Your Time is Up: The River City Mysteries, #2

By Kat Jorgensen

A suspicious death

Dangerous secrets uncovered

Old relationships revealed

A sexy Russian mobster who may not be what he seems

A hunky ex-cop turned CPA with an agenda and secrets of his own

And a determined amateur sleuth with one goal - to solve the case and unmask the killer

Becca Reynolds finds herself embroiled in murder again when her best friend stumbles across a dead body. When the death of a beautiful foreigner hits too close to home, Becca decides it's once again up to her to uncover the truth, ferret out the suspects, and sort through the clues to protect those dearest to her. Not to mention, bring a killer to justice. But can she outwit the forces of evil in time to prevent more deaths? Or will a series of events force her to put her life on the line again to solve the case?

Join River City's plucky amateur detective as she fumbles her way to the truth in Your Time is Up. Book 2 of The River City Mysteries.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kat Jorgensen
• Release date: May 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9781952659010

Book preview

Chapter 1

Iowed Daisy. Big time. Several months ago she’d saved my life. Literally. Two grisly murders had been connected to Daley & Palmer, the psychiatric practice where I work here in Richmond, Virginia. In a flash of brilliance, or so I thought at the time, I’d set myself up as a target to draw out the murderer. What was I thinking? My plan worked all too well, and I’d almost been killed. But thanks to Daisy, the killer hadn’t succeeded in making me, Becca Reynolds, Victim Number Three. Hallelujah! 

Like I said, I owed her.

Since that awful day, I’d made a pledge to find ways to repay Daisy for the gift of life. So far my repayment consisted of visits and small outings. I know it doesn’t sound like much based on all she did for me. But I had to tread carefully. Daisy’s brother, R.J. Ryder, hunky ex-cop turned CPA (not that I really believed he was a CPA, but that was his story, and he was sticking to it), seemed equally determined to keep Daisy safe from as he called it, my insane ideas - his word choice, not mine.  

You see, things seem to happen to me that don’t happen to ordinary people. I don’t look for trouble. But it has a bad habit of finding me. 

As Daisy’s big brother, Ryder appointed himself her guardian and formed a super protective bubble around her. He took a dim view of anyone trying to insinuate themselves into his sister’s life. Even me. 

No, especially me. But I kind of understand that, too. My track record speaks for itself. And not in a good way.

Daisy isn’t like other people. Several years ago, she’d been in some sort of horrific accident, the details of which remain a mystery to me. Since then she’s been in and out of rehab and therapy, leaving her with physical, mental, and emotional damage. Ryder vowed no further harm would come to his fragile sister. Not on his watch, as he often put it to me. And I had a feeling he considered his watch ran 24/7/365, 366 if it was a leap year.

Initially, I’d met Daisy when she sought treatment with our practice for her post-accident emotional and mental scars. After my little event with the deranged killer, Ryder had removed Daisy from Daley & Palmer in an effort to keep her safe. But the other therapists he selected bombed out. And Daisy, in an uncharacteristic show of defiance, had insisted Dr. Dick Daley resume her therapy. Good for her! 

Part of Daisy reclaiming her life meant she had to be able to stand up to others every now and then, her big brother included. At least I thought so. But what did I know? Ryder often pointed out to me that just because I worked for therapists, it didn’t make me one. Kill joy.

Where Daisy was light itself, with her white-blonde hair, pale coloring, and petite frame, Ryder was the exact opposite. Tall. Tan. Broad-shouldered. Shaved head that made him appear edgy and not to be messed with. Muscled without looking like some steroid gym rat. Fit.  Really fit. Hot. Oh mama, hot! 

But I digress.  

The one thing that showed their kinship was their incredible blue eyes. Eyes you could easily get lost in. Eyes that had seen too much and still hid a lot from the rest of the world. Both Ryder and Daisy harbored secrets. That much I knew for sure. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever learn what either one of them kept private, but I’d come to terms with that. Sort of. My main goal, as always, was to be a part of Daisy’s life and get her out and about. 

Get her back in the world of the living - with Ryder’s somewhat reluctant blessings.  

