Introduction

Meet Emma McCarthy, a thirty-year-old failed actress that just moved home to Plymouth, MA.

And her mother, Cindy, a yoga instructor in the Pinehills, an exclusive golf community in Plymouth.

They’ve just inherited Court Street Investigations, a private detective agency.

And its one part-time employee, eighty-year-old Mickey, a retired police detective.

They expect typical cases like cheating spouses or workman’s comp, but quickly learn that the agency also has a reputation for solving murders when they are hired to find a missing local woman.

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Excerpt

At ten, Mickey arrived, looking like someone’s favorite grandfather with a thick head of snowy white hair, twinkling blue eyes and a rosy nose and cheeks. He wore a Red Sox baseball hat and a Mr. Rogers style gray cardigan over a crisp white button-down shirt, and tan pants.

After they exchanged hellos, Mickey grabbed a set of binoculars off his desk.

“Are you ready to go, Emma?”

She jumped up and pulled on her windbreaker and slung her purse over her shoulders. “I’m ready.”

When they walked outside and into the parking lot, Emma saw her mother’s navy Audi sedan, her father’s silver Honda, which Emma was now using, and an adorable baby blue convertible.

“Is that your car, Mickey? What is it?”

“A Chrysler Crossfire. Has a Mercedes engine, you know. That thing can fly.” He smiled. “I get a lot of attention in that car. You should probably drive.”

Emma laughed. “Yes, we’ll take my car.”

He nodded. “Your mother used to let me take hers. Sometimes I drive our other car, a silver Toyota Corolla. But it’s so nice out today that I had to take the convertible.”

They climbed into Emma’s Honda and she handed Mickey the Dunkin’ Donuts bag. “There’s a bagel and cream cheese in there or donuts, if you’d rather.”

“Well, aren’t you thoughtful?” He opened the bag and took a peek inside. “Oh, munchkins are my favorite. They’re so small it’s like I’m not being bad at all.”

Emma laughed as she plugged the address into her GPS. She knew the area they were going to. Thirty-seven Resnik Road was just off Industrial Park Road near the Registry of Motor Vehicles.

It took them a little over ten minutes to get to the office park and to Plymouth Paper Company. She knew from the quick research she’d done in the office, that the company employed about fifty people and there were about that many cars in the parking lot. They found a spot with a view of the front door and turned off the engine.

“And now we wait,” Mickey said. He popped another munchkin in his mouth while Emma searched the internet on her phone to see what else she could find on Sean Campbell. She found his Facebook page and it had a good recent picture of him.

Sydney had emailed one to her mother as well, but it wasn’t as good as this one. The Facebook one was dated a week ago, and he was all dressed up for a night out, in a black suit and red power tie. His black hair was tinged with gray around the edges and slicked back with gel. He wasn’t a bad-looking guy for his age. Emma had never been one to go for older men, but she knew women her age in L.A. that would find Sean, his flashiness and his money, quite attractive.

“What was it like, being a detective? Do you miss it?” Emma asked Mickey.

He smiled. “I liked it, most of the time. And sometimes, I miss it. But, not usually. I don’t miss the politics of it, that’s for sure.”

“How long have you worked for my dad?”

“Let’s see. I turn eighty in two months and that will be twenty years. That’s something, isn’t it?”

“That’s impressive. Do you think you’ll want to keep working?” Emma hoped so, but couldn’t blame Mickey if he was ready to call it quits.

He laughed. “As long as you’ll have me, I’ll stay with it. What else would I do? I like to keep busy and as my wife says, it keeps me out of trouble.”

“This is probably safer than being a detective, I would think?”

“Yes. And I’m smart about it.” He was quiet for a moment before saying, “Your father wasn’t always as cautious. He was fearless, but I told him sometimes that he was foolish too. He took unnecessary risks. Stick with me, kid, and I’ll show you the smart, safe way to do this job.”

Emma wasn’t surprised to hear it. She knew her father was often impulsive and overly enthusiastic, which sometimes led to being careless. He’d never gotten himself into trouble, but from some of his stories, she’d suspected that he’d come close a few times.

“Smart and safe sounds good to me.” Emma continued scrolling through Sean’s Facebook page. He liked to post pictures of himself and his toys. She saw the fancy car. It was pretty, she had to admit. She groaned at the image of Sean holding two heavy weights, and with no shirt on. He did seem to be in good shape, but the no shirt, gym tan and thick gold chains around his neck made her cringe. But, from all the comments on the picture, many of them from women, she was in the minority.

Mickey told her stories of his detective days as they sat and waited. When Emma’s stomach rumbled a little before noon, she reached for the bag of donuts and ate a few munchkins. She knew they could be sitting there all day, if Sean didn’t go anywhere at lunchtime.

But a half-hour later, the front door opened, and Sean stepped out and they watched him walk to his car. The Lamborghini was parked right by the front door. He started the engine, backed up, and then drove out of the lot. A moment later, Emma did the same.

“Now, slow down a little and stay back. You don’t want him to notice you’re following him.”

“Okay.” Emma stepped on the brake and slowed until Sean was way ahead, but still visible. They followed him onto Resnik Road and then Commerce Way and then turned onto the highway, Route 3, heading toward Boston.

Plymouth was so big that it took up five exits along Route 3. They drove along at a good distance for two exits before following Sean off the highway and immediately into the parking lot of Carmella’s restaurant.

“Oh, good, I love Carmella’s.” Mickey seemed pleased with Sean’s choice.

Emma parked at the other end of the lot, so they had a good view of the front door. They watched as Sean parked and walked into the restaurant.

“So, now we just wait for him to come out and see if he walks out with anyone?” Emma asked.

Mickey was already unbuckling his seatbelt. “Nope. Now we go eat lunch. Come on.” view abbreviated excerpt only...

Discussion Questions

From the author:

Did you enjoy the book? What did you like most about it?

How did you feel about the different generations working together—thirty-year-old Emma, her fifty-five year old mother, Cindy and eighty something, Mickey.

Did the story go where you expected it to go? What did you think about Brady? Were you rooting for him? Or were you worried about him? Do you think he and Emma should stay friends or pursue a romantic spark?

Thank you for reading! There is a book two coming soon, Plymouth Cold Case.

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