Twelve to Murder (A Mac Faraday Mystery)

Table of Contents

Twelve

to

Murder

A Mac Faraday Mystery

By

Lauren Carr

TWELVE to MURDER: Book Information

All Rights Reserved © 2014 by Lauren Carr

Published by Acorn Book Services

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents 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.

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Published in the United States of America 

Dedication

To my son, Tristan.

So young. So smart. And so very dear to my heart.

Cast of Characters

(in order of appearance)

Janice Stillman:
Talent agent to some of the greatest child and teen stars in Hollywood until she retired. Lenny Frost was one of her biggest stars.

Austin Stillman:
Janice’s husband.

Derrick Stillman:
Janice and Austin’s son. He manages his mother’s comedy club, Lenny’s Comedy Cafe. In his youth, he was Lenny Frost’s best friend. That was a long time ago.

Mac Faraday:
Retired homicide detective. On the day his divorce became final, he inherited $270 million and an estate on Deep Creek Lake from his birth mother, Robin Spencer.

Archie Monday:
Former editor and research assistant to world-famous mystery author Robin Spencer. She is now Mac Faraday’s lady love.

Robin Spencer:
Mac Faraday’s late birth mother and world-famous mystery author. As an unwed and pregnant teenager, she gave him up for adoption. After becoming America’s queen of mystery, she found her son and made him her heir. Her ancestors founded Spencer, Maryland, located on the shore of Deep Creek Lake, a resort area in Western Maryland.

Police Chief Patrick O’Callaghan:
David’s late father. Spencer’s legendary police chief. The love of Robin Spencer’s life and Mac Faraday’s birth father.

David O’Callaghan:
Spencer police chief. Son of the late police chief, Patrick O’Callaghan. Mac Faraday’s best friend and half-brother.

Dr. Dora Washington:
Garrett County Medical Examiner.

Deputy Chief Arthur Bogart (Bogie)
: Spencer’s Deputy Police Chief. David’s godfather. Don’t let his gray hair and weathered face fool you.

Chelsea Adams:
Paralegal for Ben Fleming. First and current love of David O’Callaghan. Suffering from epilepsy, she has Molly, a service dog trained to sense and warn of seizures.

Ben Fleming:
Garrett County prosecuting attorney. He’s one of the good guys.

Gretchen:
The Stillmans’ neighbor across the cove. Possible witness. Her apple muffins are to die for.

Tonya:
Spencer Police Department Desk Sergeant. Mac is paying for her new T-Bird.

Lenny Frost:
Has-been child star and teen idol. Now he’s a second-rate stand-up comic, drug addict, and alcoholic.

Carson Drake:
Second-rate actor. At the height of Lenny’s fame, he was tasked with keeping the famous teenager happy with drugs, women, and booze. When Lenny’s star fell, so did Carson Drake, which is why they say he kidnapped the celebrity.

Gnarly:
Mac Faraday’s German shepherd. Another part of his inheritance from Robin Spencer. Gnarly used to belong to the United States Army, who refuses to talk about him.

Molly:
Chelsea’s service dog. A white German shepherd trained to sense and warn of seizures.

Zachery Harris:
Author. His book about Lenny’s kidnapping  was a big hit with lawyers specializing in lawsuits.

Sheriff Christopher Turow:
Garrett County Sheriff. Had been in office three months when Lenny took the patrons and employees at Blue Whale Pub hostage.

Deputy Parker:
Sheriff Turow’s deputy.

Edith:
Cook at the Blue Whale Pub.

Carl:
Owner of the Blue Whale Pub.

Bernie:
Elderly patron of the Blue Whale Pub. He just wants to watch the baseball double header.

Hap:
Elderly patron of the Blue Whale Pub and Bernie’s friend. They call him Hap because he is always happy.

Sela Wallace:
The mysterious woman who has some role to play in all this.

Special Agent Alex Fredericks & Special Agent Richard Saunders:
Agents with the DEA—Drug Enforcement Agency. They’re hoping their special investigation is not messed up by all this murder.

