Please welcome author Leeann Betts for the Everything Old is New Again
feature this week, and the 'Story Behind the Story
of her book Petty Cash.
Take it away, Leeann!
The Story Behind the Story – Petty Cash
By Leeann Betts
My parents once owned a
timeshare property in Hyannis, Cape Cod, back when timeshares were overpriced
and didn’t hold their value. In fact, this particular property was so bad in
the years after they bought, that they couldn’t even get anybody to rent it for
their week, which happened to be the last week of August each year.
I actually went and stayed in
this condo one year because I hated the idea of my parents losing money, and I
wanted to see how bad it could be that nobody would rent.
Well, it was bad. Tired. Worn out. Almost but not quite sagging. Perhaps
sagging emotionally.
However, I had a blast that
week, swimming, shopping, seeing the sights on the Cape. So, when I was looking
around for ideas of where to send Carly this time around, Hyannis came to mind.
Mind you, I have her staying
in a much nicer house, overlooking the beach, in a fictional town, but my time
on the Cape provided some insights into the setting.
Leave a comment and enter to
win a free print (US only) or ebook copy of Petty
Cash. Details below.
About the book:
Petty Cash,
book 7 in By the Numbers series featuring Carly Turnquist, forensic accountant,
finds Carly headed off for another mystery. She and hubby Mike travel to Cape
Cod as emotional support for their daughter Denise and her dentist husband Don
who finds himself in the middle of a potential practice dissolution. But when
their host fails to make an appearance, and a tropical storm blows through the
area, things are topsy-turvy. Then when their host’s body washes ashore, Don is
suspected. After all, they’d had several arguments witnessed by a number of
people. Can Carly figure out who the real killer is before her son-in-law is
shanghaied into a life sentence?
Excerpt:
Chapter 1
“Ooh, some days I could
just kill that man!”
Carly
Turnquist, forensic accountant by day and wife, step-mother, and grandmother
all the time, sighed and closed the computer file she’d been reviewing when
Denise’s call came in. “Calm down, and tell me what’s going on.”
A long quiet
filled the line—well, not exactly quiet, given the voices intruding in the
background—from Denise’s end of the call. Don, her husband and Mike and Carly’s
son-in-law, asked about a clean shirt. Margie, eight going on twenty-eight,
nattered on at her younger brother Toby about not drawing on the walls.
Several
gulping breaths, reminding Carly of a drowning goldfish, filtered through
before Denise continued, her voice a notch lower than before. “Don’s partner.
Maurice, but everybody calls him Mo.”
“Don is
nearby, right?”
“Right. And I
don’t want him to know I’ve been talking about Mo.”
“Why ever
not?” Carly closed the cover on her laptop. If she didn’t, she’d think about
all the work that needed doing and not concentrate on Denise’s call. Which
would merely lengthen the conversation. “Is it a secret?”
“No, not
exactly, but Don doesn’t want gossip to start. You know how it is in a small
town.”
Carly
resisted the urge to snort. Although married to a native for eleven years, the
residents of Bear Cove, Maine, a tiny hamlet of less than four hundred souls at
the height of lobster season, still didn’t think of her as “one of them”.
“Understood. But it’s unlikely I’ll ever sit around and chat with folks from
Riverdale.”
“True. But
they do go outside the town limits occasionally, and since they don’t wear
signage indicating where they live, you just might bump into one of them.”
Carly
chuckled. Denise ran into much the same attitude about the fact she’d swooped
in and stolen one of Riverdale’s most eligible bachelors, although the
residents did at least treat her better than out-of-towners, as they called
anybody not from Riverdale.
Unlike Bear
Cove, whose town motto—if they had one—would be: if you don’t live here, go
away.
“So what can
you tell me? Other than you have homicidal thoughts about the man.”
“He has been
so unreasonable lately.”
“Maybe he’s
under a lot of stress.”
Now Denise
did snort. “Stress? Why do you think people become dentists instead of medical
doctors? No emergency calls. No late night outings. Closed on weekends. Four
weeks of vacation every year.”
“Point taken.
So if not stress, what?”
“I think he’s
always been this way, and we’re just beginning to notice.”
“Unlikely but
possible.” Carly chewed on the end of a pencil, wishing she’d brought in a
granola bar and soda on her last trip to the kitchen. “What are you going to do
about him?”
“Can’t do
much, can I? He’s Don’s partner, not mine.”
“How has he
been acting?”
“Coming in
late. Leaving early.”
“Maybe he has
a girlfriend.”
“The last
time he asked a woman out on a date, he talked about it for a week before and
two weeks after. But he never got up the nerve to ask her out again, so that
was the end of that.”
Carly pulled
open a desk drawer. Maybe she’d left a candy bar or a package of crackers.
Nothing. She sat back in her chair. “Okay, so not a woman. What else?”
“He got angry
at a patient last week for being three minutes late to her appointment. Her car
wouldn’t start and she had to call a tow truck. She called the office, and the
receptionist assured her she was fine. But he tore a strip up one side of her
and down the other when she came in. Threatened not to treat her and to charge
her for a missed appointment.”
