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The Dead of the Night
The Dead of the Night
The Dead of the Night
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The Dead of the Night

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When a friend tells Harper Mackenzie that a young lawyer, running for city council, has gone missing, he had no idea what he was going to discover.
Former navy military intelligence and now, a private investigator, Harper digs into the life of Peyton Chancellor, trying to uncover the riddle. While Peyton’s friends grow concerned, Harper realizes Peyton may have unleashed the dogs of war when he promised to go after the infamous 1%.
The more Harper learns about the young lawyer, the closer he gets to the man himself.
What he finds doesn’t shock him. In a world where big money buys politicians, was it any wonder someone may have put a hit out on Peyton?
In the dead of the night, Harper is determined to find answers...
And- also finds something unexpected- he finds himself.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherGA Hauser
Release dateSep 12, 2016
ISBN9781370979943
The Dead of the Night
Author

GA Hauser

About the AuthorAuthor G.A. Hauser is from Fair Lawn, New Jersey, USA. She attended university at The Fashion Institute of Technology in NYC, and has a BA in Fine Art from William Paterson College in Wayne NJ where she graduated Cum Laude. As well as degrees in art, G.A. is a Graduate Gemologist from the Gemological Institute of America (GIA). In 1994 G.A. graduated the Washington State Police academy as a Peace Officer for the Seattle Police Department in Washington where she worked on the patrol division. She was awarded Officer of the Month in February 2000 for her work with recovering stolen vehicles and fingerprint matches to auto-theft and bank robbery suspects. After working for the Seattle Police, G.A. moved to Hertfordshire, England where she began to write full length gay romance novels. Now a full-time writer, G.A. has penned over 200 novels and short stories. Breaking into independent film, G. A. was the executive producer for her first feature film, CAPITAL GAMES which included TV star Shane Keough in its cast. CAPITAL GAMES had its Film Festival Premiere at Philly's Qfest, and its television premiere on OutTV. G.A. is the director and executive producer for her second film NAKED DRAGON, which is an interracial gay police/FBI drama filmed in Los Angeles with the outstanding cinematographer, Pete Borosh. (also the Cinematographer for Capital Games)The cover photographs of G.A.'s novels have been selected from talented and prolific photographers such as Dennis Dean, Dan Skinner, Michael Stokes, Tuta Veloso, Hans Withoos, and CJC Photography, as well as graphic comic artist, Arlen Schumer. Her cover designs have featured actors Chris Salvatore, Jeffery Patrick Olson, Tom Wolfe, and models Brian James Bradley, Bryan Feiss, Jimmy Thomas, Andre Flagger, among many others.Her advertisements have been printed in Attitude Magazine, LA Frontier, and Gay Times.G. A. has won awards from All Romance eBooks for Best Author 2009, Best Novel 2008, Mile High, Best Author 2008, Best Novel 2007, Secrets and Misdemeanors, and Best Author 2007.G.A. was the guest speaker at the SLA conference in San Diego, in 2013, where she discussed women writing gay erotica and has attended numerous writers’ conventions across the country.

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    Book preview

    The Dead of the Night - GA Hauser

    THE DEAD OF THE NIGHT

    By

    G.A.HAUSER

    Smashwords Edition

    Copyright © G.A. Hauser, 2016

    Beware the twist of fate

    Because your own hatred

    Will turn back on you

    With a vengeance.

    THE DEAD OF THE NIGHT

    Copyright © G.A. Hauser, 2016

    Cover designer: Mark A. Richfield

    ISBN Trade paperback: 978-1536-9296-9-0

    © The G.A. Hauser Collection LLC

    This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events or locales is coincidental.

    All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    WARNING

    This book contains material that maybe offensive to some: graphic language, homosexual relations, adult situations. Please store your books carefully where they cannot be accessed by underage readers.

    First The G.A. Hauser Collection LLC publication:

    October 2016

    ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: PLEASE READ-

    Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.

    WARNING:

    The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

    Chapter 1

    Harper Mackenzie rested his elbows on the bar.

    Even though smoking had been illegal inside clubs and taverns for nearly ten years, Harper could still catch the scent of nicotine in the place. But, this hole-in-the-wall hadn’t changed its décor in decades.

    He glanced at his reflection in a mirrored wall behind top-shelf liquor bottles, his light eyes and dark hair. But, he also could see how tired he was.

    The noise level was high as televisions aired sporting events, men played billiards and darts, and voices competed for the prize for loudest.