Tonight I’d decided to take Daisy out for dinner. Just a fast-food meal. Nothing fancy. Ryder claimed he needed to work late. Whatever. The man sure didn’t keep normal 9-5 business hours. When we’d talked briefly, he’d actually mentioned he was glad Daisy wouldn’t be alone tonight. That kind of shook me up. Whenever Ryder praised me, even in his offhand manner, the full alert gong sounded in my brain. No screw-ups tonight. Everything must go perfectly. Or my ass would be grass with Ryder. And that mattered to me. I respected R.J., and I wanted to earn his respect in return.  

On the way to Daisy’s, I pulled out my cell phone at a stoplight and checked for missed messages and voice mails. But there were none. Crap.

No word from Max. Or my Max as I’d preferred to think of him.

Max Chernov, sexy Russian bad boy with connections to the local mob. We’d met at the police station during the murder investigation. Not the best way to meet a guy, as my Granddad pointed out to me whenever the subject came up.

Max made my skin prickle and my body hum in the best way possible. Two months ago, the last time I’d seen him, he’d hugged me in a moment when I’d needed it most and whispered moya lyubov to me, which I’d later found out from Daisy means my love in Russian.  

And that was the last time I’d seen or heard from Max.

So much for my love life.  

 But tonight wasn’t about me. It was about Daisy. As soon as my trusty, rusty, ancient Honda pulled up in front of the home she shared with Ryder, she rushed outside.

Becca!

My heart melted. Daisy could sometimes be exasperating. She seemed to view the world through the eyes of a child. And often displayed the temperament of a child. But who could stay angry at Daisy? Not me. Just seeing her made me smile. A smile that started deep inside of me and radiated outward. Daisy, what’s shaking?

She appeared confused as she hopped in my car and checked herself to see what I saw shaking on her that she didn’t see or probably feel.

No, no. Nothing is shaking. It’s a figure of speech, I tried to explain. Her brow remained creased. I tried again. It’s a different way to say hello. Her forehead relaxed as she took it in and tried to process it.

We go, she commanded in that imperial royal way she often assumed.

Yep. I made sure she put her seat belt on and snugged it up.  

Where? she asked staring straight ahead as if I were her servant or hired driver. Driving Miss Daisy indeed.

I was used to her one and two-word sentences. She’d come a long way from the silent world she’d once inhabited after the accident. Dr. Daley was doing a great job helping her to communicate. I suspected it was no longer a matter of her not being able to talk, as much as an emotional/mental issue of choosing not to speak. Something held her back. And I longed to unlock the mystery and free her from her prison - whether self-imposed or not.   

Where? she turned to me and repeated.

Arby’s up in Short Pump, I replied. It seemed to satisfy her because a smile formed on her lips and curved upwards. So, you like Arby’s, I stated, happy I’d picked a place she would enjoy. But her smile disappeared. Hmmm, wonder what that was about.

We’re eating inside. Not just going through the drive-through, I said, hoping that would perk her up. But I saw no change in her expression. Oh well. 

I knew crowds made Daisy nervous. I tried to expose her to more people - a little at a time. For that reason, I’d picked an early dinner time for us in hopes the workday crowds wouldn’t be out in force yet.  

We parked, and I got our orders sorted out and made sure Daisy stayed with me. She had a bad habit of bolting when she got freaked out. Couldn’t say I blamed her. Many things in life freaked me out on a daily basis.  

I found us a booth with a window view in hopes Daisy might stay calmer if she could see outside. Our food arrived quickly, and we made small talk as we ate. 

Well, mostly I talked and Daisy listened.  

Have you heard from Max lately? I couldn’t help myself. Daisy and Max shared a friendship, much to R.J.’s disapproval.   

A quick shake of her head. Crap. Had the man dropped off of the face of the earth? A nagging little worry crept up inside of me, but I fought it down. 

Nothing could happen to Max.  My Max. 

I wouldn’t allow it. Not that I could prevent anything bad. He did associate with some pretty unsavory characters from time to time. But I knew in my heart, despite how it appeared, Max Chernov was one of the good guys.  

We were almost through with our meal when a family of five settled into the booth right behind Daisy. The youngest child was about eighteen months old and found Daisy’s silky hair very much to his liking. She winced as he put his gooey hands on her shoulders and fingered her hair momentarily transfixed. To her credit, Daisy sat there and took it, instead of running out the door as I expected. She closed her eyes and slid over in the booth, out of the child’s reach. 

Or so she thought. Soon the child had tracked her down and squealed in delight. 

Daisy froze in her seat and stiffened. 

