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Isabel Long Mystery Series, Uncategorized

Staying in Character

Great actors are famous for it. We the viewers forget the actor and only see the person they are playing on stage or screen. Some even take it a step further and stay in that role off camera.

But writers like myself have more than one character to consider. We get into their skin, so what they say and do are authentic to the stories we write.

My Isabel Long Mystery Series is written as a first-person present-tense narrative. Isabel is a smart, mature woman who is a bit of a wise ass. As a former journalist, she developed the ability to see through people and any bull they try to dish her. Just like reporting a new story, she’s methodical about her cases. I will admit there is a lot of me in Isabel although I am not a widow and I never worked as a private investigator. I don’t like that much danger.

It’s rather easy for me to figure out what Isabel will do in any given scene or situation whether it’s solving a mystery, pouring beer at the Rooster, being with its owner Jack or dealing with her family, including her mother, Maria, her partner in solving crime. 

In Following the Lead, she’s given a tough case. Her old boss, Lin was just a boy when his baby sister was stolen from the front yard and never found. That was nearly 50 years ago. So how should Isabel approach such a case? I channel Isabel and we figure it out together.

But, of course, Isabel isn’t the only character in this series. Some are one and done in a book. Many others have stuck around. As each one appears on a page, I channel that character so know how they should react to any situation I throw at them. 

Take Annette Waters aka the Tough Cookie. She wouldn’t be shy about anything. If someone dared to give her a hard time, she’d dish it back and twice as hard. But then again she runs a garage and junkyard. There’s her cousin, Marsha aka the Floozie who co-owns the Pit Stop convenience store. She’s another one who doesn’t take crap from anyone. Both are locals but they’ve grown fond of Isabel and her mother even though they are newcomers. 

It doesn’t matter the character’s gender. I know what will come out of Jack Smith’s mouth before he says it. Jack’s cousin Fred Lewis aka el Creepo typically says the wrong thing. He’s a bit of an idiot as demonstrated by what he does in Following the Lead. 

I believe the best training I received — like Isabel — was as a journalist. I had to listen carefully to what people said and observe how they behaved. It was a great experience that I believe has paid off with authentic characters. I hope my readers feel the same way.

LINK: Nov. 3, release date is getting oh so close. Here’s the link for Following the Lead: https://mybook.to/followingthelead

ABOUT THE PHOTO ABOVE: Saw this along State Street in Shelburne Falls near Floodwater Brewing. Isabel Long would find it amusing.

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Following the Lead

My Bad Beaumont Brothers

Of course, I am writing about Gary and Larry Beaumont, two characters in the Isabel Long Mystery Series. I’ve kept them through the most of the series because despite their feral tendencies, I’ve grown fond of them. So has Isabel Long. They are back in the next, Following the Lead, which has a Nov. 3 release.

Gary is the alpha brother. Larry, not the sharpest tool in the shed, does whatever he says. They tend to wear shirts advertising alcohol and both have mullets. They live in a dump of a house with a stash of junked metal in the front yard.

The Beaumonts make their living selling drugs and because of it, they were banned for life from the Rooster Bar and Grille, where Isabel tends bar on Friday nights. Jack, the owner, wouldn’t have them back because they were dealing in the parking lot. I can’t blame him.

The Beaumont brothers joined the series in Redneck’s Revenge, book no. 2, as unlikeable suspects who terrorize Isabel in the case involving the death of a junkyard owner. Hmm, perhaps drugs discovered in one of the vehicles had something to do with it. 

In the next, Checking the Traps, Gary hires Isabel to investigate the death of his half-brother Cary, who supposedly jumped off a bridge known for suicides. Isabel and her mother, her partner in crime, get to know the brothers up close and personal.

The brothers were not raised in the best of family situations. Isabel is also privy to a secret about Gary: in high school, he fathered Annette Waters’ son Abe. Annette aka the Tough Cookie doesn’t ever want him to know. (By the way in Working the Beat, no. 5, Gary and Annette compete against each other in a demolition derby.)

There are a few incidents when Gary and Larry actually come to Isabel’s rescue. That’s when she finally convinces Jack to let them come back to the Rooster on probation. He doesn’t like it but he loves Isabel too much to deny her.

