Slick Deal

By Janet Elizabeth Lynn and Will Zeilinger

On the eve of the New Year, 1956, oil tycoon, Oliver Wright dies suspiciously at a swanky Hollywood New Years Eve party. Some think it was suicide.
His death is soon followed by threats against the rest of his family.
Private Investigator Skylar Drake and his partner Casey Dolan are hired by an L.A. gangster to protect the family and solve Oliver’s mysterious death.
Clues lead them to Avalon, on Santa Catalina Island, a Hollywood movie star playground.
A high profile scandal, mysterious women, treason and more deaths complicate matters, putting Drake and his partner in danger.
Twenty-three miles may not seem far away but false identity and corruption on this island could squash their efforts to answer the question—How in the world can a dead man commit suicide?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shorebird
• Release date: Mar 15, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370849024

Janet Elizabeth Lynn

Janet has been writing for 10 years and writes mysteries. She has traveled to the far corners of the globe for work and pleasure. A semi retired clinical speech pathologist she loves to garden and play with her 7 year old niece Jenny. She lives in Southern California with her husband, Bill.

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Slick Deal • Lynn/Zeilinger

SLICK DEAL

A Skylar Drake Mystery

Copyright © 2018

Janet Elizabeth Lynn and Will Zeilinger

All rights reserved.

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-370849024

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please visit your favorite ebook retailer to purchase your own copy.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover design by Those Designers

We dedicate this novel to all the wonderful,

hard-boiled mystery writers who came before.

Their stories and wit encouraged us

to write the Skylar Drake Mystery Series.

Other Books by

Will Zeilinger and Janet Elizabeth Lynn

Skylar Drake Mystery Series

•Slivers of Glass

•Strange Markings

•Desert Ice

Janet Elizabeth Lynn

www.janetlynnauthor.com

Murder Mysteries

• South of the Pier

• West of the Pier

• East of the Pier

• North of the Pier

Cozy Mysteries

• Eggnog

• Charlotte Russe

• Crepes Suzette

Cookbooks

• Recipes from the novel

Eggnog Cookbook

• Recipes from the novel

Crepes Suzette Cookbook

• Recipes from the novel

Charlotte Russe Cookbook

• The Pier Mysteries Cookbook

Will Zeilinger

www.willzeilingerauthor.com

• The Naked Groom

• Something’s Cooking at Dove Acres

• The Final Checkpoint

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

We would like to thank everyone who so willingly gave their time and memories by providing us with valuable, historical information about 1950s Avalon on Santa Catalina Island, Long Beach, and Signal Hill , California.

A special thank you to:

Elizabeth Seabranch and her daughter Kristine Baker.

Ken Davis, and Dottie Frazier May for their time and willingness to share fantastic memories of Long Beach and Signal Hill in the 1950s.

Frankie of Avalon, our tour guide of the Avalon Casino for his wealth of information on historic Avalon.

The Los Angeles County Library, Avalon Branch, The Catalina Museum, The Long Beach Public Library, and The Long Beach Writers Critique Group for their patience and detailed help. Without this community of people and others, this book would never have been completed.

CHAPTER ONE

Almost midnight. I was working security for the New Year’s Eve bash at the posh Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel with my partner Casey Dolan. The rented tuxedos we were wearing made us look like we belonged with the rich crowd down on the ballroom floor, but we were working. This was one of the most exclusive parties in the city. I’d been here before and I’ve never known any other hotel with the kind of history this place had. Our job tonight was to keep an eye out for trouble...and I suppose this was a much better way to greet the new year than sitting at home in front of the television with a bottle of whiskey. As a matter of principle, I didn’t take security work. But Dolan thought D&D Investigations would benefit from this job by keeping the lights on and paying our secretary. He was right.

I scanned the crowd and checked my watch—a minute before midnight. The noise level in the room escalated with anticipation. I spotted Dolan at his post under an archway on the other side of the room and smiled. He nodded. From my spot on the catwalk above the ballroom floor I watched as they counted down the last seconds—five, four, three, two… Just as the clock on stage struck midnight, the room exploded with shouts, horns, balloons, and a snowstorm of confetti. The band played Auld Lang Syne while a banner unfurled above the bandstand that proclaimed: HAPPY NEW YEAR 1956.

It seemed as though everyone in the world was dancing, hugging, and kissing. My mind disappeared into the past. I remembered my late wife, Claire, and how we celebrated every New Year together. Even when she was big with our daughter, Ellie, Claire was stunning. I pulled out my wallet and gazed at her photo. I miss you honey, so very much.

A man’s voice boomed over the P.A., Is there a doctor in the house? My dream with Claire evaporated. I looked down at the stage where a man had grabbed the microphone from the band leader’s hands and shouted, We need help in the main lobby.

I motioned for Dolan to stay put while I ducked behind the heavy drapes and crossed the hall to the lobby mezzanine. Fourteen steps would take me down to the lobby floor. I think I only used five. My hand automatically went to my holster, just in case. Pushing through the crowd, I found a portly man on his back in a pool of blood on the terracotta-tiled floor. A tuxedo-clad man loosened the tie of the victim but I knew he was gone. I'd seen that vacant look a hundred times back when I worked LAPD homicide.