“That does
seem overboard.”
“And after he
spent fifteen minutes haranguing her in the waiting room, in front of other
patients, he finally agreed to see her.”
“Okay, so he
had one bad day. What else?”
“Don says one
minute he’s smiling and jovial, the next he’s sullen and moody. He said it’s
like walking on eggshells around the office. And he’s taken to wearing these
old red rubber boots everywhere. I saw him in the grocery store last week and
commented on them. He looked down at his feet as though he didn’t know what I
was talking about. And now Don said he wore them in the office and refused to
change into his regular shoes. Said he left them home. But Don saw them under
his desk.”
“I expect
your hubby is bringing this stress home, and so now you’re unofficially
involved. Well, has Don asked Mo what’s going on?”
“Sure. And Mo
says everything is fine. Not to worry. Or he turns it back on Don and accuses
him of meddling in his private life.”
“Could he be
on drugs?”
“Don isn’t
sure. But get this. This is the strangest thing of all.”
Carly leaned
in as though Denise were in the room with her. “What?”
“Yesterday,
Mo asked Don to meet him for coffee. Don went. In fact, he was fifteen minutes
early. But Mo was walking out of the coffee shop, red in the face, angry. The
veins in his forehead were bulging, Don said.”
“Maybe Don
got the time wrong.”
“He thought
so too, but as he walked in, he checked the text Mo sent him. He was early.”
“Maybe Mo’s
fingers were faster than his brain that day. Happens to me all the time.”
Denise
sighed. “Mo admitted Don was early. But he said he was done sitting around and
waiting for Don to grow up and take responsibility. Implied he’d been carrying
the practice all these years, and Don did nothing to bring in patients.”
“Well, Don
and you and I know that’s not true.”
“Don tried to
get him to sit down and talk like adults, but Mo took offense to that. He
shoved Don aside and said he never wanted to see him again.”
Carly
exhaled. That was one thing she liked about working alone—no partners or
employees to deal with. “Sounds like Mo wants out of the partnership.”
“Sounds like
it.”
“I’m sorry to
hear about your troubles.”
“You’d think
that was the end of it, but it isn’t. Today Mo texted Don and said he was sorry
and wanted to see if they could patch things up between them. Invited us and
our guests to spend a week on the Cape at his summer home. Said he has a
six-bedroom house, and we can fill up five of them.”
“I’d take
that as an apology and jump at the chance.”
“So we asked
Tom and Sarah to join us, and to bring Bradley so he could spend time with our
two. And we wanted you and Dad to come, too. I’d feel better if we had several
calm males there in case Mo gets weird again. Please say you’ll come.”
Carly opened
the joint calendar she and computer programmer husband Mike kept and scanned
the days ahead. “When do you leave?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Wow, that’s
not much notice.” She ran a finger along the week. “But our schedule looks
pretty open for the next few days. I have to be back to testify in a big court
case on the day after Labor Day, though.”
“Yeah, the
kids start school that day, too, and Don has to be back to work, too. Tom and
Sarah will also leave on Monday. I’m hoping we can at least have a party or
picnic to celebrate the end of summer before we all scatter to the four winds.”
“Then we have
a plan.”
“Great. Tom
and Sarah are driving down today. They’ll stay here overnight, and we can
connect with you at that restaurant on the highway in Augusta around ten. The
kids will be ready for a bathroom break by then, and I’ll be glad for a
coffee.”
“We’ll be
there. Looking forward to seeing everybody. It’s been a while since we did
anything together.”
Carly hung up
and opened the cover of her computer. Mike would be home soon, and hopefully
he’d be excited to hear about their impromptu vacation. Surely he wouldn’t
blame her for looking for a mystery where none existed.
After all,
this wasn’t her idea.
So if they
found a mystery, it couldn’t be her fault.
About Leeann:
Leeann Betts writes
contemporary suspense, while her real-life persona, Donna Schlachter, pens
historical suspense. She has released seven titles in her cozy mystery series, By
the Numbers. In addition, Leeann has written a devotional for accountants,
bookkeepers, and financial folk, Counting
the Days, and with her real-life persona, Donna Schlachter, has published two
books on writing, Nuggets of Writing Gold
and More Nuggets of Writing Gold,
a compilation of essays, articles, and exercises on the craft. She publishes a
free quarterly newsletter that includes a book review and articles on writing
and books of interest to readers and writers. You can subscribe at www.LeeannBetts.com or follow Leeann at www.AllBettsAreOff.wordpress.com
All books are available on Amazon.com in digital and print, and at Smashwords in digital format.
Website: www.LeeannBetts.com Receive a free ebook
just for signing up for our quarterly newsletter.
About the Giveaway:
As stated above. Leeann is giving away a free print copy (US only) or a digital (eBook) copy of Petty Cash to one of the readers of this blog. To enter, just leave a comment below with your contact information (so we can notify you if you win).
Giveaway ends one week from today on Monday, March 19, at Midnight O'clock. Winner will be drawn the following Tuesday. We're eager to hear from you!
