Skydive Read online

  Praise for the Nicki Valentine Mystery Series

  SKY HIGH (#2)

  “This breezy second outing (after the Agatha Award–nominated Finding Sky) features an enchanting amateur sleuth with dear friends and family who have her back at all times. If only she can make this PI business work and keep her relationship with Dean on an even keel, her life will be perfect.”

  – Library Journal

  “A great, quick read. Suspense lovers who missed the first Nicki Valentine presentation will want to grab that one, as well, because this author has definitely brought forth a character that is a great one to follow.”

  – Suspense Magazine

  “O’Brien combines humor, wit, wisdom, and suspense in a captivating story involving a rookie PI struggling to balance the demands of crime solving and single motherhood. No cookie-cutter mystery here. Sky High is a captivating tale of murder, abuse, betrayal, and refreshing redemption. Five stars plus!”

  – Tracy Weber,

  Author of the Award-Winning Downward Dog Mystery Series

  “I love this series. Even though this is just the second book, I feel like I am hooked for the long haul. It is so well-written and the characters are so much fun that I just can’t get enough.”

  – Bookschellves

  “Breezy and fun with a charming heroine and a dashing hero.”

  – Victoria Kemp,

  Flower Mound Public Library

  FINDING SKY (#1)

  “O’Brien deftly combines motherhood and mayhem in this lively tale of a single mom tracking down a missing teen. Lots of fun!”

  – Laura Levine,

  Author of the Jaine Austen Mystery Series

  “O’Brien has written one of the most warm-hearted yet realistic cozies I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading.”

  – Mystery Scene Magazine

  “The heroine of O’Brien’s engaging cozy debut has her hands full as a widowed mother of two…When her best friend, Kenna, phones to tell her that Beth, the 18-year-old mother-to-be of the baby Kenna plans to adopt, has disappeared, Nicki seizes the chance to put what she’s learned in her PI training course to work…Nicki proves a resourceful sleuth as she gets on the trail of the missing teen. The conclusion will leave readers eager for the next installment.”

  – Publishers Weekly

  “Has a heart and soul and the minute I started reading it, I knew it was something special. Nicki Valentine, the sleuth at the center of the mystery of a missing pregnant teen, felt like an old friend to me and the lengths to which she will go to help a friend is just one example of her integrity and loyalty. I can’t wait to read more about Nicki and her journey as a single mom and modern-day Nancy Drew.”

  – Maggie Barbieri,

  Author of the Murder 101 Mystery Series

  “This debut mystery offers menace without violence, intrigue, and the realistic depiction of a single mother struggling to find an identity outside of motherhood. The hint of romance and element of humor further ensures that this novel will attract a following of cozy-reading fans for the upcoming sequel, Sky High.”

  – Kings River Life Magazine

  Books in the Nicki Valentine Mystery Series

  by Susan O’Brien

  FINDING SKY (#1)

  SKY HIGH (#2)

  SKYDIVE (#3)

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  Copyright

  SKYDIVE

  A Nicki Valentine Mystery

  Part of the Henery Press Mystery Collection

  First Edition | November 2016

  Henery Press

  www.henerypress.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including Internet usage, without written permission from Henery Press, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Copyright © 2016 by Susan O’Brien

  Cover Art by Stephanie Chontos

  This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Trade Paperback ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-117-0

  Digital epub ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-118-7

  Kindle ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-119-4

  Hardcover Paperback ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-120-0

  Printed in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To Sarah and Noelle

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Many thanks to the Hen House and my supportive family, friends, and readers. Skydive represents somewhat of a free fall/trust exercise for me (and Nicki!), and I’m deeply grateful for the help received from above and all around.

  One

  The letter from jail shouldn’t have worried me the way it did. First of all, it was sent to my Sky Investigations P.O. box, not the home I shared with my precious kids. Also, the sender was incarcerated—basically the definition of “not an immediate risk to society.” Third, I was dating someone who resembled a superhero, although I didn’t want him to rescue me from anything. Except maybe single parenting. And abstinence.

  Yet the King County Detention Center stamp on the plain white envelope made me nervous, and the sender’s name, Corey Burke, didn’t ring a bell. I held the letter lightly, as if touching it could expose me to whatever was inside. I’d helped to put away some violent offenders, and I didn’t particularly want to hear from them, although sometimes I wondered how (and where) they were.

  Surely the jail screens outgoing mail, I told myself. Just open it.

  I glanced around the post office lobby, which was busy at noon on a bright spring day. With the remaining mail under my arm, I slid my index finger under the envelope’s seal and released the flap, exposing a folded sheet of paper. Dark script showed through, its indentations suggesting a determined, feminine hand.

  Dear Ms. Valentine,

  I read about you in the news last year before I got locked up. I thought if I ever needed a private investigator, I’d pick you. Please hear me out and give me a chance.

  I take full responsibility for my mistakes, which I’m sure you can look up somewhere. But what you won’t see is what happened to my daughter, Kat. She’s why I desperately need your help.

  She’s eighteen, and she aged out of foster care about a month ago, which means she has nobody. It’s my fault she was in the system. Because of me, she’s being threatened by people I associated with during my worst times. It’s killing me that something might happen to her because of my past.

  Can you come and talk to me in person? I’ll do anything to help my baby girl. I know you understand. You’re on my visitor list, so please come when you can. Thank you.