So what are the Beaumont Brothers up to in Following the Lead? Well, they happen to live near a person of interest in this case — a famous musician who likes his privacy so much Isabel has a hard time meeting him. This case involves the abduction of a baby nearly fifty years ago. And much later in the book, one of them comes once again to her rescue.

Here’s a scene midway in the book when Isabel and her mother visit Gary and Larry.

A dog barks and paws at the front window of Gary and Larry Beaumont’s house as Ma and I make our way through the junked vehicles and plain old junk to the front door. I swear there is more stuff here than the last time we came earlier this year. That’s when Gary hired me for a case involving his late brother, Cary. On her previous visit here, my mother joked about finding the kitchen sink among this mess. No sinks but I do see an old kitchen stove and washer.

“Those boys really should take care of this mess,” my mother says with a click of her tongue. “People driving by this place would think it’s abandoned.”

“Perhaps that’s their motivation all along.”

Larry, the beta brother, comes onto the front porch, carrying his little pooch Ricky that was yapping in the window. He walks down the steps to give my mother first dibs to pet the dog, which makes happy little yips. Ricky is one of those terriers whose role here is to make Larry happy and to bark like crazy when anybody shows up. Nobody will be sneaking up at Chez Beaumont.

“Ricky, did you say? He looks like a nice little lap dog,” Ma tells a grinning Larry, who usually isn’t the center of attention. 

“He’s mine. Gary got him for me.”

Gary, definitely the alpha brother, comes through the open door. He wears a Jim Beam tee-shirt, which goes nicely with Larry’s Budweiser shirt, and I have indeed filled that order many times on a Friday night at the Rooster. Both brothers have freshly groomed mullets. They even have shaved. 

“Come on in, ladies,” Gary says. “Would you like some coffee? I made a fresh pot.”

Fresh pot? The last time Ma and I were here we were offered instant coffee, which I can’t tolerate even for a case. The boys are moving up, I’d say. And it appears, they did some cleaning in our honor or perhaps they’ve reformed. Dishes are piled in the sink, but the kitchen is nearly as clean as the one I have home. The rest of the house? I’ve never gone further than the kitchen. I didn’t even want to attempt using the bathroom no matter how badly I needed to go, so I have no clue about the conditions in there. Am I brave enough to use the bathroom this time? We’ll see.

“We’ll take a cup. Right, Ma? Milk if you have it for me. Ma likes it regular, milk and a little sugar.”

Larry chuckles.

“Course, I know what regular means. I’ll let you fix it the way you like.”

Ma nods as she sits. Our aim on these info gathering visits is to make people feel comfortable so they start blabbing without realizing it although by now, the brothers have become somewhat old chums and they know my methods. I smile as I watch Gary pour us coffee and boss his brother around to bring the milk and sugar to the table. Ricky sits in the corner away from their feet.

“You said over the phone you wanted to ask us about that guy Robert who lives near us. What’s that all about?”

I take a sip of coffee, which isn’t half bad, and compliment the boys before I clue them in about the Baby Elizabeth case and how his neighbor might have some involvement. The brothers sit forward as they pay close attention to what I say. 

“Robert appears to be a rather secretive fellow,” I say at the end. “Lucky for us, he turns out to live near you two.”

LINK TO THE BOOK: Following the Lead’s release is only days away on Nov. 3. Here is the link to get yours on Amazon: https://mybook.to/followingthelead Paperback will follow soon.

ABOUT THE IMAGE ABOVE: A fall view of my village of Shelburne Falls in Western Mass.

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Following the Lead, Isabel Long Mystery Series

Those Old Farts Again

Many readers tell me that the Old Farts are among their favorite characters in my Isabel Long Mystery Series. Frankly, I love all of my characters even the ones with no redeeming qualities. Certainly that includes Jim Hawthorne aka Thorny the ex-police chief from Killing the Story who continues to haunt Isabel in book no. 6 Following the Lead. But the Old Farts have so much going for them.

So who are the Old Farts? They are a group of retired men who meet in the backroom of the Conwell General Store to gossip over cups of crappy coffee. I suppose lots of stores and restaurants have groups of men and women who do the same. Perhaps the coffee is even good.

