One Eight Seven

By H. L. LeRoy

Lt. Eve Sharpe’s mom doesn't just enjoy guilt trips she buys your ticket, packs your bag, and stamps your passport. Now she has Eve reluctantly heading to San Francisco in an effort to solve the murder of a drag queen superstar.

Teamed up with a tough-as-nails local P.I., Jillian Varela, Eve figures it'll be an easy case. But what her mom didn't tell her was that she'd be helping a Mafia don with a long list of enemies.

As the bodies begin to stack up, it becomes obvious that her mom's 'simple job' has turned into something both dangerous and deadly.

• Language: English
• Publisher: H. L. LeRoy
• Release date: Apr 17, 2020

H. L. LeRoy

Holly LeRoy is an American short story writer and novelist, author of the award winning Street Crimes anthology and the novel Hostile Earth, first in a series of young adult adventures. He has recently published a series of thrillers featuring Lt. Eve Sharpe of the Chicago Police Department. Born in San Jose, California, LeRoy currently resides in the Sierra Nevada Mountains with his family.Author Links:Blog: hlleroy.blogspot.comTwitter: @hlleroyFacebook: www.facebook.com/holly.leroy.3

Book preview

ONE EIGHT SEVEN

A Lt. Eve Sharpe/Jillian Varela Thriller

Holly LeRoy

About One Eight Seven

Lt. Eve Sharpe’s mom doesn't just enjoy guilt trips she buys your ticket, packs your bag, and stamps your passport. Now she has Eve reluctantly heading to San Francisco in an effort to solve the murder of a drag queen superstar.

Teamed up with a tough-as-nails local P.I., Jillian Varela, Eve figures it'll be an easy case. But what her mom didn't tell her was that she'd be helping a Mafia don with a long list of enemies.

As the bodies begin to stack up, it becomes obvious that her mom's 'simple job' has turned into something both dangerous and deadly.

ONE

Lieutenant Eve Sharpe

Over the past month my insomnia had been kicking my butt and the thought of flying across the country on a mission of total stupidity was almost too much for me to handle. I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my eyes while my partner, Sergeant Walt Ferguson, read the newspaper article I'd handed him. He clucked his tongue and tossed the front section of the Tribune on my desk. On page four, above the fold, was a picture of LaVerne's nightclub on Broadway in San Francisco. The lurid headline, FEMALE IMPERSONATOR FOUND SLASHED TO DEATH, told the whole story.

You really going?

I don't want to, but yeah, I don't have much choice. Mom called. LaVerne's owner is the son of her new boyfriend, and she threatened to go if I didn't.

Did I think I could help? Not really. And with her health, no way was Mom going to go. I knew that if I didn't at least make the attempt, I'd hear about it forever.

Walt patted his belly. Let's grab some breakfast. Take your mind off it. All this talk is making me hungry.

We've said two sentences.

My point exactly.

His chair made a sighing noise as he stood. You know if I don't eat I get lightheaded.

He had almost made it out of my office when he stopped and picked up the paper bag sitting on my file cabinet.

Is this your lunch?

Yes. And it's going on the plane with me.

What is it?

He opened the bag and sniffed. Smells like a Cuban sub from that deli on Congress. Pork, deli ham, Swiss cheese, bread and butter pickles, and Dijon on a roll.

Dill pickles.

No way. He pulled out half and took a bite. Mmmmm.

He smiled and took another bite. Yup. I told you. Bread and butter.

Walt, leave my lunch alone. I've got an eleven o'clock flight to catch and I'm hungry.

Suit yourself. I'm going to breakfast. I didn't move as Walt squeezed his bulk past my desk and out the door.

See you.

He and my lunch disappeared down the hall.

Oh well. I checked my watch and then looked over at the boss' office. His door was half-glazed in clear glass with Captain Pete Kelly lettered in fancy gold leaf. He sat behind his desk with his arms folded across his chest, eyes scanning the bullpen. A particularly ugly snarl of black hair squatted on top of his head. I had no idea what kind of animal it had come from, but I did have a hunch about what part of the animal had been sacrificed. I had been on his shit list for a minor case of insubordination. Okay, major. So major in fact, it made me reluctant to even come near him, let alone ask him for a favor.

As I sat there trying to talk myself out of the whole stupid idea, I saw him drop an empty bagel bag in his garbage can and smile. A scary sight. I wasn't going to find him in a better mood, so it was time for me to get in there.

However, the closer I got the more his face began to drift into a frown. By the time I reached the door he had worked up a full-fledged scowl.

I tapped on the glass and opened the door.

Hi Boss.

What do you want?

Who says I want anything?

You in about a second.

Not true. But now that you mention it, I do need to take a week off, I said.

Is that all? Kelly flapped his hand at me as if he were shooing away a fly. You've got the time coming, go.

Uh-oh. This is way too easy. The department needed me more than that. Didn't they? I held the newspaper up and pointed at the headline. "Look! My mom's boyfriend's son owns LaVerne's. He sort of needs my help. A little. But I don't have