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Off The Wall
Off The Wall
Off The Wall
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Off The Wall

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Spending the holidays with Mallory Pope has given Detective Lieutenant TJ Locke a new outlook on life. He’s let go of the past and looks forward to his future. However, his perfect idyll with Mallory is interrupted on the night of the Winter Festival Fundraiser, when a reveler is found lying on the rocks under the seawall.

Mrs. Bunny Harrowdale, one of the wealthiest women in Nannaquonset, had few enemies. However, strange things had been happening on her estate and she swore the place was haunted.

When TJ begins his investigation, he has no reason to believe in ghosts. Harrowdale’s children are convinced their late father is trying to stop their mother’s estate from allowing Re-HOME of Nannaquonset to inherit twenty million dollars. TJ is convinced the son and daughter are suspects one and two. A nephew from out-of-town—number three.

Mallory can speak to the dead, but it seems the ghost of Bunny’s husband Denton Harrowdale isn’t talking. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and when the photographers upload their files from the event—TJ thinks the killer is standing right next to Bunny.

Problem is it’s Denton Harrowdale.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateOct 17, 2017
ISBN9781370560707
Off The Wall
Author

Logan Hendricks

Logan Hendricks lived in Narragansett, Rhode Island for many years. Various professions included carpenter, dock worker, and DPW employee. Now he writes murder mysteries.

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    Book preview

    Off The Wall - Logan Hendricks

    Logan Hendricks

    Spending the holidays with Mallory Pope has given Detective Lieutenant TJ Locke a new outlook on life. He’s let go of the past and looks forward to his future. However, his perfect idyll with Mallory is interrupted on the night of the Winter Festival Fundraiser, when Bunny Harrowdale is found lying on the rocks under the seawall. One of the wealthiest women in Nannaquonset, Bunny had few enemies. However, strange things had been happening on her estate and she swore the place was haunted.

    When TJ begins his investigation, he has no reason to believe in ghosts. TJ is convinced the son and daughter are suspects one and two. A nephew from out-of-town—number three. Harrowdale’s children are convinced their late father was trying to contest Bunny’s new will from the grave. A dog shelter is to inherit twenty million dollars.

    Mallory can speak to the dead, but it seems the ghost of Bunny’s husband, Denton Harrowdale, isn’t talking. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and when TJ uploads the photographers’ pictures from the night of the event, TJ thinks the killer is standing right next to Bunny.

    Problem is—it’s Denton Harrowdale.

    Shore Road Publishing

    PO Box 333

    Bethania, NC 27010

    U.S.A.

    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

    Copyright © 2017 Shore Road Publishing

    All rights reserved

    The reproduction or utilization of this work in whole in part, in any form by any print, electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

    Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of any copyrighted materials in any form. To do so is a violation of the author’s rights.

    Cover photograph The Towers, Narragansett, Rhode Island

    Cover design by Logan Hendricks © 2017

    1FF91217

    Chapter One

    Detective Lieutenant TJ Locke stood on the edge of the dance floor with his date, Mallory Pope. He was surprised when Captain Lipinski and his wife, Lucy, strolled in to the party. He hadn’t expected to see anyone he knew, let alone work with. The Winter Festival Fundraising effort to help Re-HOME of Nannaquonset was a gala event. Photographers were everywhere. Pictures of this party would appear in various newspapers around the state with a spread in the February issue of Providence Woman Monthly magazine. The quartet was very good and played mellow jazz. Luckily, Mallory was so busy greeting her fan-friends, TJ hadn’t been able to ask her to dance. But his moment of truth was coming. Soon.

    He needed another drink to bolster his courage.

    Mallory walked up to TJ with a wide smile on her face. I’m absolutely starving. Have they brought out the food yet?

    TJ pointed to the other side of the long banquet hall. There at the front.

    Mallory nodded yes.

    TJ placed his hand on Mallory’s shoulder and led her through the crowd. At the long buffet, Mallory placed a few items on a small plate. TJ went to the bar and ordered another Dewar’s on the rocks. With a twist, he said to the bartender.

    TJ leaned against the edge of the bar and watched the people on the dance floor. All glittery and fancy. Throwing money to the homeless pet population to make them feel better about being rich. Re-HOME. Responsible Ethical Humane Ownership: Mutts for Everyone. TJ wondered what five grand would get a dog these days.

    Aside from Carl Lipinski, TJ knew no one else at the party, which was fine. He hated the pretentious nature of these kinds of events. He’d rather wash cars as a fundraiser. However, TJ had never been to the Towers before. An iconic landmark hotel since the 1880’s, fire ravaged it twice and it had fallen on hard times in the thirties. Sometime in the late nineties, the Historical Society found the money to fix it up and it was placed on the Register of National Historic Places. Now, it belonged to the Chamber of Commerce and the town of Nannaquonset, Rhode Island. Used as a wedding venue in the summer and events like this in the winter, it brought much added revenue to the town.

    Mallory stood at the end of the buffet, talking to a tall blond woman with a horse face. TJ tried to catch Mallory’s eye. After this drink and a twirl around the dance floor, he was ready to go home.

    "Is there a doctor in the house? someone shouted. We need a doctor."

    TJ stood three feet from the man in the entryway and listened to the room grow quiet.

