On this mild August morning, too beautiful to believe, I’m standing outside in the front of our little colonial placed in a Currier and Ives New England setting. I’m waiting for Lillian, my mother-in-law, to drive up the pebble and dirt driveway of Peaceable Kingdom, our nine-acre farm and animal preserve. My three-month-old cradled in my arms smells like heaven. She’s gazing up at me with her warm brown eyes that are just like her dad’s.
I stare across our farm to the east, the back pasture, where our two sheep, our goat and our seven dogs are roaming; all rescued animals. The tomato garden is around back, and the fragrance from the summer ripened tomatoes with their thick juicy vines, and the steaming mulch wafts through the air like a heavenly scent blessing the moment.
I put my cheek to Leonora’s soft baby cheek, she’s my one and only since I’m forty-seven, you see. So, she’s my miracle baby. Did I mention that Jerry, my husband, is eleven years younger than I?
I don’t make things easy for myself do I?
But perhaps that’s why everything seems so perfect. Jerry and I found love later in life and our shared values and beliefs made the age difference disappear. Our love seemed like a storybook romance, and now we have Leonora.
We live in Wilton, Connecticut where Jerry’s is a police detective. So, while it’s peaceful now, everything can change in a few seconds. Then, very undeservedly, I’m thought of as a sort of local hero for my expose’s written when I was a reporter for a town weekly and then a Norwalk daily. While investigating the couple of criminal cases I wrote about, I was forced to be a bit of an amateur sleuth and did, with Jerry’s help, assist in solving the crimes. The town’s people, however, give me full credit as if the police had nothing to do with it.
So, when in trouble, people have shown up to ask for my help. I was glad to do it when I was a reporter, but now I hug Leonora even closer afraid of losing time with her for any reason.
We can hear Lillian driving up the driveway, the gravel scraping under the car’s wheels. I continue to take-in the sweet farm air as I hold my baby to me in my new-found motherhood bliss, putting the moment to memory. I don’t want to leave her even to go to shopping. She’s in her little pink pinafore-her tiny shoulders-a thing to behold, and I grasp at this rarified moment.
You can read more about Carol in Keys To Nowhere, the third book in the “Carol Rossi” mystery series.
A Tucson vacation morphs into terror when two teenage girls and their aunt vanish. The desperate parents turn to their friend and Connecticut investigative journalist Carol Rossi. Rossi has no choice but to leave her infant daughter, her police detective husband, and her farm animals to lead the hunt through the desert. It’s 1985 and Rossi is chasing down a new kind of danger: the serial killer.
When the Tucson police aren’t interested in her theories, Rossi acts alone before the killer can strike again.
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About the author
Dorothy Hayes, a staff writer for local Connecticut newspapers for five years, received and honorary award for her in-depth series on Vietnam Veterans from the Society of Professional Journalists. Prior to that she was a Language Arts teacher. A staff writer for a national animal protection organization, for six years, she wrote her first novel, Animal Instinct, in 2006. Dorothy lives in Stamford, Connecticut with her husband, Arthur. She also raised four children, and is the mother-in-law to three, grandmother to fourteen and great-grandmother to Bella.
Her other books in the Carol Rossi Mystery Series are: Murder at the P&Z, 2013 and Broken Window, 2015. Her short story, Back from the War, was published by Mysterical-E, December 2016.
She is a member of Sisters-in-Crime-Tri-State Chapter, and Mystery Writers of American. Visit her at dorothyhayes.com.
All comments are welcomed.
Giveaway: Leave a comment below for your chance to win a print copy of Keys to Nowhere. US entries only, please. The giveaway ends March 24, 2017. Good luck everyone!
Keys to Nowhere is available at retail and online booksellers.