Tough chick private Investigator Jane Ronson is up to her old tricks in Sleeping Dogs Don't Lie the concluding book in the Murder in the Dog Park trilogy
Here's a sneak peek excerpt from Chapter 4 -- "The Bitch is Back":
"Bring me a bottle of champagne," Mandy said, her voice slurred and throaty. "We’re celebrating."
“What are we celebrating?” I asked. I still couldn’t bring myself to look at her Bride of Frankenstein face.
“The destruction of ex-husband."
“That’s pretty dramatic,” I snapped. Another waiter appeared. He placed two Champagne flutes on the table then topped them off with the bubbling liquid.
“What does that have to do with me?” I asked. I wondered if a fancy joint like Lucien’s had Bud Lite on tap.
Mandy downed her glass in one swallow. “You did bang up job of ruining my life,” she said, fixing me a Kabuki-like stare. “In the wake of your so-called investigation of the so-called ‘murder in the dog park'...
Mandy paused. I couldn’t avoid looking at her. I squinted doing my best Clint Eastwood imitation.
“As I was saying,” Mandy continued, “after you meddled in our lives Brice divorced me. My alimony is a mere pittance. I live like a pauper. I’ve been forced to move to a condominium in Towson of all places. Of course, someone like you can understand what it’s like to live in such reduced circumstances.”
My blood pressure zoomed into the red zone. “Listen plastic face,” I said, forcing myself to look her in her unblinking eyes. “I only came here because you said you had some work for me, not to be insulted by someone who deserved what was coming to her. You’re personal problems are of zero concern to me.”
“Fair enough,” Mandy replied. “You didn’t deserve to have your cousin locked up,” Mandy said. “I sincerely apologize.” Mandy reached out and squeezed my hand. “Do you accept my apology?”
Her sudden change of tone made me even more wary of her motives. “Yeah, whatever,” I said, trying to get her to release her bony grip. I tried shaking her hand but she held on tighter. It was like being grabbed by a mummy. “I haven’t got all day for this Oprah crap,” I said, finally breaking free. “What exactly do you need me to do?”
“Find a hit man to get rid of Brice.”
“You heard me just fine.”
“I only have one good ear,” I said, tapping my prosthetic ear. “Repeat.”
“I want you to eliminate my ex-husband Brice Legg-Alexander,” Mandy shouted at me. The other diners turned to stare at us. I ducked my head into my chin. “Lower your goddam voice,” I said under my breath. You’re making a scene.”
“I know you’re the type of person to do this,” Mandy continued. “You’re ruthless and you have no morals. I should think this kind of job is right up your alley.”
I laughed so hard the table shook, almost knocking over the Champagne glasses. “I guess I should be flattered you think so highly of me,” I said, still giggling. “I’m no killer Mandy, and I don’t know any hit men.” I held up my left hand so Mandy could see my wedding ring. “I’m married to a cop. I’m on the right side of the law now. You want to someone to pop your husband? Get a gun and do it yourself.”
“Can you buy it for me?”
“No!” I said, glancing at my iPhone. “Look, I gotta go. It’s been a nice lunch, but I’ve got to get back to reality.”
“Wait,” Mandy cried out, grabbing my arm as I rose to leave. “I’ve got another idea. Let’s eat lunch and talk. My treat.”