Sally Riggleman:
Comic at the Comedy Cafe. She’s funny.

Zoe Reese:
Derrick Stillman’s assistant at the Comedy Cafe.

Special Agent Sid Delaney:
FBI agent. Mac’s source for FBI info.

Special Agent Jeb Winkler:
Retired FBI agent. The Lenny Frost kidnapping ruined his career.

Jeff Ingles:
Manager of the Spencer Inn, the five-star resort owned by Mac Faraday. Mac likes to keep Ingles’ life interesting.

Officers Brewster & Fletcher:
Officers with the Spencer police department.

Epigraph

People are more what they hide than what they show.

—Unknown

Prologue

Stillman Mansion on Deep Creek Lake, Maryland

“Austin is back this year,” Olivia said in rhythm with the pace she had set for her power walk.   

Two paces behind his wife, Roland took note of the white stone mansion along the chilly lakeshore. The mansion looked closed up. All was quiet, as it was with many of the estates along the lake in the early spring. With each passing day, the quiet was giving way to the snowbirds coming in to roost at their summer homes in the resort town of Spencer, located in the corner of Deep Creek Lake in western Maryland.

The middle-aged couple walked briskly on the running trail along the lake while noting the stillness of the mansion. The only tell-tale sign of change from its winter hibernation was the yacht at the dock in the back. It had not been there the morning before.

“I wonder if Janice will be throwing her week-long Fourth of July bash with all her has-been clients this year?” Roland asked.

“I can tell you right now that I’m not going if that loser Lenny is there.” Feeling her heartbeat slowing down, she picked up her pace.

“Come on,” her husband said with a laugh, “Lenny Frost isn’t that bad. He’s really kind of funny.”

“He’s crude,” she shot at him from over her shoulder.

Roland was going to respond that he felt sorry for the least popular of Janice Stillman’s former celebrity clients when a black Porsche almost hit the couple rushing past them and turning sharply into the driveway of the white mansion.

“Do you two ever take a break?” the young man shouted at them when he threw open the door and climbed out of the sports car.

“Never,” Olivia answered with a frown at Derrick Stillman’s apparent lack of self-discipline that was displayed in the stagger in his pace and the fact that he had clearly  slept in his clothes. Judging by his disheveled appearance, she concluded he hadn’t been sleeping at all.

“Well, you can work out for me, too,” Derrick said.

“Party last night?” Roland asked.

“Date.” Derrick ran his fingers through his dark curly hair. “I was going to come in yesterday with my folks, but when I met Maddie the other day—” Clutching his stomach, he groaned.

“That must have been some date,” Olivia said in a bland tone.

“I’ve had better.” With his steps slightly off balance, he made his way to the front door.

“Come along, Roland,” Olivia ordered.

The couple continued on their way. They had only made it to the other end of the property when Derrick’s screams stopped them. The young man was running out the front door and dropped to his knees in the yard when they made it back to the driveway.

Olivia rushed over to Derrick, who had his face buried in his hands. “What’s wrong?”

Shrieking, he pointed to the door. Roland ran inside.

“What happened, Derrick?” she demanded to know. “What’s going on? What’s in there?”

His face white, Roland came running back outside.

Olivia’s heartbeat was racing. “Roland…”

“They’re dead,” he said in a panicked tone while taking his cell phone out of his pocket. “Both of them. Janice and Austin. I can’t believe this would happen here…in Spencer.”

“Who—” she asked with tears in her eyes.

“Janice wrote something in her blood,” Roland said before turning his attention to the cell phone. “I’d like to report two murders.”

“Her killer,” Derrick spat out. “I saw it, too. Lenny. Why else would Mom have written out his name in her blood while she was dying? Lenny Frost did it. He killed my parents.”

Chapter One

For the first morning in the three years since he had inherited two hundred and seventy million dollars, retired as a homicide detective, and moved into his late mother’s stone and cedar mansion on the tip of Spencer Point, Mac Faraday was finally going to be allowed to sleep in.