Somewhere in the crowd I heard Make way please, we're nurses. A couple of women in evening gowns appeared. I held the curious crowd back while the women knelt on the bloody floor and checked for a pulse. One shook her head and placed a lacy handkerchief over the dead man's face.

Screaming sirens outside announced the arrival of the police. Partygoers scrambled. More than a few were probably here with someone other than the one to whom they were legally and lawfully wed. I identified myself as hotel security to the first officers to come through the door.

You were first on the scene? one asked.

I nodded. Me and about a hundred other people.

You see this happen? I shook my head. Another officer shouted to the crowd, Anybody here see this happen?

More police swarmed the lobby with news reporters on their heels. I wasn't surprised. This party attracted reporters like flies on a dead cat. All around camera flashbulbs popped, making the room as bright as day.

Someone grabbed my arm. I looked into the eyes of a dark-haired woman wearing a full-length fur coat. With all the commotion, I thought she was a tipsy guest who wanted to kiss me. Instead, she pulled in close and whispered in my ear, Please help me get out of this place. I can’t be seen here. She turned her back to the cameras. With one hand, she yanked the combs from her hair and let it cascade down to her shoulders. She had the aroma of flowers. Then she turned up the collar of her fur coat to cover part of her face. Tears rolled down her cheeks. I saw the desperation in her eyes.

Please. She squeezed my arm. I don’t know this hotel.

The elevators and outside doors were blocked by uniformed cops. I whisked her toward a side room.

A cop in a cheap brown suit noticed us walking away and yelled, Hey, you two. Get back here. I used to be a cop and I knew one when I saw one. This guy was probably a plainclothes detective. You're interfering with a police investigation, he yelled.

Maybe we should go back. She stopped. I’d hate to get you into trouble.

Believe me. It wouldn’t be the first time. This way.

I noticed her striking resemblance to Ava Gardner. I pulled her along and headed to an empty room.

The cop caught up with us as I pushed open the door and turned on the light. I pulled out my PI license. He grabbed it from my hand just as I moved my jacket to show him my gun.

Oh hell. Skylar Drake. I should have known. He tossed my license back. Why do you have to mess around with this investigation?

You have your job and I have mine. I nodded toward the raven-haired beauty standing behind me.

You stay put, Drake, while we sort this out. I held up three fingers in a Boy Scout salute. He frowned and backed out the door.

I reached into my tuxedo jacket pocket and handed her my business card. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows went up. Skylar Drake, Private Investigator.

I nodded. Now I need to get back to work.

I can’t be seen here. Her tearful emerald green eyes sparkled in the light. May I count on you to be discreet?

My mind raced with a hundred things she wanted me to be discreet about.

Another plainclothes detective from my old precinct stormed in. I remember him as a real blowhard. Drake. What the hell are you doing here?

Working and I was just leaving. I nodded to the woman. Nice to have met you, miss.

Before the detective could get out another word, I slipped out the door and walked back to the lobby.

I checked the time—two a.m. The police had finished with most of the guests and allowed them to leave. The party was over. My job was done.

CHAPTER TWO

I looked out the window...it was a new day and a new year. Sunday, January first, three p.m. I’d slept the morning away. Why didn’t this day seem any different? I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening going over the blueprints of my new gym. I liked it. There wasn’t anything open for dinner except a pizza place down the block. Since New Year’s Day fell on Sunday, the Rose Parade and Rose Bowl game weren't going to be held until tomorrow. It was five p.m. when I left the pizzeria. On the walk home I passed by a bar. Music and chatter leaked out of the place. The thought of spending the rest of New Year's Day in my dark, cold living room with the TV was unbearable. I stopped and walked in.

* * *

I woke up the next day too late to see the TV broadcast of the Rose Parade. I'd agreed to meet Dolan at the office after the game to go over some ideas for making D & D Investigations more profitable. UCLA was losing so I headed to the office early. The busses were running, so I caught one that dropped me off in front of the office. The streets were quiet at four p.m. No rush hour traffic and smelly car exhaust.

I found the office door unlocked. Something was wrong. I could smell cigar smoke. Instinctively, my hand went for my gun. I stood to the side and pushed the door open. As soon as I stepped inside I could see the door to the inner office was ajar. Dolan and I always kept it locked unless we were here. Smoke drifted through the slender opening. Using the barrel of my gun, I swung the door open. The desk light was switched on. Sitting behind my desk smoking a big Cuban cigar was Softy Moreno. A big goon stood to either side of him. I wasn’t going to bother asking how he got in. One of the biggest mobsters in L.A. didn’t need a key to get in anywhere.

You take my secretary again? You ever get tired of these shenanigans? I holstered my gun and pulled up a chair. Don’t tell me you pulled the Vegas stunt again.

Nah, we did not take anyone you know against their will. He snapped his finger and the two goons stepped out, closing the door behind them. I’ve graciously provided Miss Lory Carrington and her hapless boyfriend with two books of tickets to that new Disneyland place and enough money for dinner.

Is that a fact? I hope they were E-tickets. You been there?

