Exercise Is Murder: A classic whodunit mystery with more twists and turns than a roller coaster. (Smiley and McBlythe Mystery Series Book 1) by Bruce Hammack

Exercise Is Murder: A classic whodunit mystery with more twists and turns than a roller coaster. (Smiley and McBlythe Mystery Series Book 1) by Bruce Hammack

Author:Bruce Hammack [Hammack, Bruce & Hammack, Bruce]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jubilee Publishing
Published: 2019-05-30T22:00:00+00:00


***

The ride back to Steve’s townhome passed in absolute silence. Once there Steve slumped in his recliner, took off his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes. What could he be thinking? The term pater familial was as foreign to him as the dead language it came from. As for children, Steve and Maggie had settled that a long time ago. Careers and each other formed their small, but complete, circle of family. Now he found himself the unwilling, blind, stand-in father of a dysfunctional home. The middle-aged mother wished to be a vivacious, rich aristocrat who could turn back the clock and be thirty years of age in perpetuity. The son, good-natured but gullible, took risks and would likely hock the family jewels to bet on a three-legged horse in the Kentucky Derby. To top it off, there was the miserable, out-of-place daughter, twenty years old, bordering on an eating disorder and aptly described as “weird.” What was Steve to do with this trio? Assuming, of course, that one or any combination of the three, didn’t kill the original pater familial.

The air in the apartment hung thick and stale. Or, maybe it was it her imagination. Either way, Heather needed to get out and think–and if she did, how much more did Steve need to ponder his plight? “I’m going to grab some lunch and find a quiet place under a tree. Can I fix you something before I go?”

“No.”

“Do you want me to bring you anything?”

“Yeah, pick me up a one-way plane ticket to the Bahamas.”

Heather left Pat Beerhalter in a pile on her bedroom floor and down the drain of her bathroom sink. A tank top, black leggings, tennis shoes and a ponytail completed her reincarnation into Heather McBlythe. She pulled a lightweight hoodie over her head as she walked to the door. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

Steve grunted as she closed the door.

Her thoughts spun as she drove the blue and white cruiser to a neighborhood restaurant, grabbed a southwestern salad to-go and headed to a nearby park. The pine tree she settled under provided exactly what she desired: shade, quiet, and a gentle sway of the branches far above her head. Peace in the midst of an unexpected squall.

The salad looked awesome but proved to be a hot disappointment. The house dressing should have come with a warning label. Vinegar, cilantro and chunks of unnamed peppers from the Marquis de Sade’s garden cauterized Heather’s mouth. She set the plastic box aside and sipped a bottle of water.

As the burn subsided, a plan began to take shape. Money would be required. Lots of money, and it needed to come almost immediately. Steve didn’t have that kind of money, and it was certainly more than the seventy-six dollars in her purse. But there was someone who had all she would need. She reached for her phone and selected a name she hadn’t called in almost a year. A man’s voice answered.

“Father…Heather. I have a business proposition for you.



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