Little Girl Blue, a Seth and Ava Mystery

By Claudia Hall Christian

While Seth O'Malley is healing from a gun shot wound (received in The Cigarette Killer), Ava and her team is awarded a grant to look into cold cases in rural areas of Colorado with Seth as the consulting detective. No sooner than the grant is awarded, when Seth receives a request to look into the brutal murder of a young woman in Kiowa County, near the border of Colorado and Kansas.

Ava and her team discover that the girl was buried on top of a previously undiscovered archaeological site. Every step Ava takes to uncover who killed this poor young woman, the closer she gets to her own dark family history.

This novella is set in rural Colorado.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cook Street Publishing cookstreetpublishinggmail.com
• Release date: May 24, 2019
• ISBN: 9781938057670

Claudia Hall Christian

Claudia Hall Christian writes stories about good people caught in difficult situations. Her stories are addictive, heart pounding, and intense. She is the author of the Alex the Fey thriller series, the Queen of Cool, the Seth and Ava Mysteries, Suffer a Witch, Abee Normal Paranormal Investigations, and the longest consecutive serial fiction ever written, Denver Cereal. She lives in Denver where she keeps bees, gardens, hangs out with her Plott Hounds, and husband

Book preview

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Little Girl Blue

A Seth and Ava Mystery

Claudia Hall Christian

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Cook Street Publishing

Denver, CO

by

Claudia Hall Christian

StoriesbyClaudia.com

Abee Normal, Paranormal Investigations

The Case Book of Abee Normal, Paranormal Investigations, Volume 01

The Case Book of Abee Normal, Paranormal Investigations, Volume 02

Alex the Fey Thrillers

The Fey

Learning to Stand

Who I am

Lean on Me

In the Grey

Finding North

About Face

In Deep (coming 2019)

The Denver Cereal

The Denver Cereal Fort Lupton

Celia’s Puppies Fort Morgan

Cascade Fort Collins

Cimarron Olney Springs

Black Forest Manitou Springs

Fairplay Idaho Springs

Gold Hill Poncha Springs

Silt Hot Sulfur Springs

Larkspur Glenwood Springs

Firestone Pagosa Springs (2019)

Grand Junction (Denver Cereal V1-10)

Fort Garland (Denver Cereal V11-13)

The Queen of Cool

The Queen of Cool

Seth and Ava Mysteries

Tax Assassin

Carving Knife

Friendly Fire

Cigarette Killer

Little Girl Blue

Billie’s Bounce

Suffer a Witch

Suffer a Witch

Copyright © Claudia Hall Christian

ISNI: 0000 0003 6726 170X

Licensed under the Creative Commons License:

Attribution – NonCommercial – Share Alike 3.0

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ISBN-13 : 978-1-938057-66-3 (print)

978-1-938057-67-0 (digital)

Library of Congress: 2019941704

Cover credit: Amanda Walker, PA

PUBLISHER’S NOTE:

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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First edition © May 2019

Cook Street Publishing

ISNI: 0000 0004 1443 6403

PO Box 18217

Denver, CO 80218

Table of Contents

Title Page

Table of Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

The Tax Assassin

About Claudia Hall Christian

One

Ava O’Malley pushed open the door to her husband, Seth’s hospital room. His childhood friend Claire looked up from the magazine she was reading when Ava opened the door.

What’s the word? Claire asked.

They’ll give us the contract only if . . . Ava nodded toward Seth.

Let’s wake him, Claire said.

Piano prodigy and world-famous detective, Seth O’Malley had been shot a few days before. Now, he’d been confined to a hospital bed until he was stable enough to return to his home in Denver. His wife, Ava, was a forensic specialist who ran a forensic laboratory at the Denver Crime Lab.

Not one to stand on ceremony, Claire gave to Seth’s shoulder a little shake. He opened his eyes and looked at her. She nodded to Ava, who was standing at the end of the bed.

The state says that they’ll give us the grant — you know the one to review cold cases in rural Colorado . . . Ava started.

Seth’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment before he nodded.

They’ll give us the money only if you agree to be the lead detective on the cases, Ava said. She flushed and began speaking quickly. I know the timing is awful, but this grant will give counties precious forensic resources and investigative attention they don’t and won’t otherwise have. Families are waiting to learn about what happened to their loved ones and . . .

Seth’s eyes drifted closed. Ava looked at Claire. She scowled and shook Seth awake again. His eyes flicked to Claire and then to Ava.

Just nod, Claire said.

Seth nodded and collapsed back to the pillow. Claire sat back down.

That’s the best you’re going to get, Claire said.

I need his signature, Ava said.

Is that it? Claire asked.

