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Gone in a Flash: A Naked Eye Cozy Mystery




  Gone in a Flash

  A Naked Eye Cozy Mystery

  Leah Burke

  Fairfield Publishing

  Contents

  Copyright

  Message to Readers

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Thank You!

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  Copyright © 2016 Fairfield Publishing

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Except for review quotes, this book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, without the written consent of the author.

  This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is purely coincidental.

  Thank you so much for buying my book. I am excited to share my stories with you and hope that you are just as thrilled to read them.

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  FairfieldPublishing.com/cozy-newsletter

  Chapter 1

  Marissa Larkin leaned against the wall in the conference room as the rest of the staff of The World at Large magazine filed in. She sipped her coffee—oh, how she’d missed decent coffee—and returned the greetings she received. There were a few jokes thrown her way and she responded in kind, making her colleagues laugh and roll their eyes.

  Man, it was good to be back. Excellent article fodder it might have been, but prison was definitely not for her as a long-term housing plan.

  She winked at Brand Williams as he entered and gave her boss, Harlan Davis, a cheeky smile when he walked in behind Brand. He returned her grin and gave her a jaunty little salute. Her articles from the slammer had catapulted the magazine into national recognition and Harlan was still on cloud nine.

  “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” Harlan announced. He was a big man with an equally big voice and his thick Texas drawl filled the space.

  “Good morning!” the staff chorused.

  “First, I want to welcome Marissa back from her vacation,”

  His comment was met with a round of laughter and Marissa pretended to wince and cower.

  Harlan smiled. “Second, I’d like you to congratulate her on her promotion.”

  “Promotion?” Marissa asked. Nobody had said anything to her about a promotion and she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at her boss. “Harlan, if you’re planning to have me arrested so I can write prison articles full-time, you’re going to have to pay me double.”

  “Can’t afford that, sweetheart,” he teased, “Keeping your commissary account in funds was expensive enough!”

  There was more laughter, but it faded out when Harlan’s expression sobered and he raised a hand for quiet.

  “It doesn't come with much of a raise,” he admitted, “but it’ll have you back out there.”

  “So what’s promotion-y about this promotion, then?” she asked, head tilting curiously. “I was ‘out there’ before, remember?”

  “Now you’ll be reporting exclusively on major crimes,” Brand offered from his place at the table.

  “Marissa will be our new crime reporter. Murders, kidnappings, etc. The kind of stuff that people want to read, but won't admit,” Harlan elaborated.

  “Congrats, Marissa,” Tabitha, one of the local events writers, called cheerfully, “Try to stay out of jail, okay?”

  Marissa stuck her tongue out at Tabitha, but she was smiling. This was going to be so much better than reporting on birds and climate change. Granted, that was what put her on the trail of her first murder-cover-up report. Thank you, Louisiana water thrush!

  Harlan was talking again. “But enough on that subject for now.”

  He turned his attention to the other reporters in the room. Within a matter of minutes the rest of the team had their assignments and were filing out of the room.

  “Marissa, in my office.” Harlan beckoned her to follow him.

  Harlan’s office was small and cluttered, but comfortable. It had a large window looking out on the New York cityscape. Marissa settled into the squishy cushions of the chair opposite Harlan. His paper-covered desk stood between them.

  “Soooo,” she drawled, leaning back in her seat, “Major crimes, hmm?”

  Harlan leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him on the desk blotter. His eyes were twinkling with enthusiasm. “Our sales went through the roof on a national level once we started publishing your Naked Eye articles. People love you, sweetheart. They want more of you and your style...though I’d prefer you not get into trouble on every assignment.”

  Marissa smiled. “What kind of journalist would I be if I made a promise like that?”

  “The employed kind,” Harlan shot back.

  “Touché,” she relented.

  Harlan sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes. “Just stay out of jail. Can you at least promise me that?”

  “I can only promise you I’ll try,” Marissa replied.

  “Good enough, I suppose,” he sighed at last. He pushed a manila folder across the desk to her.

  Whenever Harlan assigned a story, he provided quickly written notes that covered the basics. While he expected his reporters to do their own work, he also expected them to go beyond what the public held as common knowledge. By providing them with a solid understanding of the subject matter, he was giving them more time to do their own research.

  Marissa opened the folder and the first thing that caught her attention was the color photographs of two young girls. It was obvious that they were related; there were too many similarities between the two for it to be a coincidence. Sisters, perhaps. And for some reason the girls looked familiar. Where had she seen them before?

  She shifted the photos aside and turned her attention to the chicken scratch that he called writing. Years of looking at his messy scrawl made it easy for her to read the bullet points that were scribbled on the piece of paper torn from a legal pad.

