Twice Kissed - Lisa Jackson [177]
In her second smash outing, Nancy Bush’s wickedly funny heroine, Jane Kelly, proves herself a worthy successor to Stephanie Plum, but with a wit, style, and dog that are definitely all her own.
Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek at
Nancy Bush’s
ELECTRIC BLUE
coming in hardcover in October 2006!
Mental illness runs in the Purcell family.
I’d diligently typed this conclusion at the top of the report written on my word-processing program. I’d been so full of myself, so pleased with my thorough research and keen detecting skills, that I’d smiled a Cheshire-cat smile for weeks on end. That smug grin hung around just like the cat’s. It was on my face when I woke in the morning and it was there on my lips as I closed my eyes at night.
I spent hours in self-congratulation:
Oh, Jane Kelly, private investigator extraordinaire. How easy it is for you to be a detective. How good you are at your job. How exceptional you are in your field!
However….
I wasn’t smiling now.
Directly in front of me was a knife-wielding, delusional, growling schizophrenic—the situation a direct result of my investigation into the Purcells. In disbelief I danced left and right, frantic to avoid serious injury. I looked into the rolling eyes of my attacker and felt doomed. Doomed and downright furious at Dwayne Durbin. It was his fault I was here! It was his ridiculous belief in my abilities that had put me in harm’s way! Hadn’t I told him I’m no good at confrontation? Hadn’t I made it clear that I’m damn near chickenhearted? Doesn’t he ever listen to me?
His fervent belief in me was going to get me killed!
Gritting my teeth, I thought: I hope I live long enough to kill Dwayne first…
I was deep into the grunt work necessary to earn my license as a private investigator. Dwayne Durbin, my mentor, had finally convinced me I would be good at the job. His cheerleading on my behalf was not entirely altruistic; he wanted me to come and work for him.
I’d resisted for a while but circumstances had arisen over the summer that had persuaded me Dwayne just might be right. So, in September I became Dwayne Durbin’s apprentice—and then I became his slave, spending my time putting in the hours, digging through records, doing all his dog work—which really irritated me, more at myself than him, because I’d known this was going to happen.
And though I resented all the crap work thrown my way, Dwayne wasn’t really around enough for me to work up a head of steam and vent my feelings. He was embroiled in a messy divorce case for Camellia “Cammie” Purcell Denton. His association with the Purcell family was why I’d delved into the Purcell family history in the first place. I admit this was more for my own edification than any true need on Dwayne’s part, but I figured it couldn’t hurt.
That particular September afternoon—the afternoon I wrote my conclusion on the report—was sunny and warm and lazy. It was a pleasure to sit on Dwayne’s couch, a piece of furniture I’d angled toward his sliding glass door for a shining view of the waters of Lake Chinook. I could look over the top of my laptop as I wirelessly searched databases and historical archives and catch a glimpse of sunlight bouncing like diamonds against green waters.
Resentment faded. Contentment returned. After all, it’s difficult to hold a grudge when, apart from some tedium, life was pretty darn good. My rent was paid, my mother’s impending visit had yet to materialize, my brother was too involved with his fiancée to pay me much attention, and I had a dog who thought I was…well…the cat’s meow.
I finished the report and typed my name on the first page, mentally patting myself on the