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Murder In The Rouge Mort - ebook View larger

Murder In The Rouge Mort - ebook

The Housetrap Chronicles, Book 5

Would you trust a notorious curvaceous assassin who knocks at your second story office window and says she wants to hire you? Neither does Randy.

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    There are some people Randy would really rather forget. Faster Frederica is one of them. She has a nasty reputation and a bad habit of playing with very sharp knives. So what is he to do when she appears in his office and insists on hiring him to find her missing brother, Fast Freddy?

    Only it turns out Faster also needs a bodyguard. Apparently there are some dead bodies lying around, the Committee of Public Safety is looking for her, to chat, as well as an assortment of underworld characters.

    Randy finds himself caught in the middle of a gang war, and an investigation that leads him into the depths of a dangerous building in search of answers. The usual mayhem ensues.


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    Murder In The Rouge Mort - ebook

    Murder In The Rouge Mort - ebook

    Would you trust a notorious curvaceous assassin who knocks at your second story office window and says she wants to hire you? Neither does Randy.



    There came a tap-tapping on the windowpane behind me.

    I didn’t turn around right away. There are a couple of problems with the scene. One, we’re located on the second floor of an elderly office building, and two, there’s no balcony or fire escape out there. I think the landlord’s philosophy is, “Let the place burn and the tenants beware.”

    There’s also the consideration that night has already fallen and some nasty creatures may be about who can climb brick walls unaided. I patted my left armpit just to make certain Bessie 2 was just a flick of my shoulder away, opened my desk drawer and slipped the glass knuckles over the fingers of my left hand. The tap-tapping came again. I slowly swiveled my chair around.

    Rain fell hard and drops ran down the grimy glass, navigating strange little vertical patterns. Mist coated the inside of the window. The landlord is also a heat-denier with his staunch belief in maintaining living conditions suitable only for Siberian elves. I watched the shadow on the other side of the window. I’m not all that psychic, but there are times when I can receive vibrations from close range. This visitor radiated extreme annoyance. Sighing, I got up, unlatched the window, heaved it open and quickly stepped back.

    “What in the name of Loki’s murderous maiden aunt have you been doing in here all this time? I thought I’d dissolve before you moved off your butt. Were you sleeping or just drunk?”

    Slightly shorter than me, my visitor was slender with a thin angular face, enormous, almost delicate black eyes, and shoulder length jet-black hair. Garbed neck to toe in fitted black leather, she stepped through the opening, glared stilettos at me and shook herself like an almost-drowned cat.

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