so, send an email to my assistant, Sally Lippert. She’ll come up with a suitable way to thank you—and to break the bad news to me. Sally’s email is [email protected].
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Did You Like the Book?
You have tremendous power as a reader these days. Your opinion really counts, thanks to the magic of algorithms. (The math is beyond me, but the concept isn’t.) Your support makes all the difference to me. Here are a few ways you can help me:
1.Leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads.
2.Buy a copy of this book for a friend.
3.Discuss this book at a book club event. (Let me know and I’ll do what I can to provide questions, bookmarks, and even “show up” by phone or Skype.)
4.Ask your local library to carry my books.
5.Mention this book on Facebook.
6.“Like” my page on Facebook.
Thank you in advance!
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Talk to Me!
I love hearing from readers. I learn so much from you! So let me know what you think of my characters, my books, and whatever’s on your mind. You can email me at [email protected]. Or you can contact my assistant, Sally Lippert, at [email protected]
Let’s Get Social—
List of Joanna’s Works -- http://tinyurl.com/JoannaSlan
Joanna’s Website -- http://www.JoannaSlan.com
Facebook -- http://www.Facebook.com/JoannaCampbellSlan
Blog -- http://www.JoannaSlan.blogspot.com
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Goodreads -- https://www.goodreads.com/JoannaCampbellSlan
Amazon Author Page – http://tinyurl.com/JoannaSlan
Pinterest -- https://www.pinterest.com/joannaslan/
Mistakes? I’ve Made a Few –
Okay, more than a few. We’ve had this book proofread repeatedly, but you’ll probably find something we’ve missed. Or something I’ve gotten COMPLETELY wrong. If so, send an email to my assistant, Sally Lippert. She’ll come up with a suitable way to thank you—and to break the bad news to me. Sally’s email is [email protected].
~*~
Did You Like the Book?
You have tremendous power as a reader these days. Your opinion really counts, thanks to the magic of algorithms. (The math is beyond me, but the concept isn’t.) Your support makes all the difference to me. Here are a few ways you can help me:
1.Leave a review on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or Goodreads.
2.Buy a copy of this book for a friend.
3.Discuss this book at a book club event. (Let me know and I’ll do what I can to provide questions, bookmarks, and even “show up” by phone or Skype.)
4.Ask your local library to carry my books.
5.Mention this book on Facebook.
6.“Like” my page on Facebook.
Thank you in advance!
~*~
Second Chance at Life Page 33