Another Splash of Déjà Vu

I've mentioned in the past that I experienced a déjà vu moment when I recognized my current water aerobics instructor's Russian accent. Immediately, I was back in Russia, splashing about with another water aerobics instructor. My current instructor recently wished us all "Happy International Women's Day," and my time there came rushing back again.

International Women’s Day (IWD) barely makes a ripple in the U.S., but having lived abroad, I can attest to its popularity in other countries. Now celebrated on March 8, its roots lie in early-20th-century labor and suffrage movements. The current date became firmly associated with the holiday after Russian women staged major protests in 1917 (recreated in the movie Dr. Zhivago) , helping to spark the Russian Revolution. While the day was observed in parts of Europe and within socialist and labor movements around the world, it received little mainstream attention in the United States until the United Nations began celebrating International Women’s Day in 1975 during International Women’s Year and later formally recognized it as part of its efforts to promote gender equality.

While IWD offers an opportunity to celebrate the achievements of women past and present, it also underscores a simple truth: progress has been real, but the work is not finished. As the day gains wider recognition in the United States, it serves as a reminder that the pursuit of opportunity, respect, and equality for women remains a shared global endeavor.

I know it's a little late, but "Happy International Women's Day" to you all!

More News About Charlie Davidson!

A second case starring Charlie Davidson (see the first case below) has been accepted for the Sisters in Crime anthology, Metroplex Mysteries - Boots, BBQ, and Bloodshed. Of course, the only boots Charlie wears are go-go! This story, "Pay Your Money, Take Your Chances," centers around the State Fair of Texas, a Dallas institution dating back to 1886.

I'll let you know when the anthology will be published.

Book Fairs and Giveaways

🔎📚 𝑳𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 T𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒚 W𝒉𝒐𝒅𝒖𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒕? 📚🔍

If you are looking for an action-packed thrill ride or a twisty whodunnit, you’re in the right place. A group of talented mystery, thriller, and suspense authors have come together to bring you some of the most exciting reads in the genre. If you enjoy gripping plots, clever twists, and page-turning suspense, you’ll want to explore these books.

Add a few new titles to your TBR pile today!

👉 Browse the Mayhem & Motives Event beginning April 1

FREE Download

When Matthew Paine met Cecelia Patterson, was the electric jolt more than static electricity? More jarring than their first encounter with each other is an attempted murder at a small-town restaurant.

Will Matthew's medical training be enough to save the victim and aid the police in determining how the murderer intended to kill?

Read Pre Kill now and get the scandalous scoop!

👉 Download here.

Elvis Has Left the Building

A recap of the story so far: Exotic dancer Kandy Kane hires attorney Charlene (“Charlie”) Davidson to recover back wage from the nightclub where she works. When Charlie confronts the club’s owner, Vincent Devereaux, he refuses to pay, insisting Kandy is an independent contractor rather than an employee. The meeting ends abruptly when Devereaux storms off to continue an argument with Billy Ray, an Elvis impersonator who performs between the club’s acts. Looking for more information, Charlie questions the bartender and notices Darlene, one of Billy Ray’s devoted fans, sitting at the bar. The conversation suggests tensions among the club’s performers and management, leading Charlie to suspect Devereaux may be exploiting more than one employee. Determined to help her client, she decides to gather additional information that could support a broader lawsuit.

To read the complete story and others from the North Dallas chapter of Sisters in Crime, purchase the book here.

Part 3

Charlie passed Darlene when she made her way to the backstage door. The music dropped several volumes once it closed behind her. As on the office side, the cheap lighting barely illuminated the way between the props and costumes, clogging the passage. It opened to a bank of three make-up tables with lighted mirrors where the earlier g-string dancer was rouging her cheeks—and lower parts. In the corner, a door with a gold star cut-out featured a handwritten sign of a crown and the words, “The King.”

“Do you know if he’s in?” she asked, pointing to Billy Ray’s dressing room.

The woman gave her the same once-over that everyone else in this place seemed to employ. “You’re kind of young to be one of his fans.”

She hoped the mirror lights kept the woman from seeing her face heat. “I just need to talk to him.”

She shrugged. “I just sat down here. You’ll have to see for yourself.”

The door swung open when she rapped, and Charlie stepped into the darkened dressing room. “Mr. Anderson?”

