Gabriel Karne is cautiously optimistic. Life seems to be settling down, but in the past this has meant something unpleasant is about to hit the fan.
It’s a new year. The former con artist has a permanent-for-now address, even Keith-the-cat seems to like it there. No more rickety sailboats and living out of go-bags for Gabriel Karne. No surprises. No dead bodies.
Romance-wise, he and Ranger Man are easing into being a couple. A lifetime of habits is hard to break—for both of them.
Gabe has a job. Will he regret agreeing to it? The eight ball says, maybe.
Another damn letter–this time from a stranger–shows up, the author claims they have some of his late mother’s belongings. Great.
Additionally, a strange young woman appears on his new doorstep. She claims to be his long-lost daughter, and has completely sketchy documentation to prove it. It’s not impossible, and yet… Gabe wasn’t born yesterday, and Heidi Karne was his mother, after all.
The next time Gabe sees the young woman, she’s dead.
It will be fine. Everything will be fine.
Gabe was cold. His head and back hurt. He was hungry, and he was pissed off. And his bladder needed relief.He’d been unceremoniously packed into a vehicle of some kind. With his luck, it would turn out to be a cliché serial killer-style van, all black and no windows, the passenger seats removed for easier transport.You are not the stereotypical serial killer’s dream catch, Chance.The vehicle was big enough that his abductors had been able to easily toss him inside. He’d rolled onto his side on a cold metal floor but didn’t have much more space to move around. A bag or a shirt—cloth of some type—had been pulled over his head so he couldn’t see. Worse, Gabe was forced to breathe through his mouth because whatever the fabric was, it reeked of sweat and body odor. Covering his head meant they didn’t want him to know who they were and where they were going, right? Or that the kidnappers had watched way too much TV and thought covering his head was just something they needed to do. That was not good. Or was it?It bothered him that they weren’t speaking. But again, could be the too-much-TV thing on the part of his kidnappers.“If you tell me what you want, like by using your words instead of inflicting pain, I might be able to help you.”Nothing. Not even a grumpy shut it.“I’m a nice guy, some even would say considerate. Maybe not everyone would say that, but lots of folks.” Gabe paused. “Okay, so maybe only my close friends would say that, but they are very good judges of character.”He was greeted with silence. Which was disappointing.His head throbbed where he’d been hit. Gabe was choosing to believe he’d been dazed and not knocked out because he hadn’t been out that long. Coming back to himself while they were wrestling the disgusting rag over his head, he’d done his best to resist, but they’d bound his wrists and ankles. He managed to roll one wrist and was rewarded with hard, pointy plastic. Zip ties. Great. He wasn’t escaping those.“So, hey, did you guys watch a lot of Scooby-Doo as kids? A Night of Fright is no Delight was my favorite episode, although AGaggle of Galloping Ghosts was good too. I bet you wonder how I remember the titles. Can’t explain it, there’s a lot of useless information saved in my brain.” While he talked, Gabe continued to try and free himself, but the way they’d thrown him in meant he was right up against some boxes with no spare room to be had. If he kept it up, he was going to end up being one large, Gabe-sized bruise. Casey would not be happy.Gabe knew he should be frightened, but he wasn’t. Maybe the odor of the bag was affecting his judgment. By his estimate, they’d been driving for at least thirty minutes, which meant they weren’t on Heartstone any longer unless they were going in circles, but Gabe didn’t recall bumpy roads, like this one appeared to be, on the island. He amused himself by imagining he was riding in the Mystery Machine while careening recklessly along the unpaved back roads of the Olympic Peninsula.Twice the van slowed and the engine revved when the driver punched the gas, the tires struggling on what Gabe was going to assume was a muddy-ass road. The rain pounding down on the roof of the car sounded like they were in a car wash, making the already crazy experience even more surreal.“I watched that show, like, a lot. I had a crush on Daphne, but didn’t everyone? Admittedly, I thought Fred was hot too, and Shaggy had his own appeal. And Velma’s glasses, wow. Okay, I had a crush on the whole gang.” He thought he heard a whispered Jesus Christ, but he wasn’t sure.Good. Maybe he could annoy them into speaking, giving away something that would tell him who these fuckers were.The van started to slow once more and then this time stopped entirely. A door opened with a screech, and Gabe heard someone jump out of the vehicle. Then the door slammed shut and the van started moving again, but at a snail’s pace and for a much shorter period of time.“Help me get him out,” said the guy he’d labeled as Number One. Abruptly, Gabe realized the voice was that of Stinky-Socks Randy.Seriously, Stinky-Socks had kidnapped him? Gabe was almost embarrassed.“You know, I could walk myself out if you took the zip ties off me. There’s no need for the rough handling.”“Don’t you never shut up?” asked a second voice.“What can I say, it’s a curse.” Dammit. He knew that was a voice he hadn’t heard before.
Broken, broody, mysterious, swoony, inclusive; these are my tropes.
It’s my grandmother’s fault! She bribed me to read with a Nancy Drew box set—and changed my life forever.
It was love at first binge read.
Is there anything better than a character who by the end of the story manages to redeem/heal themselves enough to fall in love? No, there isn’t.
What else? I love both cats and dogs. Star Wars and Star Trek. Pineapple on pizza, and have a cribbage habit my husband encourages. We live in a log cabin near Hood Canal in Washington State, if the sky is clear at night the milky way is visible. But most often I’m inside plotting yet another mystery/romance.