Claire held out her hand for the piece of paper. Ava gave her the sheet and a pen. Claire signed it quickly and gave it back to Ava.

It’s likely that I’ve signed more of his signatures than he has, Claire said with a chuckle.

Ava gave her an unsure look.

When my mom started running the apartment building, women weren’t allowed to have their own checking accounts, Claire said. He wasn’t married to my mother, so she didn’t have access to the rental account. She couldn’t even deposit the checks without his signature! She had me sign his name on checks to pay workmen or whatever bills came up.

Wow, Ava said. Seth knew she was doing it?

Of course, Claire said. It was common practice at the time. It’s good that some things have changed.

You think he’ll be mad — you know, when he wakes up? Ava asked.

No more than usual. The man is mad as a hatter, Claire said with a grin. Turning more serious, she looked at Ava directly. He’d do anything for you, and he loves figuring things out. I’m sure he won’t mind at all. You’ll probably have to fight to keep him from taking over.

Ava nodded and practically jogged out of the room. If she hurried, she could fax the form to the Colorado State Department of Public Safety before they closed for the day.

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It’s about time! a male voice said as he answered the phone.

I saw that you called, said the elderly judge known to be tough on crime. I had to wait until I could respond in private.

The elderly judge looked around his large, wood-paneled office. The room had been his father’s private sanctum. For the last forty years, it had been his. He unconsciously ran his hand over the desk. He felt safe here.

You have to stop this, a familiar male voice said.

The caller’s American accent indicated his wealth and Ivy League education. The slight tremor in his words indicated his age.

She’s a child, the elderly judge said. What can she possibly do?

She’s twenty-six, the man said. She can do plenty.

She is no danger to us, the elderly judge said.

He cleared his throat of cancer-related phlegm before repeating his party’s campaign slogan.

The rural counties in Colorado have long been ignored, elderly judge said. Their cold cases deserve justice just as much as any case in Denver or Boulder or . . .

Sure, the man said, cutting the elderly judge off. That’s why we’ve been able to get away with . . .

We have to give the grant to someone, the elderly judge said. Mrs. O’Malley is Aaron Alvin’s daughter. Anything she exposes will serve only to expose her own father.

"Her dead father, the man grumbled. You can’t shame him anymore."

The elderly judge cleared his throat and took a long drink of his single-malt scotch.

She’s married to O’Malley, the man said. "You couldn’t control him before. You certainly cannot control him now."

O’Malley is currently in the hospital fighting for his life, the elderly judge said. If he recovers — and that’s a big ‘if’ — he won’t be at full capacity for at least a year. By that time, she’ll be deep into some intrigue in some backwater town.

Anything to support the rural communities, the man said, wryly.

You know that bringing justice to rural Colorado is my one true passion, the elderly judge said, with a snort of a laugh. It says so right on the website.

They laughed.

Don’t panic, the elderly judge said.

Easy for you to say, the man said.

You already destroyed the case files? the elderly judge asked.

Twenty-five years ago, the man said. But there’s no statute of limitations on murder.

"I know that, the elderly judge’s voice rose with irritation. Would you rather the board give the grant to the Colorado Bureau of Investigation?"

No, no, the man said.

This woman — child — really, is no threat to us, the elderly judge said with a derisive sniff. Just keep your mouth shut and this will blow past us. We’ll get the win for supporting the rural counties and no one will be the wiser.

The man grunted and hung up the phone. The elderly judge set the receiver down. He looked at the phone for a long while. Then, he closed his eyes and took a labored breath.

The doctor had told him six months ago that it would be a miracle if he lived out the year.

The closer he got to death, the more he heard her screams. Every time he closed his eyes, his mind flooded with the sensation of her blood and tissue splashing onto him. No matter how many times he washed, he couldn’t seem to get bits of her flesh off his skin.

He was going to hell, and soon. That was clear.

His only chance at salvation was in the hands of the daughter of that scoundrel Aaron Alvin and Seth O’Malley, a man he hated with every cell in his body.

He took a ragged breath and made the slow progression to bed. Maybe, just maybe, he would not hear her screams tonight.

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Two

Four months later

As she did every morning, Ava sat at the kitchen counter and drank her cup of coffee.

Her husband, Seth O’Malley, was usually out for his run. Their housekeeper, Maresol, was typically moving around the house to see what needed her attention. Bernie, Seth’s father, normally would be sitting in the front room, reading through no less than six international newspapers. Her friend and their handyman, Dale, wasn’t awake yet.

For about twenty minutes, Ava sat at the counter in the company of her own thoughts.

Although the details were a little different, today was no exception.

Recovering from being shot, Seth was downstairs