    Harper ran his fingers through his hair and sipped his double-vodka.

    When someone took the stool beside him, Harper had a look.

    I need your help.

    Harper sipped his drink, staring at Mindy Berman’s reflection in the mirrored glass.

    Harper?

    I can hear you. He met her gaze in the mirror just as the bartender approached her.

    Can I get you something? Ralph asked her.

    Just orange juice.

    Thumbing at her, Harper said, Put it on my tab.

    Oh. In that case, she said, A Cosmopolitan.

    Harper and Ralph both raised one eyebrow at her. Harper asked, Are you kidding me?

    Mindy appeared confused and then said, Okay. Can you make a screwdriver?

    Ralph picked up a tumbler.

    As Mindy set her purse on the bar and opened her coat, she seemed rushed or anxious.

    Harper finished his vodka to the ice.

    Are you drunk? she asked.

    Not yet.

    Harper, I really need your help. She paused as Ralph put her drink on a coaster. Thanks. She sipped it.

    Why? He nudged his empty glass aside.

    A friend of mine has vanished.

    Harper glanced over at Mindy. She had swiveled in the chair so her knees were facing him. What do you mean ‘vanished’?

    We can’t locate him, Harper. I’m worried. Mindy held the glass.

    After a tired sigh, Harper gave her his undivided attention. How long has he been missing?

    Um. She looked at her phone. As far as I know, twenty-four hours.

    Have the police been contacted?

    I told them but, they’re not doing anything!

    Harper was surprised by Mindy’s outburst. He knew her for years. She wasn’t impulsive or easy to ruffle. Do you think he may have just had enough of the bullshit and took a vacation?

    No. I think he’s been kidnapped.

    Hearing that, Harper made a noise of disbelief and faced the bar again. Ralph? He held up his empty glass for a refill.

    Harper! Mindy leaned closer, screaming at him.

    It was giving Harper a headache. He’d come here to unwind after an aggravating day. It was half-past eleven and he was tired.

    Ralph placed a fresh drink in front of him.

    Thanks.

    He could hear Mindy’s frustration as she blew out a breath loudly. Harper took a sip of his drink and stared at her. Why do you think he was kidnapped?

    She gulped her drink and then met his gaze. His father is Tate Chancellor.

    Harper coughed on his vodka and set the glass down, wiping his mouth. You could have started with that information.

    Mindy finished her drink quickly, as if she were going crazy. Believe me, from what I know about Peyton, he wouldn’t take off without his phone or telling someone. He’s running for city council.

    Why are you asking me to help, when his father is the biggest tobacco tycoon in the state… or maybe in the nation?

    I’m asking you because you’ll find him.

    Jesus, Mindy. Harper rubbed his eyes. His father’s got a load of cash and most likely the FBI’s already on it. What the hell can I do that’s not already being done?

    Mindy dug into her purse. She removed a photo. This is Peyton. His father may be wealthy or have powerful buddies, but, Peyton was against his dad getting rich selling cancer. She poked Harper’s shoulder with the photo. When he didn’t take it, she slapped it on the bar in front of him.

    Harper had a look. And?

    Listen to me. She leaned closer. Peyton was outspoken against his father selling tobacco products to third world countries and the poor. He was gaining traction in the polls when he vanished.

    Harper glanced at Mindy. So, you think his father did something?

    She showed her teeth and then seemed to struggle to calm down. Here’s the thing. Peyton was going to stand up against big tobacco, big pharma, gun lobbyists, to name a few.

    Harper shook his head and stared at the picture, which appeared to be taken professionally for possibly a publicity photo or newspaper.

    If his dad is the one who made him disappear, and then the bastard does nothing when he vanishes… well?

    Have you tried to tell this information to the police?

    Yes! They told me to take a hike.

    Harper finished his drink and put cash on the counter. He stood, removed his leather jacket from the back of the barstool, and with the photo in hand, he tilted his head for Mindy to follow him.

    She scrambled to put her coat on, grabbed her purse, and the two of them exited the dark tavern. It was a windy October night in Los Angeles.

    What do you know about him? Harper walked to his car.

    Enough. We have a mutual friend. You know him. Jonas. So? I know where Peyton lives, his contact numbers, where he works—

    Can I keep this? He held up the photo.

    Yes.

    Harper opened the door to his older model, black Crown Vic, one that had been retired from the LAPD. He left the photo on the dash, and removed a pen and pad from the glove compartment. He leaned on the fender, and said, Give me all you’ve got.

