Steam and Shadow

By Gray N Cole

A baffling murder in the small town of Dobsman has the townsfolk running scared. When the inspector assigned to the case goes missing, rookie detective Rhea Greenwood and her partner, Morgan Holder, are sent to investigate as the case begins to spiral out of control.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 4, 2018
• ISBN: 9781504922418

Gray N Cole

I've been writing for several years, often in dimly lit cafes and smoky bars. Rainy nights are the best time for coming up with ideas and meeting new people. You never know what kind of folks the weather will blow in. Currently I'm living in a small apartment in Northern Idaho, where the ceiling fans turn too slowly.

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Copyright © 2015 Gray N Cole. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse    07/16/2015

ISBN: 978-1-5049-2242-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-2241-8 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

About the Author

Chapter One

Phila Baker sat at her bedroom window, watching the rain come down in heavy sheets. It was a rare day in New Sierra when it was not raining. She knew that she should not have gotten her hopes up, but she had been wishing for some sunshine for a change. Phila was concerned about how the stormy weather would affect her mother’s trip back home. The railway was reliable enough, but she knew her mother was quite a worrywort. She believed that a pebble on the railway track would throw the whole contraption off its wheels. Phila knew such things were nonsense. She just hoped her mother would not cause a scene at the station.

I wonder how Clem is doing, she said to herself.

Her best friend did not live very far away, but she did not like the thought of walking up to the old farmhouse in the rain. Clementine had not been holding up well after her father passed away. Phila resolutely decided that Clem could use some company. She rose from her seat by the window and grabbed her umbrella from the corner of the room. Suddenly, rough hands clamped over her mouth and grabbed around her waist. She struggled fiercely and tried to scream, but she could not break free. Her attacker slammed her against the wall and pinned her arms behind her back. She could feel his hot and fetid breath on her neck.

Tell me your secrets, a gravelly voice hissed into her ear.

***

Detective Rhea Greenwood stared glumly out over the city of New Sierra from the window of her superior’s second story office. Dirty rain fell on a dirty town; the only thing that kept its diseased heart beating was the prospect of easy money. It was a gambler’s paradise, a haven for thieves, and a home for downtrodden honest folk that still cobbled together a life from the pieces of broken dreams. For some it turned out to be a nightmare.

The door to the office opened and Commissioner Harold Thorobridge hobbled into the office, steam hissing from his mechanical leg with every step. He was powerfully built for his age, with leathery skin and a shock of white hair. His face was marred by a deep scar across his jawline. Greenwood heard that Thorobridge had lost his leg to a landmine in the war between The Solingrahv Dutchy and The Principality of Alanmar, but she could not help but wonder if it was heroism or cowardice that cost him the limb.

You’re late, sir, Greenwood said.

Shut up, Thorobridge snapped as he settled himself into the chair behind his desk. Do you know why I called this meeting with you?

Is it related to my request to get on Homicide Squad?

Glad you figured out that much, kid.

I’m no kid, Greenwood grumbled. I’m twenty-six as of today. I was on the force in Los Caidos for five years before I transferred here to New Sierra.

Greenwood, you aren’t in Los Caidos anymore. Do you know what the average life expectancy is of a cop in New Sierra? the commissioner asked gravely.

Less than one year. I don’t scare easily. I requested the transfer here because I can be far more helpful In New Sierra than I ever could in a quiet little town like Los Caidos.

I agree, though most cops transfer here because of the pay, not some high sense of idealism.

It’s not idealism. It’s justice.

Justice… That’s a pretty word.

I believe in it, Greenwood said as she pulled out a half-empty pack of cigarettes from her trousers.

Steam Vents? Cheap crap, Thorobridge snorted.

I go through ’em too fast to bother with anything expensive, she replied, fishing out a battered bronze lighter from her shirt pocket.

That’s a shame. Did your parents smoke? They were immigrants to the country, weren’t they? Thorobridge questioned with a frown.

Yes, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything.

Your hair is black and your skin is as brown as a as a walnut. You drawl like a country town girl, though at least you use real words. You stand out, Greenwood, and getting noticed by the crooks around here is a good way to be carried to the graveyard under the ducal flag, the old man grumbled.

I’ll hardly stand out. Immigrants like my parents make up almost a third of this country’s population. It’s something people need to get used to.

You’re level-headed. I like that. Are you afraid of danger at all?

I’m willing to lay down my life in the pursuit of the truth.

Commissioner Thorobridge cracked a cold smile. In that case I congratulate you, Miss Greenwood. I’m appointing you to the Homicide Squad. I’ve had three positions on the squad open for over a year, but no one wanted to fill them after the last string of cop killings. Congratulations on the new post, Miss Greenwood. Oh, and happy birthday.

Greenwood felt elated as she was shown to her new desk. She had moved halfway across the country, posted to the most dangerous job in the city, and had acquired a rather strong disliking for the commissioner. She had not felt this excited since she solved her first case back in Los Caidos. Her desk was situated in a corner away from the other detectives, and when she arrived she saw that it was cluttered with dusty case files. She sat down in the creaking chair and let out a happy sigh.

Where to begin? she wondered aloud as she fidgited with the worn silver pendant around her neck.

You could always begin by introducing yourself to your new partner, a deep voice said behind her.

Greenwood turned in her chair and looked up at the mountain of a man behind her. He was tall and dark, with a suit that fit so well he might have been poured into it. His sideburns faded from black to concrete grey, and behind his glasses were warm and friendly eyes. Greenwood couldn’t help but smile at him.

Rhea Greenwood, she said, standing up and extending her hand.

Morgan Holder, he stated as he shook her hand, his grip firm but gentle. You’re younger than I expected.

You’re nicer than I expected, Greenwood replied. Where do you golf at?

Excuse me?

The callouses on your hands give you away. You’re a frequent golf player, though you don’t play with enough zeal to buy gloves.

Um, that’s pretty good, miss. I play at North Meadows about once a week, but the gloves and such are a little expensive. I prefer to get a good feel of the clubs anyhow. Do you golf?

Heavens no, it’s barely a competition. It’s a leisure sport. I prefer boxing.

When you’re on the force you should enjoy what little leisure time you have, though boxing isn’t exactly leisurely.

I usually end up spending my leisure time alone.

Why is that?

Is it true that this city’s police force tends to be rather harsh? Greenwood asked quickly, trying changing the subject.

"Yes, but I try my best to