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A Rolls Royce Affair
A Rolls Royce Affair
A Rolls Royce Affair
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A Rolls Royce Affair

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Detective Gregg Sweet is found with a bullet in his head. The newest detective on the department had found him a new girlfriend, Susan Bolin. But while his Rolls Royce affair of diamonds and money was spinning in his head, Susan wasn't free from a rich husband, who may not have been as thrilled over her new love as she was, or so it seemed.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMar 14, 2016
ISBN9781311929259
A Rolls Royce Affair
Author

GiAnna Moratelli

Born in El Paso, Texas, I grew up in Iowa and was lucky enough to have parents that that had money to travel, a truck and 45' fifth wheel, and liked to travel. I've been in almost all of the fifty states, from the east coast to the west and have visited small bits of Canada and Mexico. As a major in history, I've visited the battlefield of the Little Big Horn; on three different occasions, Gettysburg Battlefield, and the Battle of Athens (which most have never visited, it sits on the border of Iowa and Missouri). I've been to as big a places as the Smithsonian Institute and small places as the grave of Chief Wapello located in Agency, Iowa and The Grotto of the Redemption in northern Iowa, which is well worth anyone's time, especially if you like rocks and history. I grew up, as ole horsemen say, on the back of a horse. I started riding by myself when I was three and when I was sixteen I started working at the tracks of Standardbred racing barns during the summers when we weren't travelling. After graduating high school I bought a couple of race horse; a six month old dark bay filly named J.C's "Blitz" DeVane and a little later a yearling sorrel colt named "Breezy" Judge, which I trained and raced myself, only needing to acquire a fair license to do so, compared to those who had pari-mutual license. My horse racing came to an abrupt end a few years later with a barn fire, in which none of the 12 head of horses died, The horse I'm pictured with is Breezy, the best horse I ever owned (and I've owned a lot of horses of different breeds) and passed from this earth when he was 25 years old. I went to college, attended R.O.T.C.; went to Fort Knox, Kentucky for basic training and earned a B.A. in history. My interest lying mostly in American history. Other than the above, many other experiences in life, and living in different places, have given me good resources for my writing: 1. Staying with my grandparents on their farm when I was very young is where I learned to ride and gave me knowledge of farming, which I later helped a farmer near where I grew up. 2. I work for my father; who is a Certified Public Accountant, doing taxes and bookkeeping. I started working for him when I was in middle school, and after health problems in our family, have come back to help him as of 2019. 3. I managed my dad's used car lot in Fairfield, Iowa. 4. I drove a semi with a 52' trailer over the road for 13 years. 5. I worked real estate and did real estate appraisal as a second job to OTR. 6. I've done construction work (helping my dad and brother put up my dad's office building from the ground up, plus many other projects for my dad, many which included pouring concrete every Fourth of July for more years than I care to think about. 7. I worked for a local manufacture making cabinets 8. While in college I cleaned at a hotel to pay my way through the first two years. 9. After college, while driving OTR (after the RE job) I sub-taught for two years. 10. I worked security for four years. 11. I do know how to cook, make garden and can food. That's my life wrapped up in a peanut shell. I decided to write fiction under my pen name and non-fiction under my real name Linda Scott. Just a good idea I thought to keep the two of them seperate.

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    Book preview

    A Rolls Royce Affair - GiAnna Moratelli

    A Rolls Royce Affair

    By

    GiAnna Moratelli

    COPYRIGHT 2016

    GiAnna Moratelli

    SMASHWORDS EDITION

    This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    Chapter One

    Joe tapped the eraser end of his pencil on his desk as he read through the papers on his desk. It was going to be another late night and he was hating it, anxious to get home to his wife and the start of a much needed weekend off, unless of course there was another murder.

    That’s really annoying, you know that, a man stated.

    Joe glanced up, his dark brown eyes looking at a man with salt and pepper hair standing at the desk across the aisle and two desks up from his. He was getting ready to leave early as usual, what did it matter to him? Joe ran his hand back through his dark brown hair then along his mustache to his goatee.

    How long you going to be working on that stuff?

    I don’t know, Gregg, you want to stick around and help me finish it?

    Gregg Sweet shook his head. I have better things to do with my time these days. He pulled his sleeve down. These diamond cuff links can be a real pain, you know that?

    Joe slightly nodded. Be here early, Monday. Our new captain, Morris Viola’s going to be here and I don’t want anyone late.

    I’m not usually, am I?

    No, but I don’t want there to be a first time, Joe replied, as he flipped over and put it on the stack he’d already gone through. You watching the game, Saturday?

    Not this, Saturday. I have other things going on, Gregg replied. Constance, is she a big basketball fan?

    Not really. But she’ll watch it, Joe replied.

    Gregg took a picture from the top drawer of his desk and showed it to, Joe. What do you think, huh?

    Joe looked at the picture of a dark haired woman standing beside an expensive beige color car. Nice car. Rolls Royce Phantom, what year is it?

    Gregg looked at the picture. I don’t know. I wasn’t talking about the car, what do you think about the gal, pretty hot don’t you think?

    She’s okay, Joe said, not looking at the picture as, Gregg showed it to him again.

    Okay?

    You want the truth or what you want to hear?

    Gregg frowned. Believe me, she’s hot.

    She’s a decent looking woman.

    You’re only saying that because you’re married. I’m glad I don’t have that problem anymore, Gregg stated. He put the picture in his desk drawer and slid it closed.

    How many years now?

    Over twenty. I don’t know, it doesn’t matter does it? I gotta go, see ya, Monday.

    Joe nodded and marked a line on a page he was reading.

