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The Las Vegas Mayoral race is heating up, and the incumbent doesn’t have a prayer. Wealthy real estate speculator Nick Campenelli, who wants to legalize prostitution in Clark County, and former pastor Louis St. Louis, running on a 'clean-up-Vegas-by-getting-rid-of-the-whores' platform, are the front runners.
They’re also front runners on the suspect list for a string of murders. Kennedy O’Brien, four-year detective with cop blood running in her veins, and her partner Wilder “Wild Thing” James, a veteran, are determined to find the man who’s murdering prostitutes who work the wrong side of the street, and they don’t care how important or politically active he is.
The killer is a man with a mission. He stalks the women before he kills them, leaving a “BEFORE” photo on their bodies, and sending an “AFTER” shot to the local news hound. Ed Hershey, an aging newscaster with just the right amount of grey in his hair, is determined to turn this story into a network gig, and his interference, along with the LVTVS legal team, are making Kennedy and Wilder look bad. Campenelli’s good looks and charm, and St. Louis’ vitriolic hatred of prostitutes are muddying the waters too, and now the killer seems to have taken a liking to Kennedy.
So the big question remains. Can she get him before he gets her?
Leaving the downtown area, Wilder and Kennedy drove past the now defunct Pioneer Club with the ever smiling, famous Vegas Vic sign sitting high on its perch. At one time, the forty-foot-tall neon cowboy had greeted visitors with a waving arm and a moving cigarette that blew smoke rings.
“Kenny, check out Vegas Vic. He’s winking at you.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Wilder? It’s a damn sign.”
“I’m just screwing around. You really need to lighten up some.”
Kennedy refused to respond.
“When I talked to Sparky and Lenny, they said you were still at Metro when they came in this morning.”
“And your point is?”
“You should have gone home and gotten some rest. Like a normal person.”
“I did go home. I slept and I showered. I am a normal person.” One that has a few issues, but hey, who doesn’t?
“Did you update your home murder board and spend hours studying it?”
She cringed. Her partner knew her too well. “I may have looked it over once or twice. But, I didn’t spend hours on it, not that it’s any of your business.”
“You need to have a life outside the job. Hell, even Vegas Vic has a girlfriend and he’s a damn neon sign. When’s the last time you even had a date?”
She looked out the window at the neon cowboy, then at the neon cowgirl sign on top of the Glitter Gulch topless club, and back at Wilder.
“Vegas Vicky? Give me a break, here.”
“Oh yeah, Vegas Vicky. What a neon babe.” His voice deepened, almost to a whisper. Then Wilder had the balls to wink at her. “I dig her cowgirl boots.”
“You’re sick, Wilder.”
He glanced sideways at her.
“Keep your eyes on the road.” She hadn’t meant to snap.
“What are you so sour about, Kenny?” He laughed. “You just realizing a freaking neon babe has a boyfriend and you don’t?”
She couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at her mouth and had to look away before he saw. “Wilder, this conversation is so over.”
“Look on the bright side.” She faced him again, just in time to see his wicked
“There’s a bright side?”
“Oh, yeah.” He winked at her. “At least you don’t have to worry about some other neon babe shining your guy’s bulbs.”
“Like I said, Wilder, you’re one sick puppy.”
Teri Riggs was destined to be a writer. As a small girl she didn’t read bedtime stories, she made up her own. Who needed Little Red Riding Hood or The Three Little Pigs when there were so many great tales bouncing around in her head? When she grew up and became a mother to three little girls, she continued the tradition of making up bedtime stories. On the occasions she chose to tell conventional fairytales, Teri usually gave them a bit of tweaking here and there or added a new ending. Her girls loved it.
After her daughters had the nerve to actually grow up and leave home, Teri discovered she had a passion for writing and jumped right in. It came as no surprise she chose to write mysteries and happily-ever-after’s since that’s the genres she loves to read.
Teri lives in Marietta, Georgia with her husband, one of her daughters and two dogs that seem to think they rule the world. And some days Teri thinks maybe they do.
Teri still frequently tells herself stories as she falls asleep. The only difference now is she wakes up the next morning and turns her bedtime stories into books.
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