Candidate for Murder
Candidate
for
Murder
A Mac Faraday Mystery
By
Lauren Carr
Candidate for Murder: Book Information
All Rights Reserved © 2016 by Lauren Carr
Published by Acorn Book Services
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author.
For information call: 304-995-1295
or Email: writerlaurencarr@gmail.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Candidate for Murder: Book Information
Dedication
Cast of Characters
Epigraph
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Epilogue
Dedication
To My Muse—
The Real Gnarly
Cast of Characters
(in order of appearance)
Gnarly: Mac Faraday’s German shepherd. Before Mac inherited him from Robin Spencer, Gnarly served in the United States Army, who refuses to talk about him.
Lieutenant Frank Watson: Leader of an army unit stationed in the Iraqi desert. He is Gnarly’s commanding officer. Those who serve under him call him “Patton.”
First Sergeant Scott Scalia: Soldier in Lieutenant Watson and Gnarly’s unit.
First Sergeant Belle Perkins: Gnarly’s handler and partner when he was in the army.
Private Drew Samuels: Soldier on Gnarly’s team. Gnarly stepped up to bat to save him, Private Samuels does the same for him.
Police Chief David O’Callaghan: Spencer’s chief of police. Mac Faraday’s younger half-brother by their father, Patrick O’Callaghan, Spencer’s late police chief.
Police Chief Patrick O’Callaghan: David’s late father. Spencer’s legendary police chief. The love of Robin Spencer’s life and Mac Faraday’s birth father.
Dallas Walker: David O’Callaghan’s girlfriend. Investigative journalist. Comes from Texas.
Storm: A Belgian shepherd, Storm is Dallas’ canine companion and Gnarly’s good friend.
Tonya: Spencer Police Department Desk Sergeant. She runs things at the police station.
Nancy Braxton: Candidate for Spencer’s first woman mayor. Wife of Nathan Braxton and chair of Braxton Charities. She has been running unsuccessfully for public office for three decades. If she fails in this election, she’ll be running for dog catcher.
Nathan Braxton: Nancy’s husband. Former professional football player. Super Bowl winning quarterback.
Sandy Burr: Investigative journalist found dead in a bath tub in his hotel room at the Lakeside Inn. Both wrists were slashed with a razor blade. Suicide note found on the bed, but many believe it was murder.
George Ward: State chairman for Nancy Braxton’s political party. He’ll go to any lengths for her to win.
Erin Devereux: Nancy’s executive assistant. She holds the record for longest time in her position.
Officers Fletcher, Brewster, and Zigler: Officers with the Spencer Police Department. They serve under Police Chief David O’Callaghan.
Bill Clark: Candidate for Spencer’s mayor. Member of the town council. Born and raised locally.
Deputy Chief Arthur Bogart (Bogie): Spencer’s Deputy Police Chief. David’s godfather. Don’t let his gray hair and weathered face fool you.
Fiona Davis: Witness in Sandy Burr case. She had dinner with victim hours before his death.
Bernie and Hap: Two of Spencer’s beloved characters. They become Gnarly’s campaign managers.
Mac Faraday: Retired homicide detective. On the day his divorce became final, he inherited $270 million and an estate on Deep Creek Lake from his birth mother, Robin Spencer.
Robin Spencer: Mac Faraday’s late birth mother and world-famous mystery author. As an unwed teenager, she gave him up for adoption. After becoming America’s queen of mystery, she found her son and made him her heir. Her ancestors founded Spencer, Maryland, located on the shore of Deep Creek Lake, a resort area in Western Maryland.
Archie Monday: Former editor and research assistant to world-famous mystery author Robin Spencer. She is now Mac Faraday’s wife.
Dr. Dora Washington: Garrett County Medical Examiner.
Jessica Faraday: Mac Faraday’s lovely daughter. Attending Georgetown University School of Medicine for doctorate in forensics psychology. Her inheritance from Robin Spencer thrust her into high society, which she left when she married Murphy Thornton.
Murphy Thornton: Jessica’s husband. Second Lieutenant in the United States Navy. Naval Academy graduate. He’s not your average navy officer.
Tawkeel Said: Murphy’s colleague and friend.
Marilyn Newton: She breaks all stereotypes for middle-aged church ladies. She campaigns to win the evanglical vote for Gnarly.
Sheriff Christopher Turow: Garrett County Sheriff. Retired army officer. His wife was killed while serving in Iraq. He’s one of the good guys.
Carmine Romano: Owner of Carmine’s Pizza. He’s endorsing Gnarly.
Cassandra Clark: Bill Clark’s third wife. Less than a year after they said “I do,” the honeymoon appears to be over.
Hugh Vance: Nancy Braxton’s brother. He runs Braxton Charities.