    Carl Lipinski walked toward him. Why do you need a doctor?

    The guy said, Bunny Harrowdale is lying on the rocks at the bottom of the seawall.

    I’m a doctor. A pretty brunette in a dark blue velvet gown approached. She nodded to TJ. Her eyes were oddly familiar.

    TJ returned the smile, but still had no idea who she was. She winked at him and slid a pair of glasses on her nose. Marion? The department forensics analyst ran to the coat-check room.

    Lipinski nodded to TJ. Let’s go. On the way downstairs, he asked, Who found her?

    The guy said, I don’t know. One of the men who’s with her on the beach, I guess. He just yelled at me to get a doctor.

    Outside, the wind bit through TJ’s suit like vultures’ claws.

    Did you call the police, EMTs? Lipinski hurried over the sidewalk onto the rocky beachhead past the dune fence. Blue and red lights appeared on the corner with no sirens.

    TJ turned his collar. Investigating a murder on the beach in the dark with high tide coming in didn’t really appeal to him. He scrambled over the wet rocks. Beach sand clung to his brand new two-hundred-dollar shoes that Mallory insisted he buy. He was glad he did, they were comfortable as hell, but it was a shame he was going to ruin them.

    A man bent over Bonita Bunny Harrowdale giving her mouth to mouth. Another man in black tie squatted on the ground and held her wrist. The guy who had called for the doctor stood behind TJ.

    Is she alive? Lipinski asked.

    I don’t know. If she is, just barely, the first man said.

    Marion scrambled down the beach, and then reached down to Bunny’s neck. She has no pulse. Marion looked at TJ. What time is it?

    TJ pulled out his phone. Ten forty-two.

    The first man looked at Lipinski and burst into tears. I don’t know what we’re going to do without her.

    Who found her? Lipinski asked.

    I did, the crying man said. I came outside to have a cigarette. I saw something at the bottom of the seawall. When I realized it might be Bunny, I ran to the Towers and screamed for someone to get a doctor. Then I came down here. He wagged his head at the corpse. Poor, Bunny.

    How did you know it was Bunny Harrowdale? Lipinski asked.

    Her dress. The man stared at Bunny’s body and picked up the sleeve of her gown. It’s vintage.

    What’s your name, Lipinski asked.

    Bradford. Bradford Dilly.

    Lipinski looked at the other guy. And you are?

    John Tremont. I’m a friend of Brad’s.

    He turned to the guy who had called for the doctor. Who are you?

    Kevin Chase.

    Three EMTs struggled with equipment as they foundered over the rocks.

    All right, Lipinski said. Why don’t you guys come with me? He turned to TJ. You stay with the body.

    Yeah, TJ mumbled. He took out his phone and opened it to camera mode. He snapped several pictures. He looked at the one of the firefighters. You guys have any lights? I can’t make the crime scene if I can’t see it.

    One of the firefighters called on his mic to turn on the candles.

    Marion squatted with a penlight to peer at the dead woman. Poor Bunny.

    Did you know her? TJ asked.

    Marion moved part of Bunny’s dress. Not really. We’d met once at a fundraiser. She was very nice. Very gracious. She offered her hand to TJ.

    TJ helped her from the ground. Two giant spotlights lit the rocky shore.

    All right, TJ said. Let me get in here for a couple of minutes. He snapped pictures of the body from all angles. High tide would roll in fast and in a few hours, there would be no evidence.

    Are you finished? Marion grabbed a blanket from the stretcher and wrapped it over her coat.

    Not yet. Why don’t you go back upstairs? He waved to the technicians. Okay, fellas, lift her up.

    TJ snapped pictures of the exit wound in Bunny’s back, and then of the ground where she had lain. TJ scooped up what he could of the sand in his brand new handkerchief and stuffed it in his pocket. Something shiny caught his eye. He reached down and found a locket on a thin gold chain, the chain broken from the clasp. Hey, I need a pair of gloves. TJ called.

    Did you find something? Marion slid over the rocks in her high-heeled shoes. Here.

    Yeah. TJ slipped on the glove Marion handed him and reached for the necklace. The locket dangled from the butt end of the clasp. He slid it into the plastic baggie Marion held open for him.

    Marion handed him the bag. I’m going with the body to the hospital.

    Hey, TJ said. You think she was killed down here or pushed off the seawall?

    Marion looked at the wall. I don’t know. When you go topside, take a few shots looking down at the crime scene. Maybe I can put together a trajectory of the fall. She followed the EMTs up the beach.

    Yeah, okay. TJ snapped more photos of the crime scene, the seawall, and the tidemark.

    Ken Battersbea walked toward him, dressed like an Eskimo. TJ, what happened, man? Three patrol officers followed Battersbea.

    Bunny Harrowdale. GSW through the chest. Marion’s riding with her to the hospital. You bring tape?

    Yeah. Battersbea waved a roll of police tape.

    Do me a favor, mark off this ten foot square right there. From the green rock to where I’m standing. He waited for Battersbea and a patrol officer to finish the other side of the square. Is Carl upstairs?

    Yeah. He’s with Slonina and two patrols taking statements.

    TJ said, "Listen, I’m freezing my ass off. I took all the pictures I can down here. Marion needs a few from the street. Look around. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find a

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