New Release -- The Case of the Vanishing Chef (A P.I. Berger Mystery Book 2) by Harol Marshall #FemaleSleuth #MysteryNovel

When Cinda Mae Bradbury, former stripper turned restaurateur, asks Hollywood P.I. Polly Berger to find her missing chef, Polly ends up tracking down a murderer instead. Is a “killer” mole poblano recipe enough to murder someone for? Cinda Mae believes someone kidnapped her chef, Henry, but L.A. Detective Johnny Birdwhistle thinks Henry could be on the run after murdering his competitor.

Polly’s caught in the middle—trying to stay alive long enough to solve the case one way or the other. Throw a gun-wielding brother-in-law in search of Polly’s twin sister in the mix, and another murder is imminent!

When Polly’s sister is kidnapped, Polly understands that family is more important than she ever realized before—and she’ll do anything to protect Franny. But to save her sister, she’s got to solve THE CASE OF THE VANISHING CHEF!

EXCERPT

     When my part-time secretary Bernardo 'Bunny' Contreras, ambled into my private office in Hollywood and closed the door behind him it meant one thing. It used to mean two things, but based on the current state of our relationship a new client must have walked in our front door—a prosperous client, I hoped, because the balance sheet of my firm, Berger Investigations, Inc., read Red with a capital R.

     My name is Pauline Isabel Berger, which makes me a P.I. by name, as well as by trade, and I’ve been in business going on three years. My offices are located in 'Tinsel Town,' seven blocks from the intersection of Hollywood and Vine, which puts us on the wrong side of the tracks, but the right side of the law.  

     In addition to working for me, Bunny is also my karate instructor and swing dance partner. On weekends he earns his chops as a standup comic, which is why he only works for me part-time. At the age of twenty-six he's twelve years my junior. Well, twelve years I admit to.

     I looked up to see Bunny leaning against the frame of my office door grinning his lop-sided grin. "You'll never guess who's here." My heart sank.

     "Do I wanna know?" I hadn’t meant to sound so grouchy, but Mondays are not my favorite day.

      "Y'all might," he drawled.

     I interpreted his drawl to mean the visitor waiting in the outer office was our previous client, one Cinda Mae Bradbury, former stripper turned restaurateur.

     "Okay, fill me in. Bun. How long's it been anyway?"

     "Coupla weeks. Enough time for her to finish shutting down The CatWalk and open La Gringa's, and I quote, ‘the best Mexican food west of east L.A.' She's been open for two weeks but you've kept me so busy running errands for the shyster frats, I haven't had time to give it a try. Wanna go there for lunch?"

     "Depends on whether I have an appetite after we meet. Show her in." I took a deep breath preparing to face my client whose murdered husband almost led to my own death, though not by her.

      

New Release — The Case of the CatWalk Saint (A P.I. Berger Mystery Book 1) by Harol Marshall @prairierosepubs #firestarpress #mystery

When stripper Cinda Mae Bradbury walks into private investigator Polly Berger’s Hollywood office, she brings a dazzling smile and a whole lot of trouble with her! Polly is always up for a challenge, and the gorgeous entertainer at the nearby CatWalk strip club brings Polly a case she just can’t resist jumping into with both feet. 

But Polly and her stand-up comic secretary, Bunny, barely scratch the tip of the iceberg before things turn deadly. What’s happening with the strange Señora at the Botanica de Angeles, the Mass of Santa Muerte, and the dead bodies that keep turning up?

When bullets fly, Polly could never guess she’d be so glad to have her ex-husband, Johnny Birdwhistle, helping out on the case. A crack detective with the Hollywood Police Department (HYPD), Johnny has his own reasons for lending a hand. But can Polly go back into a relationship—business or otherwise—with Johnny? Polly finds herself knee-deep in one of the most dangerous cases she’s ever taken on—one that involves murder and human trafficking…and it all started just down the street at The CatWalk.

EXCERPT

     “You’re the P.I.?” My visitor’s question sounded like an accusation. “P.I. Berger?”

The door to my office framed a silhouette Bunny would kill for. I looked her over. Long blonde hair flowed over her shoulders like cheese sauce over nachos. My stomach grumbled as she entered the room, her red knit dress locking in curves better than a Ferrari at the Grand Prix. I had her number already.

     “That’s me, how can I help you?”

     “You got credentials?”

     I pointed to the certificates hanging on the wall behind my desk. She sauntered over for a look, all hips and plenty of cheek. “I got a question,” she drawled, surveying the certificates, “are you a real P.I. or are those just your initials?

     I sighed. “Both.”

     “Did you make up that name ‘cause you’re a detective or did you decide to be a detective ‘cause that’s your name? I mean Pauline Isabel Berger ain’t your normal everyday detective name.”

     “I agree, it ain—er, isn’t. Can I help you with something?”

     “That’s why I’m here. What do I call you, Paul or Pauline?”

     “I go by Polly.”

     She grinned. “You wanna cracker?”

     Her wit lacked creativity, but I smiled anyway. “You know how many times I’ve heard that?”

     “Yeah. Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Wasn’t that the name of an old timey movie star? Polly Berger?”

     “Bergen.” I said. “With an ‘n.’”

     “Well, I guess nobody’s gonna mix you up with her, anyway.” She shrugged, sending me an apologetic look. “I didn’t mean that that the way it sounded. Polly Berger’s been in heaven for a while now, I think.”

     I held my tongue. These days I couldn’t afford to be fussy about new clients. As my secretary liked to remind me, “lose your patience, lose your patients.” Bunny found that funny. I didn’t, but I had to admit it helped me hold my temper.