He shrugged. Hell no. That place is for kids.

The smoke was thick. Keeping my eyes on him, I walked around the desk and opened the window a few inches. Softy got up, straightened his necktie and leaned against the wall next to the door then flicked his cigar ash into the trash can.

I want you to do me a favor, Drake. He took a long draw and blew a smoke ring my way.

The answer’s no.

Do not be so hasty. He shifted his weight to the other foot. You have yet to hear my request.

Why should I listen to anything you have to say after you kidnapped my partner and wounded my secretary in Vegas last year?

Drake. I admit those events were a bit harsh but necessary. For that, I am truly remorseful.

Like hell.

You got them back in one piece, didn't you? He pointed his cigar at me. That, my friend, is very unusual.

I took over my desk and sat down in my chair.

Softy let the smoke from his cigar leak out of his nostrils before he took a breath, The unfortunate man who died at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel New Year’s Eve party was Oliver Wright, a big shot oil tycoon. He lived on Catalina Island with his family, but his business is down in Long Beach.

So what? There were a lot of high rollers at that shindig.

It has also come to my attention that Mr. Wright's right-hand man, Richard Yale, is missing.

I repeat, so what?

I don’t care for what’s happening with the Wright family, Softy said. They are a fine family and they need protection. I also want you to find Richard Yale.

No.

He reached inside his coat like he was going for his gun. I did the same.

Relax, Drake. I’m not going to shoot you. He pulled out a folded newspaper and tossed it on my desk. There on the front page of the Herald, in black and white, was a big story on Oliver Wright’s death along with photographs. If I were in your shoes, I’d take this job.

Why does it matter to you whether or not I take a job?

He scowled at my response. Your secretary, Lory, and her aunt are...nice people. It would be a real tragedy if some harm should befall them.

I slipped around the desk and stood a foot from his nose. You wouldn’t dare.

Of course I would never do such a thing. He grinned. However, one never knows what could befall even the nicest of people.

I backed up.

He took a drag on his cigar and blew another smoke ring. Wright’s direct competitor in the oil business is a Mr. Fred Ames. He’s an honest businessman, but I will wager that he’ll be accused of causing Oliver Wright’s death. He’s the obvious suspect and I want you to make sure he is not wrongly accused of Wright’s death or Yale’s disappearance.

Why?

Fred Ames is my younger brother.

I was having trouble believing Softy’s parents would have another kid after seeing how this one turned out.

I sat at the desk. If he’s your brother, why does he have a different last name?

That's none of your business, but since you asked, people have become more suspicious of those with foreign-sounding names. Freddy thought a more non-ethnic sounding name would assist him in business.

That’s all well and good, but how do you know he wasn’t involved?

Freddy has an alibi for the time in question.

What kind of alibi?

Softy looked me in the eye while he exhaled another cloud of smoke. Freddy and his daughter Eve were at my place having dinner with me.

I thought for a second. Could he be telling the truth for once? As far as the police are concerned, that's really not a credible alibi, I said.

Hey, Eve was with us, he added.

Cops still wouldn’t buy it.

That's exactly why you have to take this job, Drake. He stubbed out his cigar in the ashtray on my desk. Do not monkey with me. I know you need the money.

What makes you think...?

Let’s just say that I know your extracurricular...ventures haven’t been working out. Prestigious Studios, your gym, your sorry little TV show and...

Okay, Softy. So you did your homework. I’ll give you an A for that.

A sly grin appeared on his lips.

Hold on, Moreno. I didn’t say yes. I have to discuss this with my partner. He needs to be on board with this. I can’t bodyguard a whole family and investigate two crimes on my own.

He walked over to the window. I sat down, swiveled in my chair to keep him in my view.

You will take the job, find Mr. Yale, and you will keep my brother out of trouble.

That wasn’t a question.

Supposing I can’t.

I was noticing your gym is starting to take shape after the fire. Perhaps I should visit it when you have an open house. You are planning to have one I assume. I know a great florist.

Softy pulled an embossed leather cigar case from his pocket. He opened it and took out a fresh Corona. After snipping off the end, he dragged it beneath his nose and breathed in the aroma. I know you don’t much care for me. He put it between his lips. I’m fine with that. Softy lit it, took a drag and said, The feeling is mutual. I don’t know of a better man for the job or I wouldn’t have recommended you to the Wright family.

You’ve already told them? A bit presumptuous, wouldn’t you say.

He folded his arms and smiled. Never presumptuous, Drake. Never. His smile disappeared. The minute I think you are screwing with my business or my family... He blew a big cloud of smoke into the room. If I sense you’re endangering those two things, I will cease to be a nice person. Got it?

He snapped his fingers. The other goon stepped in and handed Softy his hat and held the door open.

The Wrights will pay you for protecting them and finding out who killed Oliver. I will pay you to keep an eye on Eve and Freddy. I will match what they are paying you. The important thing is that my brother is not to know I’m involved. Got it?

Softy stopped in front of the mirror and put on his hat. Remember Drake, I am sincerely concerned for Lory and her family’s well-being. You should be too. I know you will do what is in their best interest. He left with his goons in tow.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

* *