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Full Throttle Series Book One
BY JUANITA D. HOUSTON
Race car driver Hunter Jackson wants justice for his friend who dies of an apparent overdose and blames himself for not seeing the signs soon enough. In a strange twist of fate he becomes the prime suspect.
Detective Makayla Brennan doesn’t believe it. But it’s a man’s world and after an altercation with her new partner she finds herself suspended from the force.
At a loss, she begins spending more and more time with Hunter at the racetrack where she learns things- and people are not what they seem.
She finds herself drawn into a deadly game of cat and mouse. Makayla must figure out who is supplying the tainted drugs before anyone else dies.
Before she loses Hunter forever.
“You sure about this?” Hunter asked.
“Lead the way,” she told Fisher in reply to Hunter’s question. She held her companion back a couple of feet so they could talk without being overheard, though she wouldn’t say anything out of school. “It’s okay, I’m sure he just wants to know why I’m here.”
“He probably knows I’m a detective and thinks I’m investigating,” she whispered. “I’d like to keep my suspension under wraps for now, okay? I want to feel the owner out.”
“Yeah, you told me you were taking some personal time and wanted to learn more about my hobby,” he whispered back.
“Thank you,” she whispered, then louder so Fisher could hear, “If you don’t want to stay here to eat, we don’t have to.”
“Hey, let the man feed us. They’re going to want to know what happened and won’t leave us alone until they found out.” He released her hand as she entered the lobby of the office building.
“Stay here while I show Miss Brennan to the owner’s office,” Fisher ordered Hunter.
“It’s okay, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She buzzed his cheek with a quick kiss. “I’ll scream for you if I have any problems,” she said loud enough for Moore’s man to hear.
“I want to hear you scream, but not due to Moore,” he teased, smiling when she blushed. “I’ll be right here waiting.”
She waited until he sat, taking a place where he could see the door Fisher held open for her.
Makayla glanced around as they strode passed dark offices. “Y’all could use a decorator around here,” she snarked. “Kind of bland décor.”
“It’s a business, not a gallery.”
“If you say so.” She followed him down the hall glancing inside open doors and for anything suspicious. “He’s waiting for you in here.” The man with a crew cut opened the office door and stepped aside for her to enter. “I’ll be waiting up front with Mr. Jackson, per your request.”
Moore stood and rounded his desk when she entered. “Miss Brennan, it’s nice to meet you, finally.”
Her brows shot up in surprise. “Finally? I’m sorry, did I miss something?” I’d definitely remember someone who looked like an overweight version of the Godfather character, she thought.
“Please, won’t you have a seat?” he gestured to a chair in front of his desk as he scooted behind to his. “In answer to your question, we haven’t ever met, but I’ve heard of you.”
“From whom?” she asked as she sat.
“I believe Edward Scott mentioned you.”
She felt the weight of his stare as if waiting for a reaction. She worked to keep her features schooled. “Oh, of course. I’m not surprised you know him, but if I were you, I’d be careful what you believe. After all he’s a shyster.”
“Trouble in paradise?”
She snorted a laugh. “Paradise? What did he tell you exactly?”
“I heard a rumor you two were engaged.”
“Sorry to hear that. What brings you here, Miss Brennan?”
“Hunter invited me.” She crossed one leg over the other. “What do you want, Mr. Moore? What’s your game?”
“I wondered if you were here in an official capacity.”
“Official?” She frowned.
“Investigating the recent death out here?”
“Oh that. No, I’m not here in any official capacity. If I were, I’d have shown my ID at the gate and asked for you first. Not that’s it’s any of your business, but I’m taking some personal time off.”
“Really? Can our department afford to allow you time off during an important investigation?”
“According to my boss, we have plenty of manpower, and we do get vacations, too, Mr. Moore.”
“What about the death at the track?”
She shrugged. “Not my investigation anyway. You need to talk to my partner, Kirk Meyers, who is handling the case if you want any information. Or you could call the station and ask Captain Levine.”
“Then why are you here, Detective?”
“Mr. Moore, as I said, I’m on vacation and I’m out here for fun with my friend. I’m in no way involved in the death investigation. I love cars and Hunter is in the car business.” She stood again. “What I do on my off time is none of your damn business.”
“You’re right, but surely you’re aware of Mr. Jackson being under suspicion in the death of Brad Endicott.”
“Based on what?” She’d reached the end of her patience.
“It’s what I’ve heard from the other detective, Meyers, is it?”
“Detective Meyers has his opinion, but it doesn’t make it fact, and he has no evidence of his claim.”
“Well, I’m sure your father wouldn’t want you to associate with someone who is possibly involved in a man’s death.”
She chuckled and leveled him with her own stare. “And there it is. I wondered how long it would take you to bring him into the conversation.”
“Excuse me?” he frowned.
“When your father is the DA, it’s going to come up in a conversation or two.” She leaned on the desk, her palms flat on the top. “I’m only going to say this once. I’m not here for anything other than fun. Who I spend time with shouldn’t concern you or anyone else here at the track, are we clear?”
“Yes, but heed my advice, Miss Brennen. If Jackson is involved, he’ll take you down with him.”
She smirked. “I’m sorry but you must be confusing Hunter with Ed Scott. He’s the one you should be worried about if you associate with him. I’m going to leave now. You stay out of my business, and I’ll stay out of yours.” She turned but stopped at the door. “If that’s a problem, Mr. Moore, I can easily make my visits official, if you’d prefer.”
Juanita D. Houston has been an avid writer for most of her life, but in the last decade, she immersed herself in her passion. She joined several writing groups, like Malice in Memphis Mystery Writers group, where she attended Mid-South Con and the rest, as they say, was history.
Enthralled with her love of mysteries, Juanita has written several short stories in anthologies with Malice in Memphis and Dark Oak Press. Juanita’s continues to publish a collection of short stories and soon, a new romantic suspense series.
When she is not painting or quilling, you can find Juanita living in West Tennessee with her beloved husband, a local car salesman and retired Navy Senior Chief.
Links to Juanita’s website, blog, books, etc.
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