Deadwood Revived boxset

By Peyton Dinwiddie

Unearth the Unpredictable: A Murder Mystery Boxset for those seeking an Intellectual Challenge

Embark on a thrilling journey through the heart-pounding pages of the "Deadwood Revived" boxset, a mesmerizing fusion of four gripping novels from the "Marcus Lynette Mystery Exploration" series. Join Marcus Lynette, a seasoned private investigator with a haunted past, as he navigates the treacherous waters of crime in a quest for justice that hits dangerously close to home.

As a former police officer, Marcus thought he had seen it all until the mysterious deaths of his father and sister plunge him into a twisted web of deceit. Determined to uncover the truth, Marcus, alongside the sharp-witted Detective Raymond and the resourceful private investigator Gina, embarks on an enthralling pursuit that unravels the dark secrets of the Bradly household.

But be warned, this isn't your typical crime fiction series. Brace yourself for a rollercoaster of emotions as Marcus, Raymond, and Gina navigate the complexities of crime, relationships, and personal struggles. In a surprising twist, Marcus finds himself entangled in a romantic resuscitation, providing a delicate balance amidst the chaos.
For our distinguished reader, who seeks a narrative that defies the conventional, "Deadwood Revived" promises an intellectual challenge with its intricate character relationships and unforeseeable plot twists. Fear not, as the series delicately addresses your concerns for realistic character development, ensuring a consistent and satisfying reading experience.

The aging shadows of mystery will be dispelled as Marcus Lynette unearths the grander plot behind the murders, fulfilling your desire for clear resolutions and preventing frustration. Each page offers a symphony of emotions, from the highs of romantic entanglements to the lows of criminal revelations, ensuring a balanced and engaging experience.
Prepare to be captivated by a writing style that shuns unnecessary distractions, meeting your preference for straightforwardness over the overuse of metaphors. "Deadwood Revived" promises to keep you connected, curious, and excited, offering a series that remains fresh and unpredictable while delving into the depths of evolving relationships.

Complexity, unpredictability, and emotional highs and lows await you in this murder mystery exploration. Don't miss out on this enthralling experience - click the 'Buy Now with 1-click' button and immerse yourself in the enigmatic world of "Deadwood Revived." Indulge in the satisfaction of a mystery unraveling, leaving you fulfilled and yearning for more.

Click the link and experience the complexity, unpredictability, and emotional highs of "Deadwood Revived." Engage your mind, challenge your expectations, and satisfy your thirst for an enthralling murder mystery series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Peyton Dinwiddie
• Release date: Jun 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9798224199181

Book preview

Deadwood Revived

A gripping murder mystery boxset with jaw-dropping twists

Peyton Dinwiddie

Copyright © 2022 Peyton Dinwiddie

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

THANK YOU GIFT

BOOK ONE: DEADWOOD’S HOTEL MYSTERY

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

BOOK TWO: DEADWOOD’S WAREHOUSE MYSTERY

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

BOOK THREE: DEADWOOD’S MANSION MYSTERY

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

BOOK FOUR: DEADWOOD’S CREEK MYSTERY

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

AFTERWORD

Books By This Author

ABOUT AUTHOR

THANK YOU GIFT

As a token of appreciation for showing an interest in this series. Grab yourself a free copy of

PARENTS DON’T APPROVE.

You’ll also be amongst the first to know about my upcoming releases, chapter teasers on books that I’m working on.

BOOK ONE: DEADWOOD’S HOTEL MYSTERY

CHAPTER ONE

He wasn't bothered by the chirp of the crickets, nor was he bothered by the smog that hung so thickly over the area. The cold seeped through his leather jacket and gloved pocketed hands to his body as much as his soul. An owl hooted. Bats fluttered by at low range as midnight's parade of creepiness settled over the cemetery.

Deadwood was a town with many claims to fame, one of which was its many cemeteries. Maybe that was a fallacious assumption. Maybe Deadwood didn't have that many cemeteries, but it was simply famous for its burial sites like Mount Moriah Cemetery.