  “Those are the Marlow twins, Jessie and Julia. They’re famous for that one diaper commercial and some TV show about high school,” Harlan explained. “The girls went missing a few days ago and the suspicion is they’ve been kidnapped, though there’s been no demand for ransom or any other kind of communication.”

  “These girls, they’re loaded, right?”

  Her boss nodded. “Loaded is an understatement. Which begs the question, why hasn’t the kidnapper made contact yet?”

  “Is it even a kidnapping or is the press jumping the gun?” Marissa mused out loud.

  “That is what you’re going to find out. Brand will fill you in on the rest of the details,” Harlan said, “Now go get me a story.”

  Marissa stood up and tucked the manila folder under her arm. This was going to be good.

  Chapter 2

  “Braaaaand,” Marissa crooned as she leaned forward and planted her palms firmly on her copy editor’s desk. “I think someone’s been keeping secrets.”

  As she stared him down, he stopped typing and leaned back in his chair, his gaze rising to meet hers.

  “Harlan wanted it to be a surprise
,” he explained with a grin, “He’d never forgive me if I stole his thunder like that.”

  His smooth voice rolled over her like a warm wave and that smile did funny things to her stomach. And those dimples.... Marissa had a weak spot for his dimples.

  “Well, mission accomplished. Color me surprised,” Marissa sighed. “But you know I hate surprises.”

  “I know. Sorry?”

  It sounded more like a question than a statement and Marissa rolled her eyes. She really did despise surprises. It stemmed from an incident involving a clown on her fifth birthday. The moment that raggedy-haired horror erupted from the giant box that she’d just unwrapped, she burst into tears. Ever since that fateful day, surprises and clowns were on the no-go list.

  Marissa relented. “All right. All right. What’ve you got for me?”

  In his best game-show-host impression, Brand announced, “You’re off to the big H. Hollywood, California!” He pressed a few keys the printer spewing out a flurry of pages. “Your plane leaves at 8 a.m. tomorrow. We booked you a room at the Hotel Hollywood. Room service is extra, though.”

  “Do I get a rental car?” she asked hopefully. Getting around such a big city by Uber would take forever.

  “We managed to scrounge up the funds, but don’t expect a luxury sedan,” he warned her playfully.

  “Am I meeting up with a guide or should I use a map to get around?”

  Brand raised a brow. “Do you even know how to read a map?”

  Marissa arched her brows as she looked at him. Of course she could read a map! She’d gone to the ends of the earth for her articles and her map skills had come in handy several times. She chuckled to herself - if she couldn’t read the map, at least she would stop and ask for directions. Or just use her GPS to get around the city. Brand, on the other hand, was the typical man. He’d wander around lost for days because he was too stubborn to ask.

  “Funny. At least I’m not above asking someone for directions,” she countered.

  He grinned at her again. “Anyway, you won’t need a guide. You already have meetings set up with Siena Marlow, the mother, and Jensen Davis, the twins’ manager.”

  “Aw, you spoil me, setting up my interviews,” she said.

  “Will I get to see you before you leave?” Brand inquired. A familiar light came into his brilliant blue eyes as he asked.

  They’d had dinner a handful of times since her return from Georgia last month and she liked the direction things seemed to be headed. They could almost be called a couple, though neither had broached the subject aloud.

  “Maybe.” Marissa shot him a saucy smile, then spun on her heel and swaggered over to her own desk. She’d leave him guessing for an hour or two, then see if he was up for dinner.

  “Oh, I almost forgot!” Brand exclaimed, reaching out to catch her wrist and pull her back. “I was also able to establish a contact inside the police department for you.”

  Hopefully his ‘contact’ would be more fun to work with than the last officers she’d dealt with.

  She leaned a hip on the edge of his desk and folded her arms “So who am I supposed to contact once I arrive in Hollywood?”

  “Officer Ranger Lawson.”

  Marissa blinked at him in surprise. “Are you serious? His name is Ranger Lawson?”

  “Yeah. I’m sure he’ll be more than willing to explain his name to you,” Brand grumbled.

  His tone and expression indicated he’d probably asked and had gotten an answer that was probably longer than he liked. He hated spending time talking to people on the telephone, preferring face-to-face interactions over being “robbed of visual and physical cues”.

  “Which department does our Ranger work at?” Marissa inquired.

  “Beverly Hills Police Department,”

  Marissa made a note of the name, thanked him, and headed for her desk. When she sat down, she discovered that someone had been kind enough to keep her work space dusted during her absence. Brand? That would’ve been awfully sweet.

  She needed to gather as much information as she could before flying out to Hollywood. The twins themselves seemed like the logical place to start. A little Googling turned up an almost overwhelming amount of information. It would take hours to sift through it, so she decided to narrow her focus; most recent news first and work back from there.

