Below is an excerpt from David Raymond’s new set in Miami novel, The Game Is Afoot, available for purchase by clicking here.
GREAT SCOTT! That was close. Shadow was fabulous and our connection was undeniable; however, I had been in her company but a few hours at that point, and no lass was worth getting my bits blown to bits. Despite my exuberance regarding peeks into my past, I was contemplating returning to my safe little shack behind Jimbo’s and having a nice lie down. After all, Virginia Key was directly across the channel. If I waited until the shooting subsided, I could swim there. I only needed to paddle faster than the bull sharks. I was about to take my leave, however one look into Shadow’s shining eyes and oxytocin flowed between us as current moves through a wire. Additionally, this spy stuff was, as the young people say, cool AF. A mermaid sex resort! Bullet proof doors! A secret tunnel! Let’s not forget the thrill of the chase, although at the time, we were the ones being pursued.
“I’d imagine Moriarty, or her people, would have better aim. Dissatisfied customer?” Shadow questioned.
“Vlad Gorbachecov. Afraid right before your father took me off active duty, I slipped up and released some photos of him dressed as the prime minister,” Dolly said.
“Doesn’t sound so bad,” Eren said.
“It was Margaret Thatcher,” replied Dolly.
“No wonder he’s trying to kill you,” japed Tuesday.
“Oh no, dearie. Just a bit of spy fun. He vowed to scare me to my dying day. Now, hurry along before I forget where I’m off to.”
We followed Dolly down a passage to a glistening underwater lagoon which smelled like last week’s yoga pants. Dolly peered into a swim mask hanging from a hook, thus opening a rock wall, and we found ourselves viewing a chamber fantastical enough to provide fodder for Carl Sagan’s nocturnal emissions.
“Welcome to The Bee,” Dolly said as we entered.
Shadow studied the place, “Father couldn’t have worked here. Too many shiny gadgets for his delicate eyes. And no immense wooden desk, but that out of place recliner in the corner bears his bounteous butt print. This is your workplace, Dolly.”
“Honk!” Dolly blew her nose and sniffled. “Just like Arthur. He should be around any minute. Shadow Holmes, what are you doing here?”
“Hello, Dolly. You were just about to show us the crime scene photos.”
“Blimey. Sorry, dearie. 007, be a dear and show us the classified crime scene photos.”
“You named the computer 007? This is going to be a hoot! Whoopsie,” Tuesday said, tripping, falling to the ground.
“Oh no, dearie. It was Guinevere’s idea. She designed the thing.”
Et tu, Mother! She said she was designing a recipe website! She even cooked the dishes for us. That coq au vin was scrumptious. Liar. Why didn’t you tell me? Maybe, I could have saved you … maybe, Shadow lamented silently.
“Voice and facial recognition accepted. As requested, Special Agent Jolly,” 007 responded.
Images of the inside of the Holmes’ residence projected from the plate glass wall. Eren flew to Shadow’s side and took her hand. Get off me, she thought, however, the first image, that of Arthur and Guinevere dead on the couch, their mouths crusted, caused Shadow to grasp Eren’s hand tight.
“Do you need a minute?” Eren asked.
“No! Next picture,” Shadow said, breaking her grip.
Shadow sat in her father’s recliner with fingers mashed, breathing in his scent, her grey eyes burrowed into the pictures, I’ll show those schoolyard brats what a Holmes can do, she thought. “Next one. Next. Next. Next. Stop! Can you Zoom in on the newspaper in Father’s suit pocket?”
“Affirmative,” 007 responded.
“There. Zoom in on the crossword. Even with his dying breath, Father would never leave one word missing no less, two. Seventeen down, group of crows.”
“That’s easy … zzzzzzz,” Tuesday emitted, as the drugs along with whatever adrenaline had been fueling her for days, finally took their leave of her.
“Murder!” Dolly said.
Obviously, you were murdered. What else are you trying to tell us, Father? Shadow pondered. “12 across, advertising houses. Of course, listings!” Shadow exclaimed, thinking, good job, Father. Of course, you could have just left a note.
“Just like Arthur. He’d be so proud. Honk!” Dolly expressed, blowing her nose. “Why Shadow Holmes! What are you doing here?”
“Just leaving. Thank you, Dolly,” Shadow said, hugging her.
“I’m coming with you,” Eren said.
Coming with me. If only. God, he looks good. Stop it, Shadow. He’s distracting you. Be firm. Give him something to do. You know Eren, he must feel useful, Shadow thought, responding, “I need you here. Please, Eren.”
“I see.”
“How do you feel about babysitting?” Shadow queried.
“Which one?” Eren joked, looking about, his gaze stopping at me.
Of all the nerve! Did this touchy-feely bloke think Shadow deemed me in need of minding? And her amorous thoughts stirred my protective instincts. Nothing against true love, but Eren had hurt her before. The fiend! I fixed my gaze upon him, growled, and circled, coming to rest at Shadow’s calf. My message seemed to register on his feelometer.
“Take care of her, Watson,” Eren said.
“And watch out for her,” Shadow replied, looking at her cousin crumpled on the floor, who with copious hair framing her entire form, very much resembled a Puli of my acquaintance.
“Don’t worry,” Eren said.
“It’s not her I’m worried about,” Shadow retorted, squeezing Eren’s arm.
What a lovely young couple. Wonder if they’d fancy a threesome. What’s that big yellow heap on the ground? Blimey! Did I shoot Big Bird? Where did I leave my car? Shadow Holmes! What’s she doing here? Oh, no! Moriarty. That sicko killed Guinevere and Arthur. For the Holmeses! Dolly thought, uttering, “You take care of yourself, Shadow Holmes. Moriarty is pure evil. And don’t worry about us. I’ve still got a few schemes up my sarong.”
“Come, Watson. The game really is afoot,” Shadow said, patting my head.