But who or what could possibly keep a multi-millionaire from sleeping in if he wanted to?

Gnarly, that’s who.

Gnarly was another part of Mac Faraday’s inheritance from his birth mother, Robin Spencer, the world-famous murder mystery writer. The German shepherd was a morning dog who woke up at the crack of dawn. When Gnarly got up, Mac Faraday—under threat of being trampled to death by a hundred pounds of paws and claws—had to wake up to let the dog outside to check the perimeter and conduct other canine business.

This weekend, Gnarly was gone.

Mac expected to sleep in to his heart’s delight—until his body refused to sleep one minute past six o’clock. Suddenly, he was staring up at the ceiling and cursing Gnarly for making the early morning wake-up such a habit that he couldn’t sleep in—even though he could.

Gnarly,
Mac grumbled at the absent dog,
I’m going to kill you.

A long slender leg slid over from the other side of the bed to drape itself across his bare hips. “Are you up?” the gentle voice whispered into his ear while stroking his chest.

“What are you going to do to me if I am?”

“Come over here to my side of the bed and you’ll find out.”

He rolled over to gaze into Archie Monday’s emerald green eyes. His late mother’s lovely assistant was not technically part of his inheritance. However, Robin Spencer had deemed that Archie was allowed to live in the guest house for as long as she wanted. She was no longer living in the cottage. She now resided in the main house—in Mac’s bedroom.

“There are advantages to being an early riser,” he noted while reaching for her.

Mac woke up a second time to the sweet scent of freshly brewed coffee coming into the bedroom. He moved to the center of his king-sized bed to allow Archie room to slip in next to him and hand over one of the mugs she was carrying.

“A guy could get used to this.” He rested on the pillows stacked up against the headboard before taking the mug she offered to him.

Pulling up the shoulder of her red robe that had fallen to reveal her slender shoulder, she flashed him a smile. “Are you talking about the coffee in bed or not having to get up to let Gnarly out… and then in…and then out again—”

“And then back in again,” Mac said before taking a cautious sip of the hot coffee.

“Come on, you miss him,” she insisted.

He reached up to touch her cheek. His fingers lingered on a blonde lock that threatened to touch her eyebrow. “Not as much as I miss you when you aren’t around.” He chuckled. “Gnarly doesn’t bring me coffee in bed.”

“Only because you don’t allow him on the counter,” she joked before setting her coffee mug on the night stand. She slipped under the covers and curled up against him. “I bet you don’t know what day it is.”

“Yes I do,” he replied. “It’s Saturday.”

“I don’t mean the day of the week. I mean what day it is.”

Not quite understanding, Mac furrowed his brows.

She lifted her head from his shoulder to gaze up at him. “You really don’t remember, do you?”

Mac held his breath. “Give me a hint.”

She sat up. “A year ago today you asked me to marry you.”

“Has it been a year already? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” she said. “A woman doesn’t forget those type of things.”

“I thought—”

“I’d forgotten?”

“No,” Mac said, “I didn’t think it was really official until I gave you the ring and we set the date.”

Her eyes narrowed to green slits. “Okay then. Let’s make it official. Let’s set a date.” She folded her arms across her chest. “New Year’s Eve. At Spencer Church. We’ll bring in the new year as Mr. and Mrs. Faraday.” Her eyes locked with his.

“Well…” he replied in a soft tone.

“What?”

“I think that’s a great idea…” His voice trailed off.

“But?”

“I was planning for us to spend New Year’s in Paris.” He hurried with his explanation when he saw her throw back the covers and climb out of bed. “It was going to be a surprise. We were going to have dinner at that little café that we discovered. I thought you would love to see the Eiffel Tower in Paris with the New Year’s fireworks—”

“Really?” Her tone was filled with doubt.

“Really.” He asked, “Don’t you want to see the Eiffel Tower?”

“I’ve seen the Eiffel Tower.”

“Not on New Year’s Eve.”

“Actually I have, as a matter of fact.”

“Well, I haven’t,” Mac said. “I want to go to Paris this New Year’s Eve.”