Caleb Montgomery: Reluctant witness in a cold murder case.
Nigel: Jessica Faraday and Murphy Thornton’s butler.
Spencer/Candi: Jessica Faraday’s blue merle Shetland sheepdog.
Newman: Murphy’s bassett hound. He’s a couch potato.
Tristan Faraday: Mac Faraday’s son. Professional student at George Washington University. He’s an intellectual and proud of it.
Sarah Thornton: Naval academy cadet. Murphy’s sister. Tristan’s girlfriend.
Salma Rameriz: Producer of a local news program. Her type of journalism knows nothing about being fair and unbiased.
CO: Murphy’s commanding officer. She leads the Phantoms.
Bruce Hardy: Agent with the Central Intelligence Agency. Worked undercover in the Middle East.
Newt Wallace: Executive Officer to the Director of Operations of the Central Intelligence Agency
Camille Jurvetson: Director of Operations at the Central Intelligence Agency.
Simon Spears: Bill Clark’s campaign manager.
Epigraph
Politics have no relation to morals..
Niccolò Machiavelli
Italian author, 1469–1527
Prologue
Four Years Ago—Iraqi Desert near the Border of Syria
The blazing sun and sweltering heat made it impossible to sleep in past sunrise in the military camp. Members of the army squad moved about quietly as if there was some possibility that their teammates could sleep in.
Courtesy wasn’t the sole reason for their silence. The entire camp was grieving over four soldiers who had been killed the afternoon before.
Dressed in desert fatigues, Lieutenant Frank Watson exited his tent into the bright morning sun and stretched. Directly across from his quarters was First Sergeant Belle Perkins’ tent, which was eerily quiet. Recalling the events of the day before, the officer sucked in a deep breath.
“Good morning, sir.” First Sergeant Scott Scalia trotted up to his commanding officer. “Sleep okay?”
The angst was etched on his face. Rarely, if ever, had the soldier seen the lieutenant smile. “How do you think? Cut yourself shaving, Sergeant?”
Scalia rubbed his fingers along the deep scratch across his jaw. “No, that happened during the ambush yesterday. Still came out much better than many in our team, and it would have been much worse if it hadn’t been for your exceptional leadership.” The young soldier’s face glowed in the morning sun. “Your ability to command in the hottest—”
“Did you get in touch with command?” Lieutenant Watson cut the sergeant off.
“Sending a chopper to pick up their bodies this afternoon,” Scalia said. “Unfortunately, sir, it looks like we’ve got another problem.”
“Another?”
“Frost is missing, sir.”
Lieutenant Watson’s eyes grew wide before immediately narrowing to slits. “Missing? Are you sure, Sergeant?”
“Yes, sir,” Scalia said. “Mr. Frost requested that I wake him this morning to give him the ETA for the helicopter transport because he had a pouch going to HQ. I went there just now, and he wasn’t in his tent.”
“Maybe he’s—”
“Not in the mess tent, sir.” Scalia was ahead of him. “No one has seen him, sir. Plus his gear appears to be gone, sir.”
“Damn it!” Lieutenant Watson said. “We’ve been escorting that damn contractor all over this hell they call a desert for the last month. We’ve lost six members of our squad protecting his butt. Two last week and four—”
Scalia shot a glance in the direction of the first sergeant’s tent. “The way things went down yesterday—it would have been a whole lot worse if it hadn’t been for Perkins and Gnarly. The way they had all of us pinned—”
The howl that came from the tent was heard across the camp. Soldiers spilled out of their tents and ran to First Sergeant Belle Perkins’ tent to uncover the cause of her canine partner’s distress.
Lieutenant Frank Watson was the first one inside. The interior of the tent was a shambles. The bed had been overturned. They found her German shepherd draped across her dead body. The dog was licking her from one side of her face to the other, and they were unsure of whether he was doing so in the hope of bringing his master back to life or because he wanted to kiss her farewell. When he received no response, he threw back his head and uttered a long, mournful howl.
“Whoever took Frost must have killed Perkins!” When the lieutenant stepped toward them, the German shepherd lunged at him with a hundred pounds of fur and teeth.
Grabbing for his service weapon, the army officer fell back.
“Maybe Gnarly went nuts and turned on her,” one of the soldiers said as his canine teammate snarled at them from where he was standing protectively in front of Sergeant Perkins. “I’ve heard of that happening—PTS.”
“Stand down!” Another soldier familiar with dogs pushed through the throng of soldiers, all of whom had their hands on their weapons and were ready to take down the anxious canine. “He got hurt in the ambush yesterday. Dogs instinctively feel the need to protect themselves and their partners—especially when they’re injured.” Slowly, the soldier inched forward.
