MURDER TIMES THREE

                                 Link to order the novel-: Murder Times  Three-A Waverly Place Mystery 

                                                                                               SYNOPSIS

Riley, an asexual retired fraud investigator, discovers three dead bodies; a father (Ned), his daughter (Millie) and gay son (Conner) who all live in a large mansion called Waverly Place. Their deaths may have been caused by a pandemic, but there is also a suspect -- the gay caregiver (Asher) hired to take care of Ned and Waverly Place. During the novel, Asher forms a sexual relationship with both Millie and Conner.

Riley becomes an amateur sleuth with the help of Felix, The Cat, the creator of the podcast, Sofa Investigators. As Riley searches for Asher and finally locates him, Asher awakens Riley’s own suppressed sexuality, and they become lovers. Riley receives assistance from the feline living at Waverly Place who actually witnessed a murder.

EXCERPT FROM MURDER TIMES THREE-WRITTEN BY  GORDON BLITZ: 

In January 2021, Riley’s daily walk had a new purpose. The unsightly pile of Los Angeles Times and a pile of Amazon boxes on the welcome mat of Waverly Place was the trigger point for Riley to solve the mystery of the tomb-like house. In the past, he would have used this type of mystery as a jumping-off idea for a novel, but he had given up writing after three failed attempts.

The mail slot jutting out of the red cedar door stuffed with envelopes ready to burst created further spookiness. Riley knew the preponderance of the flyers were from realtors offering zillions of dollars to purchase Waverly Place or were notifications from the state about converting the house to affordable housing for the homeless.

If their longstanding mailman, Trevor, worked the street, he would have been proactive about the mail, checking up on the owners or keeping the excess mail at the post office. Trevor had been their resident delivery man for thirty years and abruptly stopped ten years before. No explanation. The replacement was a Millennial, who wore earbuds and never spoke. And if a dog was unleashed, the letter carrier refused to deliver the mail, unlike Trevor who had a reputation as a dog whisperer. Trevor could calm any size dog, from a German shepherd to a beagle.

 When he pushed the buzzer, Riley was not sure it worked. He tried the knocker but in a 3,000-square feet house, it was unlikely the tenants would hear it. So, Riley resorted to plan B. Each resident on the block had provided a key to the Ashton Neighborhood Association for emergency entrance. Riley had checked the Waverly Place registration on file with the association to ensure that there was no security alarm. No barking was another good omen that he wouldn’t be attacked by a wild animal. His thought processes felt like he was having a reunion with his profession as a fraud investigator —a passion he had been lacking since retirement.

Still, Riley felt like a thief breaking and entering. He knew Ned’s adult children lived with him, and he worried about making an unannounced visit in the unlikely event that they were armed. But the towering newspapers and untouched mail initiated his suspicions. Riley nearly tripped when he stepped over the supermarket ads, People magazines, and junk mail scattered in the entryway.

After an unanswered, “Is anyone home?” Riley proceeded to move beyond the entrance hall into the living room. The drop in temperature from the outside balminess along with a spoonful of apprehension brought a chilly vibration to his bones. But when he saw the main room, he thought he was in a nightmarish Architectural Digest home. It felt like the olive, dark green and russet colors were dripping from the beams, fireplace mantel, built-in shelves and wood wainscots. The straight-line colonial craftsman-looking ornamental-free furniture and decorations didn’t express any warmth. It had that museum quality, everything-in-its-place, no-one-lived-here, atmosphere. Riley wondered if Ned was planning on selling, and if it had been staged by a real estate broker with no taste. Forty years of fraud investigator work had made him hyper-sensitive to surroundings and what kind of clues they represented.

The bedrooms were on the second floor, and Riley carefully climbed the oak stairs that felt either varnished or waxed because of the slipperiness on his Reebok sneakers. He was tempted to use the wheelchair lift but a sense of pride about his own mobility stopped him. The sun beaming through the skylight at the top of the stairs greeted him, and it made the chill he had felt on the first floor dissipate, different from the dark and dank first floor.

When Riley stared at the doors in the hallway, he was reminded of the Rabbit Hole from Alice in Wonderland, where all the doors were locked except the single miniature door where Alice would have to shrink in order to pass through. In Waverly Place, only one door was left open. With trepidation, he squeezed himself into the darkened and quiet room. Riley recognized that the woman lying on her side, in bed, was Ned’s daughter, Millie. The way her long yellow-brown hair was draped down her back gave her a lion quality. Riley couldn’t believe that Ned’s son, Conner, was Millie’s sibling. She was an exploding force while Conner had a skeleton’s personality.

Because of the way the light exposed Millie, Riley hadn’t realized how large the port birthmark on her neck was. On the nightstand sat a stainless-steel canister that was part of an inhaler -- a familiar item that his asthmatic mother, Edith, had used. Near the canister were paper cups filled with tomato juice, coffee and milk, like the drinks that Edith had consumed to ward off an asthmatic attack. He laughed to himself, thinking again about the reference in Alice in Wonderland where Alice finds a potion that says, Drink Me.

 Millie was napping in her bedroom’s serenity. Rather than disturb her vocally or nudge her, Riley decided to open the blinds. The way the sun seeped between the wood slats looked like rainbow gems dancing upon the bedroom wall, and Riley’s eyes wanted to applaud the effect.