The Mysterious Disappearance of Charlene Kerringer

By Marlena Frank

Detective Harris is a private detective who is out of luck and out of cash. When a woman walks into his office in tears, he decides to take a gamble on what he assumes is an open and shut case. What he doesn't realize is that nothing about this case is normal.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marlena Frank
• Release date: Nov 29, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393683919

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The Mysterious Disappearance of Charlene Kerringer

THE MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE OF CHARLENE KERRINGER

MARLENA FRANK

Copyright © 2019 by Marlena Frank

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, Characters, Places, and Events are products of the author’s imagination, and are used factitiously. These are not to be construed or associated otherwise. Any resemblance to actual locations, incidents, organizations, or people (living or deceased) is entirely coincidental.

CONTENTS

The Mysterious Disappearance of Charlene Kerringer

Also by Marlena Frank

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THE MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE OF CHARLENE KERRINGER

There are few things that get me more riled up than dames. For most of them I’ve learned over the years just to take it in stride, but of course that doesn’t work all the time. One dame in particular really got under my skin. She was the kind of dame where as soon as she walks in, you know the rest of your day is shot. Of course, if I need the money bad enough I’ll deal with just about anything.

It was around lunchtime when I met her. Can’t tell you what the dame was wearing, but I do remember what I was eating: a perfectly toasted Reuben from that pricey sandwich joint across the street. It was one of the few times I indulged, and after my case fell through that morning, well, I was due for a bit of indulgence. The woman I’d been trailing for weeks on the request of her jealous husband thought that I was a stalker, and with a handful of cops, she’d prepared a trap. Now whether or not I was really stalking her was beside the point; it had eaten up a good chunk of my time being cuffed and hauled off to the police station that morning, not to mention set me up for a foul mood the rest of the day. It took me all morning to weasel my way out without having charges pressed. For some reason the cops in this miserable burg don’t take kindly to private detectives and they wanted to make that absolutely clear. Not that I wasn’t aware of that little jewel of knowledge already. We private dicks may be jerks, but we’re paid jerks. A point the cops tend to forget.

Anyways, I had to call the husband after I got back and he was none too pleased. Not only was the client a lost cause, but so was my pay. Which brings me back to my compensation: a tasty Reuben. So when the dame gave my door three knocks before waltzing in all teary-eyed with her quivering lips, I pause in mid-bite and tried my best not to roll my eyes. If