    Mindy turned on her phone and began tapping it with her thumbs.

    Harper watched her.

    I can text it. She bit her lower lip.

    Harper didn’t want a text. Just read me the info.

    Mindy did, giving him everything but the man’s social security number and blood type.

    He looked at the address in West Hollywood. And, you think he was going to do something controversial? Maybe go after his father?

    Yes. How coincidental is it that he vanishes right before he exposes them and gets elected?

    Does he live alone?

    Yes.

    Any pets?

    No. Mindy put her hands into her pockets as if she were cold. Why?

    Well, if he had a pet, it would lend credence to him being taken against his will. Most people don’t leave an animal alone when they go on vacation.

    He’s not on vacation!

    Harper held up his hand. I can hear you. Stop yelling.

    Fuck. Mindy closed her eyes as if she were exasperated.

    Hey. Harper touched her shoulder. I’ll look into it.

    Thank you.

    Do you know if his father is aware he’s missing?

    I have no idea. I’m not contacting that douche.

    Okay.

    Let me know what you find, and if you need anything else, call me.

    I will. He looked around the lot. Where did you park?

    Right there. She pointed.

    He walked her to her car.

    Thanks, Harper. I mean it. If anyone can figure this out, it’s you.

    I appreciate your faith in me, but I don’t have the recourses the FBI and the police do.

    No, but you’re smart. She got behind the wheel of her car.

    He shut her door and stood by as she backed out.

    They exchanged a last wave, and Harper walked to his car. He sat down and turned on the dome light. As he read the address of Peyton’s home, he took a look at the time. It was nearing midnight.

    He picked up the photo.

    In it, Peyton appeared to be young, maybe late twenties, with light eyes; either green or hazel, and dark, conservatively cut brown hair. Harper extinguished the dome light and drove to the address in West Hollywood.

    He parked near the house and turned off his engine. He sat for a while, trying to figure out if there was any police surveillance on the home. None that he could see.

    Harper opened his glove-box and removed his pistol from it. He clipped his gun to his belt, grabbed a mini flashlight, and exited his car.

    Standing away from the illumination of a streetlamp, Harper waited, observing the surrounding homes, the cars driving by, and then above for drones, which were now used for everything, including surveillance.

    As his senses began to hone in on the wind, the noise, and the movement, Harper made his way to the house.

    No lights were on inside. He inspected the windows and doors, then he checked behind him once more.

    It was Wednesday after midnight, so few cars were driving by. He noticed a fence enclosing the backyard. Harper took another scan of the neighborhood, and climbed over the wooden barrier. He landed on the lawn behind the home. Pausing to see if his movements were being spied, Harper was beginning to think Mindy’s hunch was correct. If this man had truly been kidnapped and his family was frantic, the police would be watching this house. There would be no way he would not have been seen.

    As he gave the police and FBI a few minutes to intercept him, Harper inspected the back door and windows. The wind battered the palm trees and plants around him, making noises, knocking and clacking sounds.

    Harper stood at the wooden rear door. He looked behind him at the privacy fence, and then removed his gun from its holster. He was about to tap out a small pane of glass on the door with the butt of his gun, when he tried the knob. The door was not locked. With the racket of the wind and branches banging and whistling, Harper waited, making sure he wasn’t detected. He turned the knob and opened the back door.

    He scanned the backyard, and prepared to make entry. If the house was armed, he was going to find out. He nudged the door, breaking the contact points of a security system. Nothing sounded.

    Harper paused, listening. He, then, entered the house, shutting the door behind him.

    As he looked into the kitchen of this 1960s built home, he could see it had been completely remodeled. There it was. The security system, not armed. Why was the door left unlocked?

    Harper had a look around. The living room was neat, minimalist with a white sofa and glass coffee table. The wooden vintage floor creaked as he walked on it. Harper stopped, turning his focus on sound, but it was quiet. He could see three rooms off the living area. One was a bathroom, the other a bedroom, and the last one, a den.

    He peered into the den.

    The desk had been rifled through, drawers stood open, papers were on the floor. Harper noticed frames on the wall. He took a closer look; law degrees, awards for community service, and… one from a prominent LGBTQ organization.

    The plot thickens.

    Harper turned on the lamp on the desk. He stood still, and then crouched down. There were file folders on the floor, as if someone was looking for something. Harper noticed wires lying on the desk. Peyton’s PC hard-drive was gone. Harper touched the desk and felt the dust. Since the home was

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