Otherwise known as Day Two of the 99-cent Forever Poi promo plug. It’s JJ today.
Today, through September 11th you can get the fourth book in the Triple Threat Investigation Agency series, Forever Poi, for only 99 cents.
Cousin Reynalda (Rey) and her best friend Linda and I have been hired to solve a double-arson and murder. Someone burned down two Chinatown art galleries and left two corpses in the remains.
We’re certain the arsonist and killer the same person, but there are a cast of curious (if not dangerous) culprits. The day before the fire, Carlos Kawena, one of the gallery owners, and arson victims, had an ugly break-up with his partner, James-Henri Ossature. Given the financial issues, might James-Henri have set the galleries ablaze to collect insurance and be free of his lover? The second victim, Mary-Louise Crabtree, was a former queenpin; it’s possible that with her dicey past a former foe murdered her. If so, why was Carlos killed? In the wrong place at the wrong time?
Perhaps this snippet will pique your interest . . .
Answering the mobile phone in the office-den with a stifled yawn, I idly glanced at a metal weather-station clock that, in addition to time, advised of humidity and temperature.
“Is this the Triple Threat Investigation Agency?” a soft, prickly voice asked.
. . . Crispy? Sleep slipped from my body. “It is. It’s just shy of midnight. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, sure. Which chick’s this?”
I swallowed a retort. “The one with the honey highlights.”
“And black-flow-lava eyes?”
“One and the same. The name’s JJ.”
“JJ, right.” His soft, thin whistle was reminiscent of a White-Throated Sparrow. “I tried A and he’s not answering.”
“Maybe he turned his phone off.” A wave of weariness washed over me and I leaned into a wall. “The guy’s been working long hours.”
“Maybe, but it’s not like him not to be available.”
I forced a neutral tone. “What can I help you with, Crispy?”
“I been asking around. The fire wasn’t set by anyone in my circles.”
“You mean your firebug friends?” I asked dryly.
“Incendiary friends, if you don’t mind,” he gibed.
“For a pyro kinda guy, yeah?” The humming sound reminded me of pigeon laughter.
Crispy gave the impression there was more to him than meets the eye. “Is it possible that it could have been a pro from another island or the Mainland?”
“It was no pro. From the details I got—don’t ask where—this fire was strictly amateur. Successful, yeah, but real amateur.”
I frowned. “Could it have been a pro making it look amateurish?”
“Anything’s possible, as they say, but there’s a pride factor; hear what I’m saying?”
“I hear.” And sighed. “Will you dig a bit more?”
“Do you have any thoughts?”
“. . . I’m thinking someone really didn’t like one or both of the gallery guys and decided to make a statement.”
“What about the unknown woman who died?”
“Wrong place, wrong time.” He disconnected.
If you’d like to see how we solve this complex case, please check us out here:
NOTE: $0.99 promotions are active only in the US and UK stores.