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Showing posts with label A P.I. Berger Mystery Book 3. Show all posts
Showing posts with label A P.I. Berger Mystery Book 3. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 24, 2018

New Release -- The Case of the Lost Trophy Wife (A P.I. Berger Mystery Book 3) by Harol Marshall @prairierosepubs #mystery

 When prosperity gospel preacher Harvey Kow’s beautiful wife, Holly, goes missing in Tinseltown, P.I. Polly Berger’s investigative firm is hired to find her—and prove the Right Reverend Kow is innocent of any wrongdoing. 

But the wealthy preacher’s wife has some secrets of her own that come to light when one of Polly’s former clients, Cinda Mae Bradbury, divulges the past occupation of the missing woman. Did Holly Kow run away? Has she been kidnapped? Or, has something worse happened in Hollywood Hills?

With a killer on the loose, Polly is nearly murdered in a drive-by shooting, and the tarot card reader in Polly’s building mysteriously disappears after making a dire prediction for Polly’s ex-husband, Johnny’s future.

Can Polly, her assistant Bunny, and Johnny find Holly Kow before it’s too late? Their time is up, and their very survival depends on solving THE CASE OF THE LOST TROPHY WIFE…  

EXCERPT

     A minute or two after I’d informed Bunny of my decision to take the Kow case, I remembered the invoice I forgot to give him. I headed out to his desk with a copy of a statement from the L.A. Department of Power and Water.
     “One more bill to pay,” I said. “The best reason of all to work with a shyster like Bugsy.”
No sooner had the words left my mouth when all hell broke loose.
     “Holy sh—! Get down, Polly,” Bunny yelled, tackling me and dragging me behind his desk as a flurry of gunshots rang out.
     “What the—” I’d barely hit the floor when our building exploded in a fusillade of flying bullets and shattering glass and metal. The cannonade rivaled the Fourth of July at Dodger Stadium. I hoped our building’s earthquake fortifications were up to code, because there was a whole lot of shakin’ going on and not of the Jerry Lee Lewis variety. I listened for screams, wondering if anyone downstairs had been hit, but the only sounds reaching my ears were of the non-human variety.