Isabel has given them all secret nicknames — they don’t know she calls them the Old Farts — keyed to their salient characteristic. There’s the Fattest Old Fart (the group’s loud mouth ring leader), Silent Old Fart, Old Fart with Glasses, Bald Old Fart, Skinniest Old Fart and the Serious Old Fart. Sometimes there’s a Visiting Old Fart. And, no, readers who know me, they are not based on anyone real.

Isabel will visit the Old Farts when she has a case to solve because these guys have the intel on what’s happened in the hilltowns of Western Mass. Their reach is quite extensive although Isabel knows to back up their sometimes so-called facts with her own research. The Old Farts welcome her visits — and there is a humorous scene in Following the Lead when they seek her out because she has been too busy to visit them. And for this case one of them is actually involved. 

Following the Lead, no. 6 in my Isabel Long Mystery Series, is only a couple weeks away from its Nov. 3 release. When I began writing this one I realized I wanted to try a different kind of mystery. This one required Isabel to go way back, say nearly fifty years ago, to find out what happened when a baby was snatched from a family’s front yard. Sounds a bit impossible. But our gutsy P.I. was up for the challenge.

Lin Pierce, Isabel’s boss briefly, was an 11-year-old boy, who was cleverly lured away. The loss hit his parents and him hard. But Lin believes Isabel has the wherewithal and smarts to find out what happened to Elizabeth and bring some closure to his family — or better yet, actually locate her.

Of course, Isabel starts with the family. His mother, Jessica was giving a piano lesson when the baby was stolen. His father, Ben, was at work. Ah-ha, Ben turns out to be one of the Old Farts, actually the Bald Old Fart.

Here’s a scene from Following the Lead involving the Old Farts:

Jack’s still sleeping when I duck out for my visit with the Old Farts in the backroom of the general store. This is definitely going to be tricky considering the seriousness of my case and who is involved. From the vehicles parked near the store, I assume I will have one hundred percent attendance, and as I make my way through the stockroom, I hear a chorus of laughter. Naturally, the Fattest Old Fart, the group’s lookout, announces my arrival.

“Where in the heck have you been, Isabel? We’ve been waiting to hear all about your last case.” He pats the spot beside him on the school bus seat. “Sit yourself right down, kiddo. We had to read about it in the Daily Fart.”

Laughing, I do as I’m told. I forgot that’s what this group of old men called my old newspaper just to tease me when I still worked for it. Little do they know that it inspired their secret nicknames.

The Serious Old Fart is already up getting my coffee. As expected, he jokes, “How about a cappuccino, Isabel,” which is a far cry from the crappy coffee he will serve me. But I graciously accept the cup before I proceed with a detailed narrative of my last case. Of course, they’ve read about it in the Daily Star. I imagine one of them brought in a copy and read the article aloud to the others. What they want to hear is what wasn’t in the paper, and I gladly oblige their comments and questions, except for the really personal details. While we talk, I take in the Bald Old Fart, trying my darndest not to be obvious he’s the primary reason I am here. And then I get hit with the question I’ve been expecting. It comes from the Silent Old Fart, who isn’t living up to his name this morning. 

“So, Isabel, when are you starting your next case?” he asks.

The Bald Old Fart and I exchange glances.

“I have one already,” I say quietly.

“Speak up, Isabel,” the Fattest Old Fart says. “We can’t hear you.”

I’m about to do just that when the Bald Old Fart clears his throat.

“It’s about my family,” he says. “My daughter …”

For once there are no wisecracks as the Bald Old Fart’s voice trails off. Just serious faces. The Old Farts already have the intel on his sad family history. Perhaps they’ve even discussed it as a group. I decide to let him off the hook.

“His son, Lin, has hired me. He wants closure after all these years.”

The Bald Old Fart nods and wipes away a tear.

“Closure. That’s a good way to put it,” he says. “I believe we should meet in private, Isabel. Yes? Fine.” He puts his attention on his buddies. “If you don’t mind, fellas, I’d like to find something else to talk about. If I, er, we have news to report on this case, I will let you know.”