The toddler let out an ear-splitting scream when one of his siblings denied something he thought should be his. 

Daisy scooted over closer to the window, hoping to lose the child.

But he was one tenacious kid. He grabbed Daisy around the neck and hugged her, while I held my breath. She pried his fingers loose, took a napkin, and wiped the ends of her hair. Wow, this was going better than I’d expected.  

But the third time the chubby little boy put his grubby, food covered hands on her, Daisy jumped up.  

RUDE! she yelled at the parents. Bad boy, she said to the child, shaking her index finger at him. And then, Daisy made a bee-line for the exit.

I grabbed our drinks, prepared to follow Daisy. 

The parents shot me a stare like it was my fault for Daisy’s outburst. Geesh. 

RUDE, I yelled as I passed them, headed for the exit. Let them figure it out. I refrained from the bad boy comment and the finger-wagging to the toddler. Besides, he’d moved on to bothering one of his siblings.

My immediate concern was Daisy. I had to catch up to her. The last thing I needed was for her to get hit by a car in the busy parking lot.

Wait up, Daisy, I yelled, but either she didn’t hear me or chose to ignore me. So, I kicked it into high gear and raced after her, catching up to her at the curb just before she stepped into the path of an oncoming car. A horn blared. I threw my arm out and pulled her back managing to spill a good chunk of my Coke all down her lovely white top. RUDE.

When my heartbeat finally settled back down from the scare, I stood there with the Coke cup in my hands and didn’t say a word. 

Daisy turned toward me and checked out her stained, wet shirt, and the empty cup laying in the gutter.

Thanks. Her voice sounded tiny and apologetic. I almost didn’t hear her.

I set what was left of the drinks down on a nearby outdoor table and hugged her. She shook all over. What’s shaking, indeed?

"It’s okay. We’re okay. Parents should have better control over their kids. I mean, if they can’t sit there and act right, they shouldn’t be out in public. 

At least that’s how I was raised. 

Even now, if I had bad table manners, Granddad would kill me."

At the word kill, Daisy’s body went rigid.  Way to go, Becca.

I don’t mean kill literally. It’s a figure of speech. I just needed to shut up, because clearly by Daisy’s reaction I’d made things worse.

She pointed at something, and I moved around her to try to see what she indicated. The movies? 

Daisy wanted to go to the movies? 

"No, we don’t have time for that. 

I have to have you back home in less than an hour. Ryder won’t be happy if we’re gone too long." Or if he’d known his sister had almost been hit by a car. It would be the last time he’d let her go out with me.

Even with the mention of her brother’s name, Daisy took a step forward. I grabbed hold of her thin arm and jerked her back toward me. Cars sped through the parking lot. Daisy was far too unpredictable. If I released her, I was terrified she’d run to whatever had caught her attention without a thought for her personal safety. Stay here with me. I tugged on her arm gently for emphasis. 

But she continued to pull and gesture wildly, straining at my touch. 

Where do you want to go? She yanked with a strength I didn’t know she possessed.

Ice! Ice, now!!! 

Frantically, I searched for an ice cream parlor but didn’t see one. Damn. 

I tried to recall where the nearest ice cream shop was located and realized it was a good two blocks away across busy Broad Street. No way had Daisy seen it from here.

ICE, Daisy demanded.

 No wonder Daisy and Higgins, Granddad’s cranky, spoiled cat, got along so well. 

They were both very single-minded and loud when they wanted something.

We have to get into the car to get ice cream, I said in my most soothing voice, even though I really wanted to scream at her. 

But she was Daisy. And I just couldn’t.  

No ice. ICE!

Okay, that made no sense to me. None. She pulled away from the direction of Broad Street and moved toward the buildings located behind Arby’s. I let her guide me, as I continued to keep a firm grip on her and watch out for parking lot traffic.  

And then I spotted it. The skating rink. The ice skating rink. Daisy wanted to go to the skating rink? I asked her, and she nodded vigorously. She made a move to sprint toward it, but somehow I managed to lead her back to my Honda.  

She grabbed and tugged on the handle, anxious to get in and get going. I checked my watch. We still had a good fifty-five minutes before we turned into pumpkins on Ryder’s doorstep. 

Not perfect, but doable.

Okay, let’s do this, I said as I settled into the driver’s seat.