  It didn’t take long to discover that there was surprisingly little on Jessie and Julia Marlows disappearance. Most of the articles devoted their page space to the teens’ acting career and only at the end was there any mention that they were missing. One reporter believed that the girls were taken by their father, but the problem with that theory seemed to be that no one had ever claimed paternal rights. So, it’s probably not a custody thing.

  Marissa abandoned the articles and brought up a video search page. She wanted to get a better sense of the girls and one way to do that would be to watch available episodes of their television show. Even in character, aspects of an actor’s personality tended to show through. Through their work, the Marlows would give her clues, little pieces of themselves that she might be able to use.

  Once she knew more about the twins, Marissa could focus her attention on her interviewees.

  By the end of the afternoon, she had several sheets of what she hoped would be useful notes. Time to go home and pack.

  When she rose from her desk, she was surprised to see that the office around her was almost completely empty. Glancing at her phone, she saw why; it was almost 5:00! The only people left where Brand and herself. Even Harlan’s office was dark.

  “I’m headed home.” She stopped at Brand’s desk on her way out.

  He halted in the process of putting on his coat and fixed her with a smile. “I never got an answer earlier about seeing you tonight. Will you have dinner with me?”

  Marissa looked down at her rose-colored t-shirt, dark jeans, and sneakers. “I’m not really dressed for dinner.”

  “Nothing fancy tonight,” he said, “But there’s that little diner up the street.”

  “Ooh, the one that makes the amazing deep-dish pizza?” she asked excitedly.

  “The same,” he confirmed. “Want to grab a bite?”

  Marissa gave him a sly look. “Will you let me buy this time?”

  “I’ll arm wrestle you for it,” he replied.

  “You’re on!” she said, linking her arm through his as they left the office together.

  Chapter 3

  The diner was almost full when they arrived, but they were able to grab the last booth by the window.

  Marissa inhaled deeply and sighed in pleasure. “It smells divine in here.”

  "Do you need a minute?" the harried-looking waitress asked.

  Marissa looked at Brand. “I’m good. You?”

  “Ready.”

  They placed their orders and the waitress hurried off. Brand raised an eyebrow at Marissa’s long order.

  “Hey,” she said, “I told you on the way over that I was starving! I got up late this morning and didn’t have time to grab anything on my way to the office.”

  Their pizzas arrived in record time; hers was a deep dish with the works and his was a more traditional pepperoni. The first couple of slices were eaten in companionable silence, but once the edge of hunger was abated, the conversation resumed.

  “Have you ever been to California?” Brand asked.

  Marissa chased the bite of pizza with a swig of diet cola. “My family took a trip to Disney Land when I was 12, but I haven’t been back since. You?”

  “Never.”

  “Too bad the magazine can’t afford to send us both. Seriously, when was the last time you took anything even resembling a vacation?” Marissa teased.

  Brand met her eyes and smiled. “I was in Georgia about six months ago.”

  She made a face at him. “You were visiting me in jail. I don’t think that counts.”

  He shrugged. “Spending time with you is nice, relaxing...isn’t that the point of vacation?”<
br />
  “Awww, you’re sweet!” she replied, smiling. “And for the record, I like spending time with you, too.”

  “Good.” He beamed at her. “I’d like to make sure it’s a very regular occurrence.”

  They ate and laughed, and Brand let Marissa win their arm-wrestling contest over the bill...but only after she kicked his shin under the table.

  They shared a cab to Marissa’s place and, just as he had at the end of those other nights, he asked the cabbie to wait while he walked her to her door. They stood together on the front step for a moment, bathed in the glow of the entry light.

  “Be careful out there, okay?” Brand asked, taking her hands.

  “Of course!” she replied cheerfully...though maybe a little too cheerfully if his frown was any indication.

  “I mean it, Marissa.”

  He knew all too well what she was like, especially when she was working, and yet he asked anyway. It was thoughtful and sweet and she appreciated his concern. But nothing could stop her; she was too much like her dad. While on the force, he’d been willing to do whatever it took to get the bad guy—or girl, on occasion—and make them answer for the crimes that they committed.

  “I’ll be as careful as I can be,” she said, knowing it wasn’t exactly the answer he wanted.

  To her surprise, instead of pressing the point, Brand leaned down and kissed her.

  It was a long, slow, sweet kiss, and it was their first. Marissa breathed in sharply through her nose, surprised and kissed him back. Her arms went around his neck and his looped around her waist, pulling her body against his.

  The embrace of lips seemed to last an eternity, but that wasn’t nearly long enough. When Brand broke the kiss, Marissa pulled him close and renewed the heated contact.

  She wasn’t sure how long they stood there on the steps with the cab idling on the street, but both of them were breathless when they finally separated.

  “Wow,” she breathed.