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    Jennifer
    Jennifer
    Jennifer
    Ebook83 pages1 hour

    Jennifer

    By Wayne Greenough

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    About this ebook

    Jennifer has never phoned me until now. She said come at once and be careful about being followed. I broke the speed limit through the city’s usual traffic problem. The sound of her voice over my Ameche said she was in trouble. God, what was going to happen to her next? Her parents were murdered, and she was brutally raped. How could I protect her from further harm? How?

    At Jennifer’s I found out things about her I didn’t know how to correct. She wished for revenge against men who raped and murdered women and I feared she meant to carry out that revenge in a deadly way. As for me, I’m plastered all over the Internet. Ten-thousand dollar reward for Thanet Blake, dead!

    LanguageEnglish
    PublishereXtasy Books Inc
    Release dateMar 13, 2013
    ISBN9781771114561
    Jennifer

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      Book preview

      Jennifer - Wayne Greenough

      If the police can’t help you, see Thanet Blake, Private Detective.

      Jennifer has never phoned me until now. She said come at once and be careful about being followed. I broke the speed limit through the city’s usual traffic problem. The sound of her voice over my Ameche said she was in trouble. God, what was going to happen to her next? Her parents were murdered, and she was brutally raped. How could I protect her from further harm? How?

      At Jennifer’s I found out things about her I didn’t know how to correct. She wished for revenge against men who raped and murdered women and I feared she meant to carry out that revenge in a deadly way. As for me, I’m plastered all over the Internet. Ten-thousand dollar reward for Thanet Blake, dead!

      The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

      Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

      This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

      Jennifer

      Copyright © 2013 Wayne Greenough

      ISBN: 978-1-77111-456-1

      Cover art by Carmen Waters

      All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

      Published by Devine Destinies

      An imprint of eXtasy Books

      Look for us online at:

      www.devinedestinies.com

      Smashwords Edition

      Jennifer

      The Private Detective Murders 5

      By

      Wayne Greenough

      To June, the wife who puts up with my craziness

      I wish to thank Lora Anne Rawley for her medical advice. Thanks, Lora Anne.

      Chapter One

      My office window needs cleaning. What the hell? I can still study the streets below if I stoop down a little and lean to my right. At the moment, I’m watching the city’s taxpayers running in every direction. Most are dressed in summer clothing to fit the coming season. Some are using the daily newspaper as a substitute umbrella to keep from being pelted silly by the sudden cloudburst of pea-sized hailstones that’s rapidly covering everything with a white coat of slippery misery. Shoving my window open to catch some of the white stuff, so I can have a little ice with my rye, I hear people screaming, using descriptive adjectives, and hollering, What in the hell happened to the nice weather of last week?

      I’m Thanet Arthur Blake, Private Detective, shamus, dick, gumshoe, peeper, snooper, plus the usual variety of unprintable words used upon me when people see me coming. I’m wondering the same thing about the weather. We’re two days away from changing the calendar to April and I wish somebody would inform Mother Nature as to why, at this time of the year, we are not having our normal weather? Enough, old lady!

      As usual, for several weeks, my sleaze business has been earning zero money. My Landlord walked into my office a few moments ago and immediately began mumbling words of landlord wisdom from around a cigar stub that never left the right side of his mouth, nor was it ever lit.

      Blake, I am seriously considering tossing you out of your dirty office window. You owe me for three months rent. Pay me now, before I enjoy turning you into an artistic design on the sidewalk.

      That would really hurt. I’m on the third floor, I told him. "Hey, husbands are still goofing off and playing handsy with somebody that looks and smells better than their wives, and wives are bedding down with tall lanky guys that have no belly hanging over their belts. Give me a few more days. Somebody is bound to come through my door with a sleaze problem only I can solve."

      He gave me a Bengal Tiger frown before spitting on my rug.

      I say nuts to you and that never ending high-falootin’ bull shit you’re always dishing out to me. Who do you think you’re trying to shit, Blake? Don’t you realize I’m a guy you can’t pass through your bowels? Several days from now, you’ll be telling me the same old verbal malarkey about your lousy business and how your wallet is flatter than a cow plaster.

      He sighed and farted. His own melodious sound effects soured his face into a lemon-sucking gargoyle expression.

      I’m tired on my ass, exhausted from changing your door sign. Do you know how often you’ve been a private dickhead in the two years I’ve been stupid enough to let you rent this office?

      Yeah, about once a month, I said with a cringe on my face.

      That’s right. Once a month, which means I should charge you for the paint and my time. A few more days you say? All right, just to show you that I am an easy to get along with landlord, I’ll grant upon your still-living-and-still-in–one-piece carcass a full week’s time to pay me up in full. He glanced at his wristwatch. It’s now three o’ clock. In one hundred sixty-eight hours and to the exact second, if I see no dough coming out of your wallet and landing in my hand, you’re outa here. You’re a deadbeat moocher and I won’t have you stinking up my building unless you’re able to throw some of that green government legal tender in my direction every month.

      The cigar that never leaves his mouth left it with one cough and one spit. It flopped noiselessly onto my office’s rug to be ground into brown

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