“You’re going to get yourself killed, Samuels,” Scalia said. “We all saw what that dog did to those terrorists yesterday.”
“Yeah, I saw.” Private Drew Samuels continued inching forward with his hand held out to the German shepherd. “Gnarly stuck his neck out to save our butts. We can stick our necks out to help him—he deserves that at the very least.”
Samuels was within striking distance of the dog. Gnarly sniffed his hand.
Aiming his gun at the dog, the lieutenant said, “If he tries anything, I’m taking him out.”
“Give me a chance.”
Gnarly’s grand bronze-colored ears fell back, and he uttered a whine while glancing over his shoulder and back at the woman lying on the floor of the tent behind him.
“I know, boy.” Samuels dared to touch the top of Gnarly’s head. “We want to help her. Let me look.” While stroking the German shepherd, the army medic moved past him to look down at the K-9 handler.
She was dressed in her fatigue pants and a T-shirt. Sprawled out on the floor, she was gazing up at the ceiling with dead eyes.
Everyone in the camp squeezed in through the door. Those unable to get inside stood on their toes and looked past their fellow soldiers to catch a glimpse of the dead K-9 officer and her partner, who was lying next to her with his snout buried in her dark hair.
Looking down at Gnarly, the commanding officer asked, “What happened here?”
Chapter One
Present Day—Spencer, Maryland
“You didn’t tell me you were into blindfolds,” Dallas Walker said to David O’Callaghan. “Call me a prude, but I’m gettin’ nervous as a fly in a glue pot.”
“Whatever that means.” David peered closely at her face to make sure that she couldn’t see through the bandana he had tied around her head.
While the lanky brunette had never exhibited any trouble moving around in her high heels, the process of walking down the circular staircase in David’s luxurious house on the shore of Deep Creek Lake while blindfolded was a different story. Every window in the home, which had been built in the shape of a circle, provided a lake view.
Their long-distance courtship was proving to be a success. Dallas Walker, who was in her midtwenties, owned a thousand-acre ranch in Texas that made some demands on her. As one of the heirs to a billion-dollar fortune, she did have a full staff of ranch hands to keep the operation going, but her love for the quarter horses she bred demanded that she return to Texas periodically.
Yet her investigative-journalism career required frequent and unexpected trips away from both homes to follow leads for particularly juicy cases.
As the chief of police in the small resort town of Spencer, Maryland, David O’Callaghan found that he was enjoying his freedom when Dallas was gone—and enjoying their passionate reunions when she returned.
With his investigative instincts, he had not failed to notice that Dallas was moving into his home one suitcase at a time. The latest piece of luggage was a dog crate that contained a Belgian shepherd named Storm. Slightly smaller than a German she
pherd, she had a thick sable coat and a bushy tail that caused her to remind David of a giant fox.
After being apart from Dallas for a full month, David was anxious to pull out all of the romantic stops for her return, including a home-cooked dinner of Chateaubriand for two, candlelight, and champagne. It was his first venture in trying to cook a gourmet meal.
While Dallas had been upstairs getting dressed for their evening in, David had set the perfect table and put on soft lights and music. He then escorted her to the dining area.
As Dallas maneuvered down the stairs in her high heels, David kept a firm hold on her while admiring her long legs, which were displayed in a short skirt. Her thick, wavy locks spilled down to the middle of her back. Once they reached the bottom of the stairs, he ushered her over to the table. “Okay, take off the blindfold.”
Anxious to see her expression, David watched her push the bandana up and over her head. Her light-brown eyes met his sparkling-blue ones. Then, as she looked beyond him to the romantically set dinner table, her eyes grew wide with shock. Her mouth dropped open.
Not expecting such a reaction, David turned around just as she let out a shriek followed by loud laughter.
David had set the table for two with a place setting at each end of the table. Painstakingly, he had arranged their main entrée and garnished each plate to make it a work of art. There was a crystal champagne flute next to each plate and a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket in the middle of the table.
Everything was as David had left it when he’d run upstairs to fetch Dallas—except for two additions.
Two additional guests had made themselves at home at the table and were in the process of cleaning the plates of the last remnants of the meal.
David’s multimillionaire half-brother, Mac Faraday, had left his dog, Gnarly, a hundred-pound German shepherd, in his care and had taken his wife, Archie Monday, on a river cruise in Europe. While Gnarly had a mind of his own, David usually didn’t have any trouble with him—until he met Storm.
The Belgian shepherd’s sweet, loving manner concealed her true nature, which David suspected was conniving—especially when she joined forces with Gnarly, the mastermind of the pair. In the very short time that the two dogs had known each other, the hundred-pound German and the female Belgian had become partners in crime.