There was, in fact, a slim chance, the fictitious omen of death brooding in the minds of Deadwood's visitors was what endeared him to the place when he thought about where he might settle after college.

Marcus liked to believe he was brave. Maybe that was true. His father had looked him in the eyes when, at ten, he'd rushed at a raccoon, grabbing it by the neck.

Let it go, Mark. There had been a shudder in the man's stifled breath.

Marcus had squeezed tighter as the whole family watched, all of them afraid to near him until he'd flung the thing out the open door.

He was not weird, but fear did not make much sense to him. Neither did death. It was what had opened him up to a lifetime's inquisition about the most dreaded topic: death. It's also what had drawn him to the police force when he'd applied as coroner. However brief that time had been, it was helpful with his inquiries about the dead.

Stroking, poking, lifting, and carrying dead bodies was not enough to satisfy his investigations. His subjects were as lifeless as they came. They could not talk, nor could they explain the mysteries of their deaths. They simply laid there, snobbish and cold. It was a bore. His theory was that the mystery always laid with the killer. Only the killer knew what it meant to see the life leave a person's eyes. The killer surely held the mystery, for only they, as messengers of death, knew it well enough.

At that stage in his life, it had become an obsession. It was not entirely his fault. At twenty years old, he had seen his first corpse: his father's. Bloated and blue, eyelids shut like firm straps. Fists clenched like a fighter's and nose as slim as a stick. Everyone wailed except for him; he simply watched, looking intently at his remorseless mom's face, who would become infamous for poisoning the man's food. His young mind had labeled her mysterious from that day on, not because she had killed a person but because she had the answer he had sought all his life. She knew what it meant to take a life, and he was dying to know.

His inquiry along as coroner was short-lived, ending when he'd joined the police academy to become an officer and later a detective. Maybe he was out for a position that would nudge him toward killers whom he believed had the answers for which he was looking.

Marcus had been successful as a coroner, and so was his short career as a detective before he left it to become a private investigator. That was really where he'd been headed, after all. Surely, he would find his answers if he could stalk killers, find them, and ask them, Master to apprentice—what does taking a life feel like?

It seemed he was not the only one obsessed with death; death was obsessed with him, and it always found a way to stimulate deeper levels of his curiosity. Fifteen years after the death of his father, his younger sister, Lona, had died. Mysteriously, they had said. It had been three months since her death. Whatever he thought was a clue took them further away from the answers they were looking for. His arch-nemesis was playing tricks on him. Death was taking him on a wild goose chase.

He stood over his father’s grave and prayed to God, his father, and anyone with the power to give him answers.

His phone beeped. He looked to see that the officer was calling again.

Okay, Marcus said, answering the phone, I’ll be on my way.

He went back to his car and zoomed off. It was 1 a.m.

◆◆◆

The police building had not been spared by midnight's notorious haze, but through it all, Marcus saw officers dragging along their perps, walloping them when necessary. He pulled over in the driveway and made his way into the building.

His eyes met with Raymond's immediately after he'd walked in. They say noble men don't walk around in so terrible a time, Detective Raymond joked.

Raymond, I can assure you there is hardly anyone of noble birth who's already in bed.

They hugged and shared a laugh.

How're you faring, man? Detective Raymond asked.

As you can see, not too bad for a man with a loveless life, Marcus scoffed.

What of Brianna, Marcus? Tell me you called her. Raymond grunted and sat in his chair.

You see, my friend, calling her wasn't the issue. And I promise you: we were getting along, Marcus replied.

But? Raymond sounded frustrated.

But you know how I am with dates. I received an urgent call on a lead on that kidnapped toddler, and I couldn't help myself, Marcus said.

Marcus! Raymond sighed.

I sent her flowers, though, Marcus said.

How did she feel about that? Raymond asked.

Not too good, I can imagine. Her text was furious. All capital letters.

Damn, man.

I tell you.

They were quiet for a little while.

Well, I imagine you didn't call me over to discuss my hopeless situation, Marcus said, straightening his posture.

Not at all. Even I know it is hopeless, Raymond joked. It’s something else.