After a quick drive over to the ice skating rink’s parking lot, I confirmed one last time that this was what she wanted. Daisy was like a five-year-old waiting to see Santa Claus. Antsy. Excited beyond normal excitement. Twitchy that I wasn’t being quick enough for her.

Oh yeah. She wanted this. Bad. 

How could I deny her?

She tried to race into the building, but the admissions guy stopped her part of the way through, a lit cigar drooping from the corner of his mouth. Ten dollars each. He held out his hand. Skate rental included.

Daisy thrust crumpled bills into the man’s hand and dragged me after her.

She high-tailed it up to the skate rental window and said, Five. The pimply-skinned teenage kid behind the counter pulled a dainty pair of ladies’ figure skates down and turned them over to her. She gestured for me to give him my size. I shook my head. It had been years since I’d been on the ice. I probably couldn’t even stand up anymore.  

Hurry! she admonished.

I watched as Daisy laced the first skate like she knew what she was doing. And I considered my options. I could wait off the ice and watch as Daisy broke one or more bones. Then when Ryder found out what I’d let his sister do, I could count my own broken bones. 

Clearly, a lose-lose proposition. I really had no choice.

Nine, I said to the skate attendant. The kid leaned over the counter and stared at my less than petite feet. Nine, I repeated rather emphatically this second time. 

He forked over a pair of beat-up ladies’ skates that looked like Sasquatch could wear them.  

Thanks, I muttered.

Daisy was almost through lacing and adjusting her second skate before I got a handle on my first one. But to her credit, she waited for me. Despite her excitement, I think she knew she’d be in big doo-do with both Ryder and me if she ventured out onto the ice alone.  

Standing on the thin blades and unable to feel the circulation to my lower legs or feet any longer, I indicated that I had to make an adjustment. Daisy motioned for me to sit down and expertly untied and retied my skates after checking the tension on the laces. It was clear to me that Ryder had taken her skating before. Secure in that knowledge, I relaxed a bit. If he’d taken her, surely he wouldn’t fault me for this in any way shape, or form. Phew. What a relief! 

I stood again. This time it was like magic. Not only could I feel my feet and lower legs, but I could also move easily like I was wearing street shoes. Hmmm ... this had never happened before. Daisy had mad skills. I gave her a thumbs-up as she leveled her gaze at me. Then she yanked on me, urging me to the door leading to the ice. 

We entered the ice arena, and I giggled along with Daisy, caught up in her excitement. Immediately the cold struck me. I wasn’t dressed for ice skating, and neither was Daisy in that thin slip of a summer top she wore, especially since I’d spilled the remains of a sticky soda on it. Wow, I hadn’t thought this one through. What else was new?

But we were here now. I’d let her try to skate around the outside of the rink holding on to the boards a couple of times, and then tell her we had to go. If she made it around the boards. Me, I was planning on sticking close to them. They were my safety net. Usually, it took me about thirty minutes to an hour to feel safe enough to leave those boards and venture out onto the ice. Those thin, little skate blades always amazed me. And ice, well, ice was slippery with or without skates.  

Daisy and I maneuvered down the arena steps toward the ice, her steps lighter and faster than mine. She reached the opening, removed her skate guards, and entered the ice. Oh NO!

I clunked after her trying not to trip and kill myself. Thank goodness I’d shoved our purses into a locker before I’d put on my skates. 

Clearly, I was off-balance enough on the thin blades without juggling two monster handbags. Daisy! Wait up!

She stopped and turned around. And my heart stopped. Usually, whenever I did a quick turn on the ice, it resulted in a down-she-goes movement. But to my surprise, Daisy remained upright and waited for me to reach her.

Okay, here goes nothing. I entered the rink and immediately felt my ankles weaken and my various body parts move in all different directions. My hands and arms grasped the backer board, while my feet and legs slid forward leaving me twisted like a pretzel. I heard a melodic laugh and peeked toward the sound. Daisy. I’d never seen her so amused. Not even by Higgins. And trust me, that cat could amuse Daisy.  

She held out her hand to me to come out further on the ice, but I shook my head. So, she steered me to the boards where she tried to arrange me in something that resembled a human form. Stay, she announced in her gentle voice.  

No problem. I had no intention of trying to move.  

But how was I going to protect Daisy if I was glued to the backer boards? We should come back later. Brilliant. How lame could I get?  

