Sins of Eden
A Sam Jenkins Mystery
by Wayne Zurl
After losing their jobs at Prospect PD, veteran detectives
Sam Jenkins and John Gallagher set up shop as private investigators. But their
life in the private sector is short-lived when their former colleague, Bettye
Lambert, the new county sheriff, enlists them to investigate a seemingly cold
missing person’s case.
Twenty-seven year old Tommy Lee Helton disappeared from the
beautiful and idyllic Orr’s Valley section of Prospect where he lived. None of
his family or friends can find him and no one can provide a clue to where he
may have gone.
The closest thing to a lead comes from a beautiful woman who
is a member of the environmentalist group to which Tommy Lee belongs. Her
information leads Jenkins and Gallagher to a paper mill reportedly discharging
toxic chemical waste into the river system of North Carolina and Tennessee.
The security supervisors at the mill, a former federal agent
from the Diplomatic Security Service and a retired Marine Corps sniper had a
serious confrontation with Helton during a demonstration organized by the
activists. They soon become prime suspects in his disappearance.
As the search and investigation continues, an unrelated
murder victim is found, more anomalies spring up, people are blatantly
withholding information and nothing seems to be as it appears.
The question remains, with all those obstacles, can Jenkins
and Gallagher find the missing person and restore order to their little chunk
of paradise on “the peaceful side of the Smokies?”
Genres
Mystery Series
Heat Level: 1 flame – Sweet- Love scenes are not
consummated, or if the love scenes are consummated details are not given.
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Excerpt
September 2011
The paint wasn’t dry on the walls before we started moving
in.
“Ya know, Boss,” John said, “we should have bought new
office furniture. That would give the place a touch o’ class. This old stuff, I
don’t know. Clients judge you by the appearance of your office.”
No one will ever accuse former Detective John Gallagher of
being financially savvy. And his wife is no better. They had living beyond
their means down to a science—spending money like Crockett and Bowie the night
before the Alamo fell.
I finished rubbing dark scratch remover into a scar on top
of the old solid oak desk. “First thing, John, stop calling me boss. We’re
partners in this cockamamie private detective business. I have a first name.
Please use it.”
“Okay, B…uh, Sam. But you know how it is, old habits are
hard to break.”
“Let’s put those words to music and get Bobby Vinton to sing
it. The song should be more successful than we’ll ever be.” I shook my head. “I
don’t know why I let you talk me into this private cop venture.”
John looked shocked that I’d question the sanity of his
goofy scheme.
“It was a good idea,” he said. “According to Lonnie Ray,
we’ll make lots of money.”
“And we agreed to give Lonnie Ray Wilson seventy-five bucks
for every hour he spends with us working on his computer, hacking into places
where we shouldn’t be. You think he’s got a vested interest in suggesting we
start this business?”
“Boss, you’re the voice of doom.”
I grunted and finished buffing the top of the old desk as I
sneered at Gallagher. “There, see? These things have character. Between the
Salvation Army and Goodwill, I bought four desks and eight chairs. After I
tipped the kids who work there for helping me load this stuff into my truck,
the whole shooting match cost us $320.00. You can’t get a bottom-of-the-line
new desk for that—and it would be made from some kind of poisonous Chinese
flake board that would give us cancer. Who needs new furniture? These may not
be genuine antiques, but they have a special kind of class. They give the place
sort of a…hardboiled, Philip Marlowe look. Vintage. Like us.”
John didn’t have a chance to comment when Bettye Lambert walked
into the outer office.
“Good mornin’, gentlemen. How’s the new business goin’?”
“Well,” I said, “you’re looking good. The new job suits
you.”
John jumped in with a compliment of his own. “Yeah, Sarge,
uh, Sheriff, that outfit is way nicer than your old Prospect PD uniform.”
For the five years I’d known Bettye, during our time
together at Prospect PD, I often thought of her as the loveliest desk sergeant
on the planet. Now she’s the most beautiful sheriff. Her silky black blouse
clung to her figure like one of the gowns worn by the Muses and Graces living
above the clouds on Mount Olympus. Her straight beige skirt showed only an inch
of knee and couldn’t have been more appropriate for a newly appointed female
sheriff.
John, on the other hand, looked like a slightly larger than
usual leprechaun whose tie was always too short. Or were his pants always too
low?
“Thank you both,” she said. “I won’t lie and say I wasn’t
overwhelmed when I started this new job, but so far, so good. I’m gettin’ to
like it.”
John smiled.
I said, “Good.”
“But listen,” she said. “I came to see you guys and ask how
you like bein’ private eyes?”
I let Bogie answer, “Private investigators, doll-face. Save
that private eye malarkey for guys like Boston Blackie. We’re high class like Marlowe
and Spade. We get twenty-five smackers a day plus expenses. And I love it when
a dame like you visits the office.”
“Well, thank you, Mr. Bogart. Have you been busy?”
“Honest answer?” John said. “I did one case—followed a
cheating husband and his girlfriend to a sleazy motel. Not exactly the French
Connection.”
Bettye smiled before asking a question, the answer to which
would change our lives for the next couple of weeks. “How would you like to
work for me? I’m ready to put you two on the payroll and let you use those
Special Investigator badges I gave you when I became the official interim
sheriff of Blount County.”