Tell me, then.

There’s been a murder at the Orient Hotel.

You know my principle, Raymond: I don't take on more than a single murder case at a time.

I admire what it takes to be a private investigator, making your own rules and the like, Raymond said.

You can say that again.

What's the second murder, though? Don't tell me you're investigating Lona's death. You know we've got that, and you're not allowed to investigate, Raymond said.

I make my own rules; you said so yourself, Marcus said.

Then you might as well go live in your own country.

Marcus laughed.

Marcus, I wouldn't ask if there was some other way. I want you to know that. The daughter of Theophilus Bradly, the business mogul, was murdered last night. I'd happily give it to any of these dorks, but it’s nothing like we have had in a while.

What do you mean? Marcus asked.

There were no wounds whatsoever, and the coroner says it was neither strangulation nor poisoning. It looks like her heart simply stopped on its own. Maybe I could believe that, but Grace was just twenty-six. And before you ask, there was no sign of a break-in, Raymond explained.

That does sound intriguing, but why should I do this? Marcus asked.

The family promises to be very generous.

You know I'm not motivated by money.

And that's why we all hate you, Raymond joked.

They laughed again.

There’s more, Raymond said.

Which is?

Raymond leaned over his desk to be closer to Marcus. See, I'm breaking my own rules here, but my guts tell me this may have something to do with whoever killed Lona, he whispered.

You're not pulling my leg now, are you? Marcus asked.

That'd be stupid.

Why do you think they have something in common?

I don't want to point fingers, but there are several things that just don't feel right. Lona's ex-husband, Patrick, was in the same hotel that night. Was he lodged there? No, but he walks in and out between nine-fifteen and ten p.m., the estimated time of the death.

Should that mean anything? Marcus asked.

Maybe not, except that something belonging to Lona was found in the same room.

Marcus’s curiosity was set suddenly afire.

Raymond pulled out a pendant from his drawer, wrapped in a Ziploc bag that Marcus immediately recognized. He'd been baffled when it was not around Lona’s neck when she'd been found dead in her residence because it never left her neck.

Marcus was silent for a few minutes as he held the bag close to his person. Why has Patrick not been called in yet then?

Not so quickly. No camera captured him going beyond the lobby of the hotel. More so, I don’t want him thinking we know just yet. We have some detectives on his tail, and there's been nothing unusual in the last twenty-four hours, Raymond explained.

You think he was contracted to kill the lady? Marcus asked.

It’s not impossible, Raymond said.

I love your objectivity, but Patrick—a fireman who works undercover as an assassin?

Tell me you haven't seen worse in your years as a detective. Well, I have, Raymond said.

I know that guy. He’s not the best, but an assassin?

Your familiarity has become a blind spot for you, Marcus. Take no chances.

Marcus handed the bag with the pendant back to Raymond.

Are you taking the job, then? Raymond asked.

Of course. You know I must, Marcus replied.

I thought so, too. I'll provide you with every clearance you need to get into the crime scene. We need answers, and we need them fast.

Marcus merely nodded. It had been a while since anything had washed up regarding Lona's death, and this made him feel one step closer to solving it. He looked through the file Raymond had given him. That Grace looked familiar, but he could not say from where.

He shook hands with Raymond and drove down to the Orient Hotel. Raymond was correct, he mused: he could not afford to have a blind spot where Patrick was concerned. He also could not afford to visit Patrick right away, not because it was midnight but because he knew it would be confrontational. Guilty of his sister's death or not, Patrick was not what you would have called the best husband, and there was nothing that clouded Marcus's better judgment than emotions.

Marcus pulled up at the hotel and made his way to the crime scene. Upon arrival, he met with the receptionist in the lobby, the same one who had been on duty on the night of the murder. He was friends with Patrick, and his name was Farooq.

CHAPTER TWO

Marcus was not sure what he might find when he was there for a look. If the killer had been so good that Raymond had to call him in, the scene would be as neat as it could, but following with tradition couldn't hurt, now could it? He paced the scene, looking intermittently back at the officer who'd been placed there