A scream stuck in her throat when she glanced down after the toe of her boot kicked something soft. Billy Ray lay on the floor, a sequined scarf pulled tight around his neck. Even though she’d never seen a dead body—other than a few mice caught in traps—she was certain Billy Ray was her first. Spinning and stepping out of the room, her mind raced with law books she had read, desperately seeking something to recite. Not a single title came to mind. Her gaze swung wildly across the area in search of a phone.

“Honey, are you all right?” the dancer asked. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

“Phone,” Charlie said between gulps of air. “Where’s a phone?”

She followed the woman’s finger to an old, black rotary model on the wall next to a small bathroom. It took her two tries to spin the dial completely and connect with the operator. “Get me the police.”

***

Charlie’s heart was still doing a strong beat when she knocked on Deveraux’s door. Following several seconds of scuffling, Kandy opened the door. Charlie froze, unable to move or speak as she tried to make sense of the scene before her.

Behind Kandy, Devereaux was straightening his tie. “Miss Davidson, just the person we wanted to see.”

The dancer grabbed her hand and pumped it up and down. “I don’t know how to thank you. Look.” She held up a check. “Five-thousand dollars.”

“How…how….?” She could only stutter out the one thought.

“Billy Ray showed Vincent an offer from Vegas, and he agreed to pay me and give Billy Ray a raise. Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Kandy said you get ten percent. I have a five-hundred dollar check right here for you,” Deveraux said, displaying a second check.

Charlie shook her head, unable to understand the scene she’d witnessed on the other side of the building or reconcile it with this one. Forcing herself to speak slowly, she said, “The police are on their way here.”

Even in the shadowy office, she could see Deveraux’s face blanch. “Police?”

“Billy Ray—” Charlie had to work her mouth to form the words. “He’s...dead.”

Deveraux practically leaped over his desk and pushed past the two women to the door leading backstage, his footsteps clattering in the narrow passage leading to the dressing rooms.

Over the throbbing music from the stage, Charlie could catch the wail of sirens announcing the police’s arrival.

She grabbed Kandy’s hand. “Come on. We need to make sure Deveraux doesn’t contaminate the murder scene.”

When they caught up to him, Charlie sighed in relief. Vincent was arguing with Cheyenne, the g-string dancer, now wearing a short Oriental robe. Charlie had told her to keep everyone out of Billy Ray’s dressing room, and her attitude toward even her boss rivaled a Doberman’s.

Vincent was waving his arms but shouting over Cheyenne’s shoulder at Hank. The bartender was standing in the dressing room doorway, arms crossed. Cheyenne had obviously called for reinforcements.

“This is my business, and I can go wherever—”

A voice from the hallway entrance said, “No, you can’t.”

A tall, middle-aged man, his hair peppered with gray, stepped out of the corridor’s shadows. He filled out his suit coat rather nicely, in Charlie’s opinion. Pushing back his hat, his gaze passed over each as if assessing everyone as possible suspects. Vincent’s face was red, and he huffed through tight lips. Cheyenne clutched her robe’s opening in trembling hands, and Hank shifted his weight as he continued to guard the dressing room door.

The detective turned to a uniformed officer behind him. “Secure the area. Get the names of those out front and everyone here.”

Charlie hazard a glance at Kandy. She’d pulled the girl through the backstage but only now realized the girl had lost her lover. Kandy’s chin quivered as tears threatened to spill down her face at any moment.

While the detective spoke to the officer, Charlie hissed at Kandy. “Don’t answer any questions without me. I’m still your lawyer.”

Kandy’s head bobbed in understanding.

Returning his attention to those in the room, he asked, “Who called this in?”

“I did, sir,” Charlie said, raising her hand.

He pointed a pencil at her and used it to direct her to the far corner of the room. “You others, wait here.”

The man introduced himself as Detective Jack Matthews and pulled out a small pad from his pocket. “Tell me what happened.”

Following a deep breath, Charlie exhaled slowly as she collected both her thoughts and her nerves. No detective had ever interviewed her before. The Austin police had stopped her once or twice for minor traffic infractions, but this was a totally different matter. After a brief mental review of the definition of homicide, she described Billy Ray leaving Devereaux’s office, being dismissed by the club owner, her conversation with Hank, and then seeking out Billy Ray—only to find him strangled in his dressing room.