John jumped in promptly. “Yes, ma’am. I could use the
money.”
I played hard-to-get. “What’s it all about, sweetheart? Come
on. Spill the beans. I’m no sap. What am I gettin’ involved in for my
twenty-five bucks?”
“Will you stop with that 1940’s act?”
“If I must.”
“Good. This should be right up your alley. And you get a lot
more than twenty-five dollars a day.”
She took a moment to reactivate a smile I took in with my
eyes but felt all the way down to my shoes. I have problems leaving my
hardboiled gumshoe character behind.
“Stanley got a missin’ person case in Prospect that he
passed off to us because he’s goin’ to be in Los Angeles for at least three
weeks,” she said. “His grandmother died. His family would like help handlin’
her affairs, and Prospect PD is shorthanded now that we all left. I’m low on
personnel, too, what with vacations still goin’ strong and a couple of
complicated cases that are keepin’ CID busy.”
“I like missing persons cases,” John said. “The Boss does,
too.”
“John, I’ve asked you to stop calling me that. But you’re
right. I like MP cases. Always have.”
“Ya know, Sheriff, the Boss, uh, Sam, worked missing persons
cases when he first got to be a detective back in New York. He started out in
Juvenile but didn’t last long there.” John lowered his voice and looked around
as if he was afraid some nonexistent person might hear him. “He told me MP
cases were easy because you didn’t have to worry about Miranda or any of that
stuff. He’d dangle someone out a window or hang them off a pier to get
information about the missing kid.”
Bettye looked at me as if she just learned I enjoyed pulling
the wings off dragonflies. “Sam Jenkins, I will not allow you to dangle or hang
or otherwise physically abuse some witness while you’re investigatin’ for me.
Is that clear?”
“Yikes,” I said. “Has she gotten tough or what? John,
there’s no doubt who’s the new boss in town.”
“Oh, stop,” she said.
“Okay. When are you going to tell me about the case? I need
to know a few things before we jump into this.”
Bettye smiled. “I’ll tell you all about it if you take me to
lunch.”
“I’ll bet you’ve got an expense account, don’t you?”
“Matter of fact, I do.”
“Wow, a pretty woman with an expense account. I’d marry you
if your father owned a liquor store. Let’s go someplace pricey.”
“Yeah, Sheriff, I mean, Boss,” John said, “I can call you
that, right?”
“Of course you can, John,” Bettye said.
He finished with, “Where we going?”
“Not we, John,” I said. “You have to write up your keyhole
peeping case for the offended woman, and then you’ve got those four boxes of
crap you want to hang on the walls to deal with. I’m gonna take my blonde lady
friend here and buy her a glass of cheap white wine before she picks up the tab
for our expensive lunch. I’ll come back and tell you why she wants to hire us.”
What the readers say about Sins of Eden
(Rachelle) Rae Long
5.0 out of 5 stars
Amazon Review
Prospect, TN gains new
Private Investigators...
...and Sam Jenkins is one of them! Sargent Bettye has been
promoted to Sheriff, and she's hot on Sam and John to help her out (because Sam
always gets his man.) Prospect Police Department is still on duty, keeping
their peaceful city safe. Chief Stanley and our favorite P.O.'s still maintain
Sam's old haunt at the Prospect police Office. The book is the perfect
"lay back and read, good and delightful humor" that I always expect from
Mr. Zurl's writing. To quote from the book: [Sam replied to Sheriff Lambert]:
"I may no longer be a police chief, but I still know everything." I
wish there was more space to quote the author's humorous lines. I Totally
enjoyed the police procedural, the accuracy and amount of detail in guns and
ammunition, and the words the author uses to paint the picturesque scenes that
capture the mountains around Prospect, TN.
Jackie Taylor Zortman
5.0 out of 5 stars
Amazon Review
All Doubts Put to Rest
Since I knew Sam Jenkins (who has replaced Jesse Stone in my
heart) was not going to be the chief of police of the Prospect, TN Police
Department anymore, I was hesitant to decide if I was going to continue craving
the books about him. The good news is I absolutely love it just as much as I
did before. He's still the same sexy, witty and take-no-guff personality and
his sidekick, John, is too. And I was happy to see his wife return in this
book, as well. As always, I loved this book by Wayne Zurl and am anxious to
read the next one that comes out
Nancy L. Silk
5.0 out of 5 stars
Amazon Review
"An Awesome Sam
Jenkins' Investigation"
In this latest novel by great author Wayne Zurl, who is a
retired New York Police Officer, a man is lost in the eastern Smoky Mountains.
Was he kidnapped? Did he run away from the one young woman in his life? The
story starts off as a simple missing person case, but it erupts into a world of
industrial pollution, environmental activists, and profuse uncertainties. Sam
Jenkins and John Gallagher investigate this unusual case and learn there are
many people withholding the truth. Will time run out to solve the case? An
awesome and captivating story. Highly recommend.
The Island Wanderer
5.0 out of 5 stars
Amazon Review
I'm a huge fan!
January 29, 2019
I've read every Wayne Zurl book and this one doesn't
disappoint, I'd recommend his books every day, all day long!
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EBOOKS
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