“I want to get married.”

“We will,” he said.

“Sure.”

The sarcasm in her tone, combined with the pout on her lips, told him that she wasn’t buying it. “Why don’t you believe me when I say we’re getting married?”

“How is it that I knew when you asked me last year that this was going to happen?” She stopped and took a deep breath.

He watched her hold it for a moment before letting it out in a sigh filled with exasperation. When she spoke, her tone was calm, which frightened him more than when she was agitated. Now she was being reasonable. It’s hard to argue with a reasonable woman, especially when she’s as smart as Archie Monday.

“When you asked me to marry you, you were afraid of losing me,” she said.

“Which made me realize how important you are to me,” Mac said. “I don’t want to not have you in my life.”

“And you do have me in your life.” She slipped back onto the bed next to him. “Mac, I love you so much—”

“Why does this sound like a kiss off?”

“It’s not a kiss off.” She reach up to touch his face. “I’m just releasing you from your obligation.”

He grabbed her hand from his face and held it tightly in his. “What does that mean?”

“You’re proposal last year was made in the heat of the moment,” she said. “If you were serious, if you really were ready to get married again, then you would have given me a ring and we would have set a date. I’m not stupid. Every time I have brought up a possible date, you have a reason why we can’t do it—”

“Legitimate reasons.”

“Then why haven’t you bought me a ring?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“For a full year?” She laughed. “Mac, I’m not dumping you. I’ll continue to live here in the mansion and in your bed for as long as you’ll have me. I love you, damn it. But as for this game of us pretending to be engaged…” She shook her head. “I’m not a fool.”

He grabbed her by the shoulders. “I love you, Archie.”

“I don’t doubt that.” She gazed into his blue eyes. “But you’re not ready to get married again. Have you forgotten? I was here when you first moved in three years ago. I saw how hurt you were by your first wife leaving you for another man after raising two children together
.
I listened to you talk about Christine—about how she had changed—how she wasn’t the same woman you had married—and murder cases, how people change. Isn’t that a big fear you have about me—about us? That right now we are perfect for each other, but what about a few years down the road? I think you’re scared of going through all that again, of being hurt to the core again the way Christine hurt you—”

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Mac said forcibly.

“I know you, Mac,” she said in a soft voice while brushing his cheek. “It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere, but I’m not going to push you either. When you’re ready to get serious about our getting married, I’ll be here—right by your side.” She pressed her lips against his.

When she pulled back, Mac was trying very hard to piece together what had just happened.

It felt like he was being dumped. The pain in his chest told him that he was. But then, she was smiling at him with love in her eyes—only there was hurt in their deep emerald pools, too.

Her love and kindness cut him to the quick worse than any hurtful words she could have tossed at him over his failure to follow through on the engagement after his proposal.

Her lips were moving and words were coming out of her mouth. “Mac, your phone is ringing,” he finally heard her say while picking it up from the night stand and handing it to him.

His fingers felt numb when he took it and checked the caller ID. It was David O’Callaghan, the chief of police. “Yeah, David…,” he said into the phone.

“Mac, I know you were planning a special weekend with Archie, but are you able to come in? We’ve got a serious situation here.”

“How serious?” Mac asked while grasping Archie by the shoulder as if to keep her in his bed. At the moment, he felt desperate to hold on to her.

“Two bodies. Multiple gunshot wounds. Middle-aged couple found by their son.”

“I’ll be there.” Mac felt her watching him while he took note of the address and location of the house.

When he hung up, she asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Wait for me.” He tossed the phone down onto the bed and took her into both of his arms and held her close. The top of her robe fell off her shoulders to reveal her soft tender skin. As always, her scent excited him.

“I’ll always wait for you.” She gazed into his eyes. Their lips were barely touching. “I’m a fool for you, Mac. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

“No,” he said, “you’re no fool. I love you and I do intend to marry you.”

“And I want to marry you,” she said. “So what’s the problem?”

“No problem here.”

“Prove it, Mac Faraday.”

“That’s what I intend to do, Archie Monday.”

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