This is an interesting turn of events. I’ve been here before when the Old Farts were gabbing about somebody’s missteps or misfortune, and even being a little free with the facts. Certainly, they have been a source of info for my cases, but like the good reporter I once was, I backed up whatever they told me with more research. As I mentioned earlier, two other Old Farts had a connection to my cases but none were as close as this one.

“All right, fellas, let’s move on,” the Fattest Old Fart says. “Before you got here, Isabel, we were talking about the town’s latest romance.”

“Oh, you mean Jack’s cousin, Fred?”

“Ha. Heard he was moving in with Amy Prentice.”

“How’d you hear … oh, was he just in here?”

“No, but thanks for confirming it.”

I check the wall clock. I bet Jack should be up by now.

“And with that I will be leaving you, fellas,” I say, drawing the typical chorus of protests, all part of the fun since they will be skedaddling it out of here soon to whatever they do back home.

I have my hand on my car’s door when I hear my name being called. You guessed it, the Bald Old Fart has followed me outside. 

“Thanks for your discretion back there,” he says. 

I throw my bag into the car and face him.

“Be honest. How do you feel about your son hiring me for this case?”

He shakes his head.

“I have mixed feelings. I’m the father, so I have a different take on what happened almost fifty years ago. He was just a boy.” He raises his hand. “But I agreed to speak with you. When would you like to do that? How about tomorrow morning, say ten?”

I check the store’s windows as we agree on a time. The rest of the Old Farts are staying put out of consideration for their friend, nice guys. I decide that I will go solo on this visit. I’m sensing there might be some sensitive adult issues involved that Lin isn’t aware happened.

“See you soon.”

LINKS: Following the Lead is available for pre-order here https://mybook.to/followingthelead

Order now and it will magically appear on your Kindle device. And thank you if you do. Paperbacks will be out in a couple of months.

PHOTO ABOVE: The view to the north on a recent ride, fitting since Following the Lead takes place in the fall.

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Following the Lead, Isabel Long Mystery Series

Killing off a Character

This is a true story although I can’t divulge names because that would give away too much of the plot for Following the Lead, no. 6 in my Isabel Long Mystery Series. But even so, it’s one worth telling.

I’ve mentioned in previous posts that our son, Zack owns Floodwater Brewing in our village of Shelburne Falls. And this where I met, oh, let’s call him Mr. X, one of the regulars.

Mr. X, who lives within walking distance of the brewery, loves to play cribbage. So does Hank. And they will often coax one or two people to join them playing a game I don’t understand that involves moving pegs around a board depending on what cards you and the others are holding. Floodwater has a cribbage board that resembles a small table so the players gather around on chairs.

Originally from Canada, Mr. X has lived in Western Massachusetts for many years. He’s got a great sense of humor that sometimes borders on him being a wise guy. He also reads all of my books, including the Isabel Long Mystery Series. 

Mr. X likes to dish out the wisecracks, especially when I was the editor-in-chief of the local daily newspaper. One day, I decided to dish it back. I told him, “I’m gonna put you in one of my books and kill you off,” or something close to that. He laughed.

Then, I forgot I said it.

But I guess others didn’t. I was reminded one day by Mr. X’s pal and fellow cribbage player that I threatened to bump him off in one of my books and how much he loved that idea. That was when I was about a third of the way through Following the Lead. I checked in with Mr. X, who said he would be delighted if that happened.

Oh, dear, how was I going to pull that off?

In the past, I have used the names of real people in my books as a prize for a virtual launch party on Facebook. But I specifically created characters I thought they would like. One was a ranger, another a mail deliver. I even used the names of people’s pets.

Yes, I use Mr. X’s real name in Following the Lead. Let’s say he is what I would call a person of interest in a case involving a baby’s abduction from her front yard 49 years earlier. Isabel feels he may have useful information, but she is having the darndest time trying to meet him in person. So for a good part of the book all she knows about this person of interest comes from other people. 

While writing the book, I would tease Mr. X about his character but reveal nothing when I would see him at the brewery. I didn’t even let him see a draft. But I know he’s looking forward to reading it when the Kindle version comes out Nov. 3 since he’s told me so.

