Third Time's the Charm: A Heartfelt Murder Mystery

By Michale Mohr

What do a physical therapist and a high-end jewel thief have in common? The same bullet. Two break-ins, a botched jewel heist, and a murder set the stage for a complex set of events that put both the thief and the physical therapist at the wrong end of a rifle.

Third Time's the Charm is a fast-moving murder mystery full of twists and turns. A home invasion results in the murder of a childhood friend of Melinda Stark's son. The perky physical therapist immediately inserts herself into the investigation to help solve it, unknowingly becoming a pawn in a game she has no idea she's been drafted into.

Melinda's newest patient, Dominic Gallo has been hired by a billionaire bad guy to steal two priceless Egyptian charms. He misses the handoff and hides the charms in his sister's gift shop while he figures out his next move. The charms are inadvertently sold by his sister's assistant. The cash receipt yields only an illegible name. With no other option, he begins breaking into homes of people whose names look similar to the one on the receipt. The third name on his list is Melinda Stark.

While Melinda pursues the murder investigation of her son's friend, Dominic tries to find out if she has the charms. The twists and turns continue to pile up as Gallo and his wife end up becoming friends with Melinda and her homicide detective boyfriend. Dominic's client goes completely off the rails and threatens to end of the lives of both Melinda and Dominic if the charms are not returned to him immediately.

The nail-biting ending comes when the murderer, the charms, and Melinda's relationship to Dominic's client are revealed, leading to an explosive showdown that no one sees coming.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9798890610096

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

About the Author

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Third Time's the Charm: A Heartfelt Murder Mystery

Michale Mohr

Copyright © 2023 Michale Mohr

All rights reserved

First Edition

NEWMAN SPRINGS PUBLISHING

320 Broad Street

Red Bank, NJ 07701

First originally published by Newman Springs Publishing 2023

ISBN 979-8-89061-008-9 (Paperback)

ISBN 979-8-89061-009-6 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Some Heartfelt Thank-Yous

There is a general vision of the writer sitting alone at their computer, reference books stacked everywhere, insisting they need solitude to create. The reality is, however, that no one ever writes alone. There are friends and supporters every step of the way that keep us going, tell us we'll make it, and push us when we want to quit. And within that group, if we're lucky, there is one without whom the journey may not have continued.

That one for me was my longtime friend Randi Klein. The first day I decided to embark on the twisted road of writing, rejections, query letters, and agents, she was there. She held my hand, listened to my fears and self-doubt, applauded my successes, was not deterred by the rejections, and helped me reimagine my life as an author.

Randi helped me ready my work to send out into the publishing arena. She did the fine-line editing, as well as showed me where the story was falling apart, and she also pointed out the areas that had wings. Her attention to detail is second to none. She reasoned, cajoled, pushed, and molded my heart and mind until I believed in myself. Everyone should have a friend like that.

I've had so much support throughout this process. Thank you to my longtime friend Andrea Kaplan, who has been my biggest fan but was always honest enough to point out places that didn't quite work for her. These are precious words because truth is what we seek in our writing endeavors. She's another friend who rode in the car with me all the way to the finish line. Thank you, Andrea.

Thank you to my family, who also has had years of listening to the roller-coaster ride I've been on. They have taken it in stride, never entertained any doubt about seeing my book in print, and loved me through it all.

Chapter 1

The white hair accentuated his youthful, piercing blue eyes, which juxtaposed the wrinkled skin, confusing anyone attempting to pinpoint his age. The only things that tilted the scales were the almost-too-thin frame and the arthritic hands. He stayed in bed most of the time, always in silk pajamas and clean-shaven, books and his computer neatly arranged on the overbed table. No one knew if he remained bedridden because he was ill or simply because he liked it there.

There were maids who came in weekly to assure the obsessive-compulsive order was maintained. If you asked any of them about the man, they would be at a loss to explain him. Conversation other than those about the orders of the day was never held with the help. Paychecks were collected at the end of shift with a simple thank-you uttered by the man.

The man had wealth, lawyers, and, one would assume, a physician somewhere that came to visit. No one had reported such, however. He didn't leave his home, and it seemed that no visitor with a doctor's bag had ever been seen coming or going. His interactions were made by phone, computer, and, on extremely rare occasions, an invited guest. Today was one of those infrequent times.

When the maid opened the door for Dominic Gallo to enter, she didn't offer him a chair. Instead, she simply pointed to an area at the end of the bed where he was to stand. The bed was elevated, with a three-step riser leading up to it. Gallo was a tall man, but with the bed lifted, he was almost at eye level with the occupant.

Dominic normally would have found the absurdity of this moment funny, but given the content of the conversation he was about to have, he couldn't quite locate the humor. It was his first time actually meeting James Walsh. Their prior interactions had taken place online, so he was more than a little taken aback by being ushered into the man's bedroom for a business meeting. He wanted to say something like Gee, I feel so overdressed but thought better of it.

