On the Brink: The Jamie Keller Mystery Series, #4

By EN McNamara

Jamie, Jenny and Catherine are thrilled to the core when their band, Waiting in the Wings, lands a real gig.

"Finally, I can buy some new underwear!"

But all is not roses and lollipops. Mom's new boyfriend is a dud and the Keller kids are terrified at the thought that Kirk the jerk from Mom's work could become their new Papa.

Meanwhile, the usually so lucky Jana, has big (very big) problems of her own.

Take a tiny trip to Promise Oregon and forget about the rest of the world for a time.

Enjoy book Four of The Jamie Keller Mystery Series

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: EN McNamara
• Release date: Jul 21, 2014
• ISBN: 9781501467806

EN McNamara

EN McNamara runs a small lavender farm in wesrern Oregon. She spends much of her time in the care and feeding of the twenty-six mouths on the farm including, horses, dogs, cats, goats and many chickens. 

Book preview

Chapter One

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The Silver Saturn station wagon had never been the same after our cross country journey from Ohio to Oregon but she was all we had, besides the old truck, and Jenny and I were grateful that Mom had let us use the car for our audition. Mom’s concern really wasn’t for the car. She was more worried about us driving the sixteen miles of winding highway from Rosemead to Promise at night. She had good reason. My older sister, Jenny, was at the helm, and in my book, driving with her was dangerous anytime; night or day. Only two more months and I would get my license. I could only hope to live that long.

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I just know we’re gonna get the gig, Jenny said, adjusting the mirror, while managing to hit a few speed bumps in the process, I feel it in my bones. Jenny righted the Saturn with a jerk.

Eeegad. Watch it! I yelled, involuntarily bracing myself for the worst.

Jenny ignored me and continued with her assertions that our band, Waiting in the Wings would get the gig at The Blue Heron Inn in Rosemead. If we got the gig, it would be for three nights a week, Thursday, Friday and Saturday. The pay was the unbelievable amount of $300 a night. We were a trio. You do the math. This would be life-changing money.

I’m going to use every bit of my first night’s pay on a shopping spree, Jenny said dreamily. I clearly wasn’t the only one excited about our possible fortune.

I didn’t know where Jenny got her confidence, but I suspected she’d gotten a big ol’ heap of mine.

Edgar said that he had a few other acts to check out, I reminded her.

But Jenny wouldn’t hear any of it.

Just wait, she predicted, I bet you ten dollars that he’ll call by Friday.

I prayed she was right. It would be so fabulous to have money. We had been living in the poor house ever since my dad was killed in Iraq. He and Mom were so deeply in debt that Mom had to sell our house in Hamilton, Ohio and move my brother, two sisters and me to my grandfather’s farm in Promise, Oregon. My grandpa had left her the farm when he’d died a few years back. The place was paid for.

The trip across country was disastrous. Our mom went missing in Reno, Nevada, and we kids, fearing foster homes, were forced to drive the remainder of the way on our own. It was a glorious day, the day we reunited with mom, but before that glorious day there were many hair-raising moments of fearful uncertainty, as we tried to lay low on my grandpa’s farm. When I reflect on that episode of our lives, I wonder what gave us the gumption.

One of the bonuses of my grandpa’s farm is the neighbors. The Sousas saved the day during this trying time, and have since helped us in a million ways.

Grandpa’s farm was off the grid, so we relied on Mr. Sousa, who knew tons about solar power, windmills, generators and gravity-fed water, along with all the other stuff you need to know when you‘re not hooked up to the electric company. It was pretty weird at first, but the whole family has learned how to deal with it. My younger brother, Jake, takes care of most of these issues now. He grew up a lot after dad died - I guess we all did.

Anyway, we’d been living close to the bone for the last two years and it was getting old. 

Mom had a job selling ad time at the local TV station in Rosemead and always did her best to give us all the stuff we wanted, but by the time groceries were bought and bills were paid she didn’t come close. If we got the gig at The Blue Heron, I could buy a car. 

Suddenly, strange knocking sound brought me back to earth.

What’s that? I asked, in alarm.

I don’t know, but it doesn’t sound good. Do you think I should pull over?

I wasn’t sure what I thought, but before I could form an answer, little droplets of rain started to spatter the windshield.

If we pull over, the car may not start again and we’d be stuck on the highway in the rain. Why don’t we just try to get home? I suggested.

Dear Jesus, Jenny began, please bless this car and let us make it home safely.  We are grateful for your loving care. Please, Jesus. Please and thank you, Jesus.

Maybe you should thank him after we get home. I said.

It’s all about faith, Jamie.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

I knew all the rules because Jenny talked about Jesus all the time. She became a Christian after our dad died. In the beginning, it was irritating, but I had gotten rather used to it now. Heck, I was praying too. I just did it quietly. Jenny and I had completely different styles in almost everything.

The silver Saturn continued to knock and hiss.

Shit! If we can just get over the hill we’ll be home safe.

Don’t swear, Jamie, Jenny said absentmindedly. She was driving with more care than usual, which was good. By this time, the sprinkles had turned into bona-fide rain.

Sorry, I said, and really meant it. I didn’t want to fight with Jenny. I just wanted to get home.

The night was black and the increasing rain made it difficult to see the highway.

Why don’t you turn on the windshield wipers? I asked, suddenly remembering that there was such a thing. Apparently, Jenny had forgotten too.

Oh, yeah! Good idea. Jenny fumbled around for the knob, nearly steering us into the oncoming lane, which didn’t really matter because we were the only ones on the road. She finally got the wipers on but they were going much too slowly to combat the pouring rain.

Put them on high, I said patiently, wanting to rip the steering wheel out of her hands. How had she ever gotten her license? I could only believe that the DMV tester must have been taken by her good looks. There was no other explanation. It happened all the time.

Right, right, she assured me.

Mercifully, she managed to make the adjustment without running us off the road. I sighed deeply.

We’re slowing down, Jenny cried, desperately.

Just keep your foot on the accelerator. We’re almost to the top, I encouraged.

I think I can, I think I can. Jenny repeated the old phrase from one of our favorite child-hood stories.

I joined in.

"We think we can. We think we can. We think we can."

It may seem silly, or even foolish, but the ‘Little Engine’ chant got us home - well, almost home.

On the last little hill, just before our driveway the old silver Saturn blew a giant fart and just stopped. Jenny tried to start it again, but no dice.

At least we’re close enough to walk, Jenny said.

Much better than the highway, I agreed. Jesus almost got us home.

Well I hoped you thanked Him, Jenny reprimanded primly.

I had not thanked Jesus, but I’d thanked God, and dang, I was grateful. It was a close call and Mom was not going to be happy to hear that her only decent transportation was broken down on the road.

Jenny and I walked in silence. Our dog, Romeo barked as we approached the house and the cats, Schwartz and Isaiah rubbed against our legs as we neared the porch. A wonderful whoosh of heat greeted us as we entered the house. Jake, at the kitchen table doing his homework, looked at us in surprise.

I didn’t hear you guys drive up. I must have really been concentrating - how did the audition go?

The audition went fine, Jenny answered, but the car broke down. It’s up on the BLM road. We were lucky that it took us that far.

Giant bummer, Jake sympathized. What’s wrong with it?

Do we look like a mechanics? I asked.

Not at all, Jake answered, unfazed. What did it do right before it stopped?

It made a weird noise, then it lost power, and then it just quit, Jenny said.

Hmmm, said Jake, scratching his head.

Where’s Mom? I asked.

Where else? Jake pointed to Mom’s room while holding an imaginary cell phone up to his ear.

For the last few months my mom had been spending a lot of time