Beyond Murder

Brenda Sue

Description

Two new literary heroines have arrived! "Beyond Murder" is a contemporary, commercial, fiction thriller, romantic suspense, mystery novel. Suzanne Morse, once an abused and frightened housewife, builds a fresh life for herself and her children. She acquires a new career and outlook to make her existence meaningful. Nancy Tremblay, Suzanne's partner in business and crime fighting..

Sujets

• Thriller

Informations

• Publié par: First Edition Design Publishing
• Date de parution: 10 octobre 2013
• Nombre de lectures: 3
• EAN13: 9781622873388
• Langue: English

Extrait

BEYOND MURDER
Brenda Sue


First Edition Design Publishing
BEYOND MURDER
A METAMORPHOSIS NOVEL

By
Brenda Sue

First Edition Design Publishing
Beyond Murder
Copyright ©2013 Brenda Sue
ISBN 978-1622873-39-5 PRINT
ISBN 978-1622873-40-1 HARDCOVER
ISBN 978-1622-873-38-8 EBOOK

LCCN 2013942879

July 2013

Published and Distributed by
First Edition Design Publishing, Inc.
P.O. Box 20217, Sarasota, FL 34276-3217
www.firsteditiondesignpublishing.com



Cover Design Deborah E Gordon

ALL R I G H T S R E S E R V E D. No p a r t o f t h i s b oo k pub li ca t i o n m a y b e r e p r o du ce d, s t o r e d i n a r e t r i e v a l s y s t e m , o r t r a n s mit t e d i n a ny f o r m o r by a ny m e a ns ─ e l e c t r o n i c , m e c h a n i c a l , p h o t o - c o p y , r ec o r d i n g, or a ny o t h e r ─ e x ce pt b r i e f qu ot a t i o n i n r e v i e w s , w i t h o ut t h e p r i o r p e r mi ss i on o f t h e a u t h o r or publisher .
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

There are many people who I wish to thank and if I inadvertently forget to mention them, I’m sorry.

Harvey, what can I say? You have always been my inspiration and without you the character of Stephen could never have come to life. To my girlfriend, Barbara, thank you for reading “Beyond Murder” and correcting the many spelling mistakes and the countless hours of your intent reading. You are truly patient and a blessing. Barbara’s mother, dear Catherine, who I admired, was my inspiration for Mrs. Walsh.

To my many friends and cousins who encouraged me to not give up my dream, thank you. Cousins Wayne, Bruce, Beverly; (of a shalom), Barbara, Wendy and Jordan, my life as I grew up with you will always be in my heart and soul. How can one forget their routes; Dorchester and Quincy will always remain with me.

My parents and grandparents will always be remembered with love and fondness. Thank you for giving me life, direction and insight in the old world ways and the new world.

To my children and grandchildren, I hope that what I taught you will be lessons you’ll never forget. “Treat others as you’d want them to treat you” should remain with you, always.

No story can ever be a story without my beloved animals. Simka, you’ll always be the little queen and Boston, the black kitten who wormed his way into our lives and heart.

To my new friends Dave and Debbie from First Edition, thank you for your help and encouragement.

To my fans that enjoy reading the escapades of Suzanne, Nancy and their friends; thank you for your loyalty. Without you my creativity and imagination would be left inside my being without having a way to express my desires for a better world .
CHAPTER ONE

Free will is given to every human being. If we wish to incline ourselves toward goodness and righteousness, we are free to do so, and if we wish to incline ourselves toward evil, we are also free to do that. From Scripture (Genesis 3. 22) we learn that the human species, with its knowledge of good and evil, is unique among all earth’s creatures. Of our own accord, by our own faculty of intelligence and understanding, we can distinguish between good and evil, doing as we choose. Nothing holds us back from making this choice between good and evil---the power is in our hands.
MAIMONIDES, 12TH CENTURY

BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS. October 1993. 10:30 p. m.
The long, silver, barrel reflected off the bright light, shimmering, in the darkness. The gloved hand held the revolver deftly. With conviction, the man in the shadows pulled the trigger and smoke rose from the pistol. The abrupt intensity of the shot being fired propelled the beautiful woman against the brick wall. She gasped for breath as she tried to fight for air. The crimson blood now stained over her once white blouse. Sirens in the distance cautioned him to leave, but he had to be sure she was dead. Ignoring his instinct, he knelt down by the woman as she laid on the cold concrete. He lifted her limp arm and could feel a slight pulse. Standing over her, he let out a deep sigh and skillfully fired the remaining bullets into her head.
“If I can't have you no one will. I loved you," he cried desperately as he took her flaccid body and cradled it in his arms. Crying openly he knew he had to leave. He looked one last time at the woman he adored and cried, "I would have done anything for you. Why did you hurt me?" He started to run but the quiet, dark alleyway was ablaze with the headlights of the patrol cars. A policeman shouted for him to drop the gun. There was no place for him to run, it was too late. In a desperate attempt to scare the officer, he aimed the empty gun in his direction. The police officer didn’t hesitate to shoot and with one loud final bullet the man fell to the ground.
All was quiet except for the soft sobs from the people in the audience. The theater lights were suddenly turned on, indicating the play was over. Suzanne sighed and caught her breath, as she expertly wiped the tears from her face.
The cast members came back on stage, one person, then two to three at a time. The clapping was steady. The leading actor appeared and the crowd roared, with most of the spectators rising to their feet. Madaline made her appearance and the audience was tumultuous. At the second curtain call the rest of the patrons stood, and Madaline was presented with two dozen red roses. Madaline threw kisses to everyone in attendance. With the fourth and final curtain call, which seemed to last five minutes, she gave a long, low bow to everyone and hurried back stage.
Suzanne and her party were among the pleased and elated audience that came to their feet and earnestly applauded. The critics were overjoyed as the new play, "Beyond Murder" was in its second week and was the best play of the season.
Back stage, with members of the cast, Suzanne and her group mingled easily with the crowd. Madaline spotted her dear friend and the people who had become the family members that she and her son, Kyle, had wanted and needed years ago.
Madaline warmly greeted her cherished friends. Affectionately hugging Suzanne she whispered, "Let's get out of here soon.” With a fixed smile she continued to mingle amongst the small collection of the selected few people who felt privileged to be there. She waved to strangers who wanted recognition from this famous actress.
Making her way back to Suzanne she stopped, feigning exhaustion. Whispering in Suzanne’s ear, “Come on, we’ll go back to my suite, kick off our shoes and kibbitz. When you get there, call for room service. It won’t take me long to get this gunk off my face and change into street clothes. We'll have our own party. How does that sound?"
Suzanne said, “Sounds great. I can hardly wait to catch up on what’s been happening since we last talked.”
Madaline was one of her best friends. Holding Madaline at arm’s length Suzanne thought that she was beautiful as ever. With all her ups and downs in life, raising a child, practically by herself, the heartbreak of losing the love of her life, the divorces, and of course the natural progression of aging, it was a wonder she still looked radiant.
“I’ll call the front desk to tell them you and your party will be arriving. Here’s the key to my room.”
“That’s a good idea, I wouldn’t like being thrown out nor have the police arrest us,” Suzanne laughed as she hugged her friend good-by.
Madaline went back to the dressing room and got the peace and quiet she craved. She quickly and adeptly removed the heavy theatrical make-up and got up to change into her street clothes. As she headed for the closet to get her jeans and sweater she inadvertently saw a vase filled with a dozen black roses on the night table beside the couch. Madaline looked twice, not believing what she saw. A chill went through her body, she shuddered. ‘Who could be so mean to send me these? If they think it’s funny, it’s not. ’From her extensive reading she knew that black roses represented death. As much as Madaline tried to think who would play this distasteful hoax, her mind went blank. She quickly threw the entire vase and flowers in the bathrooms basket and called for the back stage attendant to empty the entire contents of the waste basket in the dumpster. On her way out of the dressing room she took one last look where the black roses had been and a feeling of dread overcame her. She closed her eyes tightly, willing the sighting had not happened. The door closed behind her and goose bumps erupted over her entire body.
When going thru the lobby she asked the concierge if he could bring her a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies. Nodding his head he answered, “Of course Madame. The pastry chef left for the evening but he made sure that the pastries you like were made and would meet with your satisfaction.” He went to the kitchen and presented Madaline with a large plate of the warm, fresh, chocolate chip cookies. “I hope Ms. Madaline will be happy with these?”
“I always am, thank the chef for me,” Madaline said.
By the time Madaline returned to her suite, she wanted to forget about the terrible incident that occurred. She tried to stop thinking about the flowers and how upset she was. Putting on a happy face she entered the room and tried getting into a party mood.
Madaline went to the tall, glass bar and put down the plate of cookies. She sat down and polished off her Reuben. “Suzanne; thanks for remembering to order my favorite sandwich. What can I get you from the bar?” Snapping her fingers Madaline sarcastically said, “Everybody, don’t rush me at once.”
“I normally would have my zinfandel, but I have to drive and you know if I have more than one I’ll be in trouble. Suzanne went in back of the bar and poured herself a generous glass of White Zinfandel. She found that the slightly sweet drink went down her throat smoothly. Everyone was in a good mood. They laughed at the stories being told by ever