Matthews listened attentively, jotting down notes. When she paused, he studied first his notes, then her. “Deveraux followed him? Did he go into the dressing room?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Cheyenne might. She was at the make-up mirror when I got there.”

“Which one of you is Cheyenne?” he called to the others. When she raised a shaking hand, he said, “Come over here.”

Charlie gave her what she hoped was an encouraging smile as they passed each other.

From across the room, she observed Cheyenne’s interview. Too far away to hear the conversation, she could only guess what the dancer was saying. The dancer’s hands fidgeted with the belt on her robe, and her gaze darted around the room. She pointed to the dressing room, to the passage behind the stage that led to Devereaux’s office, and then to Kandy.

The detective’s questioning continued in this manner with Deveraux and Hank. Finally, pointed at Kandy, “Your turn, miss, but we’ll be doing it at the station.”

Her eyes rounded. “You don’t think—”

“Don’t say a word,” Charlie said, cutting her off. She turned to Matthews. “I’m her attorney. You’ll not be questioning her without me present. I’ll drive her to the station.”

Before Matthews could object, she gripped Kandy’s arm and pulled her through the lounge to her car.

Kandy wept in earnest when they climbed into Charlie’s old Beetle. Before putting the car in gear, she turned to her client. “We only have about ten minutes to the police station. I need to know what happened in your words. Step by step. Start with getting to the lounge when I saw you in Devereaux’s office.”

Charlie pulled from the parking space and waited for Kandy to begin.

“I…I needed my money,” she said through hiccups. “I…came in the back entrance by Vincent’s office, but he wasn’t there, so I went to see Billy Ray.”

“Was Cheyenne there? Did she see you go into Billy Ray’s dressing room?”

“No. No one was outside. Vincent was in the dressin’ room with Billy Ray. They were arguin’ because Billy Ray told him we were movin’ to Vegas. He - "

“‘We?’”

Her chin bobbed. “Billy Ray and I are—were—gettin’ married. I’m goin’ to have a baby.”

They were on the edge of downtown Dallas. Charlie jerked the wheel to the right, pulled next to the curb, and slammed on the brakes.

“You’re pregnant.”

Another chin bob. “Like I said, that’s why I needed the money. So we could move. Billy Ray’s already got a gig as an openin’ act in Vegas, but we need money to get there.”

This put a new wrinkle on the case, but she considered it in Kandy’s favor. Why would she kill the father of her baby? Jealousy might be the reason if others were aware. But she was getting ahead of herself. She needed Kandy’s story first. “So they were arguing, and you...?”

“Went into the dressin’ room. Their hands were around each other’s throats. I screamed, and Cheyenne ran in. We pulled them off each other. Vincent stormed out. Billy Ray was coughing, and Cheyenne went to get him a glass of water. I ran after Vicent to see if I could get my money.

“He was in his office and suddenly, all nice and reasonable. I suspected something, but he wrote the check, so I didn’t ask. That’s when you came runnin’ in.”

“Did you see anyone when you left the dressing room?”

She shook her head.

“What about the scarf? Do you recognize it?”

“It’s…It’s…Billy Ray’s. He had several. He’d throw them out into the crowd.” The weeping returned.

Charlie rubbed her temples, processing the information. All this happened in what? Fifteen-twenty minutes? Between when she left Vincent and then went backstage to talk to Billy Ray. Hank was clear, but Cheyenne...

“What do you know about Cheyenne?”

She shrugged. “She’s only been workin’ at the lounge for about a month. I guess she was tryin’ to learn the ropes because she used to come watch the show in the evenin’. Vincent hired her in part because they started seein’ each other.”

She was missing something. The tension between the two men, Kandy’s pregnancy, and Devereaux’s sudden change of heart—motives and opportunities for several all tangled among them. She glanced at Kandy’s tear-streaked face.

Her first duty was to her client, but she also wanted justice for Billy Ray. She only hoped they weren’t opposing goals.

To be continued.....

Those links again:

Mayhem and Motives: here.

Your free copy of PreKill: here

Trouble in Texas: Metroplex Mysteries Volume IV: here

For those in the U.S., April 15 is Coming!

Liese