And, that’s all I’m going to say right now abut Mr. X and his doppelganger.

BOOK LINK: Following the Lead will have a Nov. 3 release for Kindle and soon after for paperback. It is now in pre-order mode and I am grateful to those who do that. It helps with ratings. Thank you. Here is the link: https://mybook.to/followingthelead

ABOUT THE PHOTO ABOVE: That’s the wooden sign above Floodwater our son, Zack hand-carved and painted. There’s one more piece to go. Here’s the link to the website: http://floodwaterbrewing.com/index.html


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Isabel Long Mystery Series

Meet My Next Victim

My mysteries always have a victim. And it’s Isabel Long’s mission to find out what really happened to that person.

Isabel, a longtime journalist turned P.I., focuses on solving cold cases in the hilltowns of Western Massachusetts. In the first, Chasing the Case, a woman had disappeared 28 years earlier. In the second, Redneck’s Revenge,  Chet Waters, a junkyard owner, supposedly died in a fire because he IG Working the Beat copywas too drunk to get out.  In Checking the Traps, the victim is a highway worker by day and a poet by night who supposedly jumped from a bridge known for suicides. And in Killing the Story, it’s the editor and co-owner of a small town newspaper who got offed walking home one winter night.

Well, now I am onto no. 5 Working the Beat, which has a Jan. 27 release. Who is the victim this time? Lucas Page, a young man, who supposedly — there’s that word again — fell into a ravine while everybody was watching a demolition derby at a local country fair. His grandmother, Shirley Dawes doesn’t believe it was an accident but no one was convinced until Isabel Long agreed to take on the case.

Shirley took in Lucas was he was just a toddler and his drug-addicted, homeless mother — Shirley’s daughter — wisely gave him up. For Shirley, it was an opportunity to make amends. Her late husband was a no-good abuser, and unfortunately she couldn’t protect her daughter and son.

Here I will let Shirley tell you about him in this scene. By coincidence Isabel and her mother are at the Titus County Fair when she approaches them. This is an excerpt from Working the Beat.

This story’s coming back to me now. I was the editor of the Daily Star then. We reported on an unattended death at the fair in a story that made the front page, and then like Shirley said, it was ruled an accident because of a brain injury, although she protested that in a story we ran, too.

“Now, I remember you, Shirley. You came to see me in the newsroom. You said you were frustrated the police didn’t seem to be looking that hard into your grandson’s case and you wanted us to do that.”

I think back and hope I treated this woman nicely.

“Yeah, I did. You said newspapers don’t do that kind of work.”

“No, not the one I worked for.”

“But I heard about what you’ve been doin’ now as a private investigator. Your last case was a doozy. Read about it in the paper.” She crooks a thumb toward Annette and her son, still talking with his admirers. “Course, there was Chet Waters. Maybe you can do what the cops couldn’t or wouldn’t do.”

“You mean find out what happened that night with your grandson.”

“Yeah. I heard you get paid for doin’ this. I wanna hear how much. I ain’t got a lot. But this is important to me. I loved my grandson. I’m the one who brought him up after his mother gave him to me. He was hangin’ around with a rough crowd in those days. Tryin’ to fit in. Here. Let me show you his picture.”

Shirley reaches for the purse on the seat beside her. The purse is vintage style, off white with a smart clasp on the top, no zippers, something my mother would use. I am guessing Shirley holds onto things. She removes a photo from her wallet and hands it to me.

“I took it at Christmas, the last one we had,” she says.

Lucas Page’s face smiles at me. He’s young, blue-eyed, and with the kind of features that would label him a good-looking guy. His most distinctive is the red hair that’s short on the sides and long enough on the top so it has a bit of curl. But back to that smile. He was happy to pose for his grandmother.

“He was a handsome young man,” I tell Shirley.

She swipes away a tear.

“Yeah, he was.”

HOW TO GET YOURS

Here is the link to Working the Beat: mybook.to/workingthebeat

ABOUT THE PHOTO ABOVE

That’s the snow-covered Deerfield River flowing under the Bridge of Flowers in my village of Shelburne Falls after a recent storm.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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