Dominic had plenty of time for these stream-of-consciousness thoughts because Walsh kept him waiting a full five minutes while he finished his phone call. He never even glanced up to acknowledge his presence.

Oh please, keep talking, I have nothing better to do but stand here at the end of your bed and watch you, Dominic thought. He looked around and took a moment to survey the surroundings. Original artwork lined the walls of the massive lavish room. The plush white rug under his feet, coupled with the sleek oversize end tables and lamps, screamed richness without being gaudy. Interesting, however, was the lack of personal touches. No smiling family pictures or souvenir treasures from a favored vacation were seen. With all the beauty by design and decorative flair, it was a sterile, cold environment.

This is so nuts. How in the name of all that's holy did I end up standing in front of this crackpot anyway? In front of his bed, no less… Seriously? If I didn't know better, I'd think I was being punked, Gallo thought. He looked around the room again. I wonder if a clock adorned with jewels runs better. Could those be real diamonds?

After disconnecting his phone call, Walsh took a few moments more to close his notebook, remove his glasses, and Sani-wipe his hands before looking up at Dominic.

Good evening, Mr. Gallo, he said cordially. I hope you didn't have any problems finding my home.

Not at all, Jim, Dominic said.

Mr. Walsh, please. We are not familiar, he said in that same quiet tone.

Of course, Dominic acknowledged as a more derogatory label for Walsh skipped through his mind but not out of his mouth.

Now, I assume you brought the charms, Walsh said.

I did not, Dominic answered simply.

Walsh's facial expression did not betray his anger. His eyes, however, did. I expect you have a good explanation for this lack of delivery.

I do. Your man didn't show up this morning for the exchange, so I figured I'd been duped… Well, that was until you called me tonight.

Then the next obvious question would be ‘Why are there no charms in my hand now that you're here?' Walsh said in that same measured tone.

Dominic paused. His previous bravado was beginning to slip. This would not be an easy answer to give. He wouldn't believe the story if he hadn't lived it.

Loosening his tie, Dominic took a moment to decide how best to continue. Plus, he really hated being dressed in a suit and tie—not his attire of choice.

Funny story, Gallo began with a sheepish grin.

I doubt I would find any story that does not end up with the charms in my hand funny, but please, Mr. Gallo, regale me with this humorous tale.

Walsh's eyes never changed. Dominic couldn't read him at all. He had a stare that bore into his very soul without revealing whatever emotion was hiding just under the surface. Even though he knew that Walsh was very rich, connected, and powerful and could make him disappear in an instant, he thought about lying to him. It was only a momentary flight of fancy, however. He knew that lying would be catastrophic. He had to come clean.

Okay. Here's the truth of it. When I missed your man, I hid your Egyptian amulets, charms, as you call them, at my sister's gift shop while I figured out what to do next. When I went to retrieve them, her assistant had found them and sold them. Gallo stopped, holding his breath, watching Walsh. The elder gentleman didn't overtly react. The only motion he made was to fold his hands in his lap.

Oh my, quite the dilemma. Please continue was all Walsh uttered.

Anyway, I found the cash receipt for who bought them. The name was almost illegible, but it was only five letters long, starting with s-t-a. There are only three people in the area with five-letter names that start with s-t-a, so I figured I'd break into their places and steal them back.

I assume, since you've come here empty-handed, that you have not accomplished this task, Walsh said quietly, never taking his eyes from Gallo's face.

Not yet. But since the first two didn't have them, it has to be the third, Dominic answered, hoping to sound confident.

"You can see my problem, Mr. Gallo. Your Where's Waldo antics put me in great danger. If arrested, you could turn on me for a better deal. So, tell me, what would you do in my situation? Killing you is my first thought."

Dominic, feeling cornered, immediately reacted. No, no, no. That's not a good thought at all. I would applaud the ingenuity being shown to ensure you get your charms. Yes, that's what I would definitely do. I would let the man finish the job…unscathed.

Walsh gave what might be characterized for him as a smile. I see. You're a kind man then.

Dominic just stared at him and nodded. He had no idea how to be with this guy. His normal quirky, jokey nature was definitely not called for. His rough-and-tumble Italian ability to hold his own in any fight wouldn't serve him here.

Walsh reached over and pushed a button on his nightstand. In seconds a huge burly man walked through the door. The material of his too-small suit struggled to stay in one piece over his bulging muscles, threatening to pop open with every movement he made. He stopped, then waited for further instructions.

Mr. Gallo, meet Andrew. He will be your constant companion until my charms are recovered and brought to me. Should you fail in this task, his face will be the last thing you see.

Dominic was aghast and angry. Wait a minute, Walsh! I can't have this goon following me around while I'm trying to work.

You may have a small point. Andrew is rather large and conspicuous. He can remain at a discreet distance. However, no more break-ins.

Then how exactly, pray tell, do you suggest I get back your amulets? Gallo asked, feeling braver now.