Daisy shook her head and edged backwards away from me. Damn. 

Even if I took one hand off of the boards, I couldn’t reach her, not unless she chose to come back to me. And I got the distinct feeling that wasn’t in her plan at all.

Since it was dinner time, the ice was almost empty. 

There were a few show-offs doing spins or skating backwards. I dismissed them and focused all of my attention on Daisy while I said a silent prayer for her safety. And mine.

She moved tentatively at first, but I had to admit, she could skate. No floppy ankles, no fighting or struggling to gain her balance. She stayed out of the center of the ice where the show-offs hogged the space. I forced myself to do a hand over hand thing and pull myself along the boards. I made slow progress but progress nonetheless. Still way behind Daisy, I comforted myself with the knowledge that if she fell, I could get to her. My ankles and legs grew more accustomed to the ice as I dragged myself along. Thank goodness there was no one here who knew me. 

It was not a pretty sight. Quasimodo meets the Ice Capades.

Daisy skated along the perimeter, gaining speed. 

Too much speed. Visions of her plowing into one of the boards or going straight when she should turn and flying off the ice into the spectator portion of the rink raced through my brain. That could result in a nasty fall. Ask me how I know. I dragged myself faster and my feet did a little see-saw routine on the ice. 

I fought desperately to regain my balance resembling something from a skit out of the Keystone Kops from old silent movies.

Daisy continued to speed up. What the heck was she thinking? Her flowy top swirled about her body, and she moved across the ice like a bird flying across the sky. Free. That’s what she was. She skated as if she was free. Free from impairments. Free from her brother’s cautious ways. Free from therapy. Free from everything. She was graceful, and I stared at her absolutely mesmerized.

And then she jumped. I turned loose of the boards and almost fell before regaining my death grip. It was a simple single jump in the air. But it was so much more. Fluid, graceful. Light and airy. Ethereal.

She sped up again, this time going backwards. 

Oh my god! Ryder was going to kill me. A slow and painful death. Yep, that’s what was in store for me.  

And then she jumped again. Two full rotations this time. The other skaters moved to the boards to give her the full ice. 

Daisy took center ice like she owned it. 

And did one of the most perfect spins I’d ever seen. Exiting a spin that would have left me dizzy and disoriented, she glided across the ice and skated to music only she heard. Her jumps were flawless. Her spins spectacular. I was in awe, as was the ever-growing crowd watching her if I could judge by their riveted attention and the silence in the arena.

After almost three minutes of first-rate skating, Daisy ended her routine at center ice. And then, with her right hand over her heart and her head bowed slightly, she curtsied. She turned ninety degrees and curtsied again. And repeated this move until she had acknowledged all four walls in the arena, one at a time. I held my breath and didn’t even know why.  

As for Daisy, she paused and then raised her head and opened her eyes. Wide. Something or someone had spooked her. I didn’t know if it was something or someone real or completely in Daisy’s imagination. Or even a memory from another time or place. 

Daisy skated off of the ice, disappearing into the darkness across the rink from where I stood precariously. Whatever had spooked her, I had to get off of the ice and go after her.

The other skaters went back to what they were doing before Daisy had interrupted them.  

She is exquisite.

I knew that voice. Marie Fedorova, one of Dr. Daley’s patients - damn, one of his clients. Would I never get that right? Turning too quickly and not holding on, I fell rather unceremoniously to the ice. Hard. I tried to get back to my feet, but couldn’t gain purchase even when I tried to employ the toe picks. I chunked up the ice big time in the spot where I wallowed, trapped by my own making.

Marie came to my rescue and got me to my feet and off of the ice. I’d never been so happy to see tacky indoor/outdoor carpeting in my life. I’ve got to find Daisy.

Not waiting to hear what Marie said, I put on the skate guards and hobbled off. It took me forever to get to the place in the ice rink where I’d last seen Daisy. Glancing around, I saw no trace of her. Damn. Ryder would kill me dead if I lost his sister.  

Marie approached. Problems?

My friend. The one who skated. I’ve lost her. I laughed nervously. The hysteria quietly bubbling beneath the surface.

Let’s see if we can find her then, shall we? Marie led the way toward a corridor hidden off to the left. She strode with purpose while I continued to clunk behind her, trying hard to keep up.

This is the most likely way, Marie said as I huffed