    Shay, Wes, Gregg greeted, as he walked out the door.

    Still here, Joe? Shay asked, as she walked to her desk, which set across the aisle from his.

    Looks like it, doesn’t it?

    Shay flopped down in front of, Joe’s desk like a teenager and dropped a file on his desk. Looking forward to a few days off, she stated, and flipped her dark red hair behind her shoulder. How about you, Wes?

    Can’t come soon enough, he replied.

    How’s that case you’ve been working on, Wes? Joe asked, without looking at him.

    It’s not going anywhere fast. No one out there’s telling me anything and I know they know who stabbed that guy.

    Joe looked up at him. It’s a common problem in that area. Jim might be able to help you get the information.

    Wes nodded and his light brown bangs fell down into his eyes. He quickly swiped them back. You really think because he’s black they’re going to talk to him?

    Not really. People in that area they only see blue, not black or white, but you never know when someone might to talk to him.

    I’ll talk to, Jim about going out there with me and seeing if he can do any better than me. You playing golf this weekend?

    Sunday, Joe replied, as he went back to looking at the papers in front of him.

    Wes looked at, Shay. What about you, McBride?

    I’m not playing golf, but I’m planning on enjoying my long weekend. How about you, Joe? You have that case you were working on wrapped up. You’re going to take off more than, Sunday aren’t you?

    Joe nodded and turned a page. Constance is looking forward to me being home. I think we’re planting potatoes.

    You’re spending your time with her planting potatoes? Wes asked.

    Joe glanced at him. No that wasn’t the only thing they were doing, but it wasn’t any of his business.

    It’s traditional to plant potatoes on Good Friday, Shay said. She looked at, Joe. It’s not like you never see your wife. You see her as much as I see, Bruce.

    Joe looked up at her from the page he was reading.

    Well maybe not, she admitted. Anyway, not since, Nagle put you in charge of Crimes Against Persons.

    Speaking of, Nagle. She’s quitting, you knew that?

    Wes and Shay both nodded.

    And you know we have a new captain coming in, Monday?

    They both nodded.

    I hear he has some new ideas.

    Like what? Wes asked.

    I’m not sure, but I imagine we’re going to find out.

    Wes frowned. I hear he’s a real stickler on having things done promptly. He leaned against his desk. He crossed his arms across his large beer belly.

    Not to change the subject, Shay said, But have you seen that house, Sweet bought a few weeks ago? Shay asked. The thing’s huge!

    He said he had to buy a house because his daughter moved here and she’s living with him until she finds her own place, Wes stated.

    How long is he planning on her living there? Shay asked.

    I think I overheard him telling someone that she started college last week, Wes said. I be damned if I’d buy a bigger house because my kid wanted to move in with me.

    College? Shay raised her eyebrows. And who’s paying for that?

    She is I guess, Wes said. Which daughter is it that moved back here, anywhere?

    I think it’s, Mia, Shay replied. She’s his youngest. I think she’s twenty-two.

    Twenty-two, she could get her own place, Wes stated.

    You know how kids are these days.

    Wes nodded. Yeah, they don’t want to grow up.

    Shay frowned. She’s working too, isn’t she?

    Part-time for the, Bolin’s. She isn’t going to make a living doing part-time real estate.

    Shay twisted in the chair to look at him. She isn’t selling real estate; she’s working with, Susan Bolin’s horses.

    Horses? I didn’t figure someone as old as her would have horses?

    She isn’t that old.

    Hell she isn’t. She’s in her fifties.

    That isn’t old. Besides, how do you know?

    Arlene and I bought our house through one of their offices years ago, that’s when I met her husband, George. I figure he’s is in his seventies.

    Eighties.

    Wes nodded and moved some papers from the edge of his desk. That’s possible.

    He was in the Second World War, Shay stated. But with his money you think he’s going to be married to an old woman?

    What happened to his first wife?

    She passed away with cancer. It’s probably been fifteen years ago.

    He must have still been married to his first wife when me and Arlene met him.

    He’s probably been married to, Susan ten years now.

    They have kids? Wes asked.

    No, she’d been too old for that. She’s in her third marriage.

    You sure about that?

    Yeah, I’m sure. Her first husband was killed in a train accident when she was in her mid thirties. I remember that, because my brother got the call to the accident and he was telling me about it. After he died she used the money to buy her and her two girls a couple of horses and they moved out of town.

    How do you know so much about her?

    I know a friend of hers, Shay replied.

    What kind of horses does she have?

    I think he told me she has Arabians.

    Patrick Swayze’s horses, Wes stated.

    Patrick Swayze?

    My daughter, Bridgett is a big fan of his, even though he’s gone.

    Joe looked at Shay then Wes. If you people are finished, I’d appreciate if you’d go home so I can get my work done.

    Yeah, I gotta get going, Wes stated. Arlene’s fixing a special dinner this evening.

    For what? Shay asked.

    Our anniversary.

    Congratulations!

    Congratulations, Joe said. Go home, and don’t forget you’re on call this weekend.

    That’ll be my luck, Shay said, as she stood, I’ll get in the middle of a project and get called to work.

    What kind of project can you have this time of year? Wes asked, as he walked around to his desk.

    I don’t know. Maybe I’ll build a snowman.

    I don’t know with what. The snow’s all melted, Wes said. See ya, Novelli.

    Koch. Joe waved at them. He looked at the clock. He could have everything done by eight. He ran his thumb through the edges of the pages. So he hoped he could. He was sure it would be a short weekend, it always was, never failed that someone had to be ignorant and kill someone over something stupid. Maybe he’d luck out and everyone would just stay home.

    As Joe flipped a page over he

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