for what you’re doing here.”
“All due respect, I don’t think so, ma’am,” the Sheriff said.
“Do you have any idea what my life has been like the past couple of years? All the money we’ve risked with the network. I told Ricardo we should have gotten a divorce long ago, but we’ve been trying to hang on until the show goes into syndication. The cable rights could be worth millions, or we could lose everything we’ve worked for. Don’t you people understand?”
The Sheriff seemed unmoved as he turned with another set of handcuffs for Maria Andros. Apparently, he wasn’t an investor.
“Don’t you dare say a word, Maria,” Mrs. Clayton tried to lunge at the younger woman, who seemed too traumatized to care. “And I’m not saying anything else either. I want to talk to my lawyer.”
The Sheriff finished reading both of them their rights.
I made eye contact with Toronto, who was examining Sylvia’s rifle. “Private eye lackeys, huh?”
He shook his head and smiled.
18
The next day Toronto, Nicole, and I buried Jazzman in the high clearing. It was a private ceremony, just the three of us beneath a pale blue sky.
A lot still needed sorting out after conversations at the jail the night before with Maria Andros and with Gabriel Wylie, who’d been rousted out of bed and brought in for questioning by one of the Sheriff’s investigators. Turned out Sylvia liked to play both sides of the tracks. In addition to her erstwhile romantic advances toward Maria she had a boyfriend on the side who owned one of the local trucking companies. In an attempt to keep up her overly lavish lifestyle and fund the growth of her husband’s TV ventures, they’d been double dumping waste water as Wylie had alleged, falsifying records. Whether Dr. Clayton knowingly participated in the scheme was unclear, but the Feds were being called in to help sort it all out.
I think Jazzman would have liked the spot Toronto picked out for his final resting place. A couple of yards from the edge of a cliff formed by a huge rock outcropping, where the sun slanted gold against the grass and the long view to the valley below would afford the falcon peace and security.
When finished, we descended to the fire road again. Toronto said he’d give Nicole a ride back to Charlottesville where he’d help her look in on our own birds and run a couple of other errands. A light breeze blew across the forest canopy as I pulled open the door to my pickup.
“Thanks for coming, Frank.”
“At least we found out what happened.”
“I blame myself.”
“I know.”
He and I shook hands and he gave me a bear hug. I hugged Nicole as well and waved as they saw me off.
Passing down the dirt road, I couldn’t help but glance back up the mountain to the top of the cliff where we’d laid the peregrine to rest. I like to think that in some way, beyond our understanding, Jazzman still soars there on that precipice. Maybe the spirit that lived in him lives somewhere in us, too.
The road is long.
I would have five more hours of thinking to the beach.
END
BONUS BOOK EXCERPT FROM
THE BLUE HALLELUJAH
THE FORTHCOMING STANDALONE SUSPENSE THRILLER
BY ANDY STRAKA
Detective Jerry Strickland’s wife Rebecca went to prison after being convicted of killing one of his suspects in a murder case. There she eventually succumbed to cancer. Now, as the end of his own life nears, it’s time for the elderly Jerry to tell what really happened with Rebecca and why. But when his eight-year-old granddaughter Marnee goes missing the tale takes a new turn. Jerry rushes to help in the search and discovers that not only may Marnee be in peril, her disappearance may point to a piece of Rebecca’s story that has been missing all along.
Prologue
All afternoon the old man had been sweltering in the steamy woods, watching and waiting. All afternoon with a pit in his stomach, sweat dripping from his brow onto his dark clothing, flies and mosquitoes biting and
“All due respect, I don’t think so, ma’am,” the Sheriff said.
“Do you have any idea what my life has been like the past couple of years? All the money we’ve risked with the network. I told Ricardo we should have gotten a divorce long ago, but we’ve been trying to hang on until the show goes into syndication. The cable rights could be worth millions, or we could lose everything we’ve worked for. Don’t you people understand?”
The Sheriff seemed unmoved as he turned with another set of handcuffs for Maria Andros. Apparently, he wasn’t an investor.
“Don’t you dare say a word, Maria,” Mrs. Clayton tried to lunge at the younger woman, who seemed too traumatized to care. “And I’m not saying anything else either. I want to talk to my lawyer.”
The Sheriff finished reading both of them their rights.
I made eye contact with Toronto, who was examining Sylvia’s rifle. “Private eye lackeys, huh?”
He shook his head and smiled.
18
The next day Toronto, Nicole, and I buried Jazzman in the high clearing. It was a private ceremony, just the three of us beneath a pale blue sky.
A lot still needed sorting out after conversations at the jail the night before with Maria Andros and with Gabriel Wylie, who’d been rousted out of bed and brought in for questioning by one of the Sheriff’s investigators. Turned out Sylvia liked to play both sides of the tracks. In addition to her erstwhile romantic advances toward Maria she had a boyfriend on the side who owned one of the local trucking companies. In an attempt to keep up her overly lavish lifestyle and fund the growth of her husband’s TV ventures, they’d been double dumping waste water as Wylie had alleged, falsifying records. Whether Dr. Clayton knowingly participated in the scheme was unclear, but the Feds were being called in to help sort it all out.
I think Jazzman would have liked the spot Toronto picked out for his final resting place. A couple of yards from the edge of a cliff formed by a huge rock outcropping, where the sun slanted gold against the grass and the long view to the valley below would afford the falcon peace and security.
When finished, we descended to the fire road again. Toronto said he’d give Nicole a ride back to Charlottesville where he’d help her look in on our own birds and run a couple of other errands. A light breeze blew across the forest canopy as I pulled open the door to my pickup.
“Thanks for coming, Frank.”
“At least we found out what happened.”
“I blame myself.”
“I know.”
He and I shook hands and he gave me a bear hug. I hugged Nicole as well and waved as they saw me off.
Passing down the dirt road, I couldn’t help but glance back up the mountain to the top of the cliff where we’d laid the peregrine to rest. I like to think that in some way, beyond our understanding, Jazzman still soars there on that precipice. Maybe the spirit that lived in him lives somewhere in us, too.
The road is long.
I would have five more hours of thinking to the beach.
END
BONUS BOOK EXCERPT FROM
THE BLUE HALLELUJAH
THE FORTHCOMING STANDALONE SUSPENSE THRILLER
BY ANDY STRAKA
Detective Jerry Strickland’s wife Rebecca went to prison after being convicted of killing one of his suspects in a murder case. There she eventually succumbed to cancer. Now, as the end of his own life nears, it’s time for the elderly Jerry to tell what really happened with Rebecca and why. But when his eight-year-old granddaughter Marnee goes missing the tale takes a new turn. Jerry rushes to help in the search and discovers that not only may Marnee be in peril, her disappearance may point to a piece of Rebecca’s story that has been missing all along.
Prologue
All afternoon the old man had been sweltering in the steamy woods, watching and waiting. All afternoon with a pit in his stomach, sweat dripping from his brow onto his dark clothing, flies and mosquitoes biting and
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