Ingenuity. You will engage with this third person. Get to know them. Talk to them. With your considerable Italian charm, I'm sure you'll be able to get them to reveal if they are indeed the holders of my prize.

Talk to the mark? Are you nuts? Dominic yelled.

Andrew took a threatening step toward Gallo. Dominic raised his hands in an I give up gesture and took a step back.

Hold on to your brass knuckles, Lurch, Dominic said to Andrew. I'm Italian. I yell.

Andrew looked at Walsh, who simply nodded, indicating that he could step down.

One question. Why are you paying me a hundred thousand dollars to steal these stupid things anyway? You can buy them online for a couple thousand bucks.

"Authenticity. The others are fakes, falso, or fugazi, as you Italians would say. Only the originals hold their power."

Power?

Yes, Mr. Gallo. The manifestation of the large can often be found in the very small. Now…your decision please.

Fine! Dominic barked, resigned to his fate.

Good. Who is the last name on your list? Walsh inquired.

Melinda Stark.

Perfect. I actually know her family well. She owns a physical therapy clinic in town. It's called Heartfelt. First thing Monday morning, you'll make an appointment to see her. Any ache or pain should get you through the door, Walsh answered, satisfied that things were moving forward now.

Terrific. Anything else?

One word of caution. She's dating a homicide detective, so extra discretion is advised.

Of course she is, Dominic said wryly. "Come on, Lurch. Let's go.

Chapter 2

Melinda handed the tinfoil duck containing the leftovers from their dinner to Tom while she fumbled through her oversize purse, looking for her keys.

I can never find anything in this thing, she said, raking through the contents of her bag. Organization has never been my strong suit.

I know, Tom laughed. I've seen your office.

Ha, ha…very funny.

After a few more minutes, Melinda produced the keys with an Aha!

Before opening the door, Tom took the opportunity to give her a soft, gentle kiss.

As much as I loved that kiss, Melinda giggled, pulling back from Tom's embrace, it's snowing and freezing out here. Can we continue this inside, in front of a raging fire?

Lead on, Tom said with a smile, stepping back.

Once inside the door, Melinda flipped on the light switch. An instantaneous Surprise! emitted from the room. Just above the heads of the laughing and applauding group hung a sign that read, Happy Birthday, Melinda.

She stood frozen for a moment, then looked at Tom in confusion. He beamed with pride and took a bow, signaling he was the author of this event.

The entire group descended on Melinda, hugging her, asking if she was truly surprised.

Well…yeah…I'm particularly surprised since this is January 15th, and my birthday was November 2nd. She looked around at the festive decorations, the stack of gifts on the coffee table, and the twinkling lights draped across the ceiling. How in the world did you do all this? We've only been gone a couple of hours.

Where there's a will and all that, Indie Porter offered. She was Melinda's best friend and business partner. We love you, girl. It was a group effort ably directed by our favorite detective, she said, motioning to Tom.

Okay…time for some cake! Detective Yang hollered from the back of the room.

Oh, hush about the cake, Travis, Judy Olsen, Yang's longtime girlfriend, injected, rolling her eyes. He's been wanting to eat ever since we got here.

Tom took Melinda's coat and gloves from her, and someone else handed her a glass of wine. The party was in full swing.

After each of the myriad of well-wishers stopped by to chat with Melinda, Yang appeared, carrying the cake. The solitary candle on top flamed brightly. It was shaped in the form of a question mark. That had been Jason's idea. He thought his mom would get a kick out of it.

Okay, we've sung the song, applauded, hugged, and started drinking. So blow out the candle already, and let's eat, Yang said.

The whole room broke out into laughter.

The room settled into groups of partygoers standing and sitting in various areas, sharing stories, and enjoying the evening.

Melinda, Indie, and Tom sat on the couch, eating cake, with Indie in the middle of a story. She was relaying one of Melinda's wilder escapades.

Swear to God. I get there, and she's chained herself to the front porch, Indie said in full-shock-and-awe mode.

Okay, okay. So I didn't think it through. But it worked, didn't it? Melinda defended herself.

Don't leave me hanging. Did she get arrested? Tom asked, enthralled.

Hello…she's is in the room. And no, I didn't. The cops came. The press came. But in the end, I got the house designated as a historic home, she said with a flourish, raising her arms up as if she'd made a touchdown.

Contrary to my best friend here's telling of the tale, it was absolutely the right thing to do. It is standing majestically to this day. Ta-da!

I wish I could have seen that. Tom chuckled.

Wait ten minutes… You will, Indie said with a laugh.

What does that mean? Tom asked.

I'll never tell, Indie answered with a Cheshire-cat grin.

Indie got up and started removing the plates off the table and took them into the kitchen.

Melinda put her arms around Tom's broad shoulders and gave him a big noisy kiss on the cheek.

I loved it…but what was that for? he asked with a smile.

My belated birthday party.

Three months belated, but my heart was in the right place, Tom replied.

"We were very new when my real birthday came and went last November. You were working that big