  Sincerely,

  Corey Burke

  I folded the letter and returned it to its envelope, barely aware of customers bustling around me as I stood immobile, lost in thought. Business had been good for Sky Investigations, and I’d settled into a routine of doing background checks, greeting Jack and Sophie after school, hosting my boyfriend Dean for dinner, and spending private time with him after the kids’ bedtime…and sometimes after mine. Opening bills had become less stressful, and I had most of my priorities straight. Emphasis on most. I’d always wanted to help v
ictims, but I wasn’t doing much of it. Choosing predictability over risk was understandable, especially with young kids, but it wasn’t necessarily excusable.

  I needed to go home and research Corey Burke. Her letter sounded genuine, and I couldn’t discard it, literally or emotionally.

  Maybe it was time to step out of my comfort zone again, as long as I didn’t go too far.

  The house was empty and relatively neat when I arrived. After a year of dating Dean, I’d transformed from a housekeeping procrastinator to a housekeeping boss, meaning I’d hired a maid. Still, she only came every other week, and cleaning up after everyday messes didn’t come easily to me. I was determined though, so I slid my sneakers under a bench in the foyer, set my purse nearby, and took the mail straight to my office, sorting it on the way.

  All of it went into recycling except Corey’s letter, which I set next to my most important investigative tool, a powerful desktop with two monitors. It only took seconds to access Corey’s criminal history, although I wasn’t sure it was complete. One of my pet peeves was PIs who sold “complete” national background checks based on limited information—without fingerprints and government help. No collection of PI databases equaled sending prints and personal details through government channels, and only certain situations permitted that. A request like Corey’s wasn’t one of them.

  I could, however, verify that she was forty-five years old and doing time for heroin possession, petit larceny, and prostitution. That combination was more sad than surprising. It made unfortunate sense that one act related to another. Corey had been in jail for several months, and she had nine more to go. I couldn’t imagine being in her or Kat’s shoes.

  Home? I texted Kenna, my longtime best friend and next-door neighbor. She’d recently taken the required sixty-hour class to become a PI, which she’d crammed into one week, thanks to babysitting support from her friends and family. It wasn’t ideal, and she didn’t have the additional training I’d finished to manage a PI firm, but there was no one I trusted more. She wanted to pitch in with Sky Investigations (and get a break from parenting), provided the work was adventurous—and provided I reciprocate by joining her health club.

  Kenna was an outgoing, daredevil fitness instructor, and I was a recovering worrywart who preferred sweating in private or, better yet, not at all. She was sure we’d balance each other out, just the way we did in everyday life.

  My PI firm was named after her two-year-old, Sky, since my first investigation had helped with her adoption. It was also a tribute to my late father’s career as a pilot.

  Yep, Kenna replied. Sky’s down for her nap. What’s up?

  Not wanting to text details or wake Sky with a call, I asked Kenna to call my landline. Few things were worse than accidentally disrupting a sleeping child, not for the child’s sake, but for the parents’ sanity.

  “Hey,” I answered when the phone rang. “I’ve got a case that might interest you.”

  “Ooh. Do tell.”

  I read Corey’s letter aloud, omitting identifying information, and waited for Kenna’s response.

  “You know how I feel about jail,” she said.

  “You’ve always wanted to go?”

  “Exactly. It fascinates me. So if you take this case, I’m in. But I mean in. Like you have to take me to all the fun stuff. And remember, you’d have to start working out.”

  “Define that,” I said. “Carefully.”

  “As long as you’re still on the pole, you only have to take two classes a week.” By “on the pole,” she meant just that. Pole dancing. About a year earlier, she’d installed a pole in my basement and given me private lessons. Talk about stepping out of my comfort zone.

  “Any classes I pick?”

  “Sure, as long as they get your heart rate up as much as Dean does.”

  “Ha. That’s a tall order, but okay. So you’re in?”

  “I am. How much do you pay? And do you offer childcare?”

  She was joking, but I hadn’t thought much about those issues, and I doubted Corey could afford my regular fees. Nevertheless, if Kenna agreed to help, I’d pay her the going rate, which was more than she made as a fitness instructor.

  “Honestly, we need to talk to this woman and see what we think. I’ll throw in takeout from Andy’s favorite restaurant if he babysits.” Andy was Kenna’s husband, and he’d be disappointed in this development. In his eyes, she was already too much of a risk taker, and he didn’t love how much time she and I spent together, especially on the phone.

  “Visiting jail is reward enough for me, but dinner for Andy is smart, just to be safe.”

  I checked the jail visiting hours online and saw we could be there at seven. Kenna would have to get on Corey’s visitor list, but I could probably swing that. The bigger challenge—finding someone to watch Jack and Sophie at the last minute—reminded me of why I’d settled into predictable PI work. I could ask Dean for help, since he was coming over anyway, but it would break new ground in our relationship. Hopefully it wouldn’t break anything else.

  “How’s six thirty tonight?” I asked, almost hoping she was busy.

  “Great. Andy’s working from home.”

  “Okay, then if Dean can hang out with the kids, we’re going to jail.”

  She let out a whoop that threatened to wake Sky.

  “I’m warning you, Kenna. I only want to see jail as a visitor. So don’t do anything crazy while we’re there.”

  “Funny,” she said. “But trust me. Corey will have two calm PIs there to help. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  Her best behavior could be similar to my worst, but that’s partly why I loved her—and why I hoped we’d make a good team.

  Dean arrived early for dinner, thrilling eight-year-old Jack and six-year-old Sophie. His blond hair was windblown from driving a convertible, and his aquamarine eyes were highlighted by the black, fitted polo he wore to teach PI classes.

  “Dean!” the kids screamed, warming my heart. At first, they’d gotten to know him as my colleague, not my boyfriend. But as our relationship developed, I’d surprised myself by wanting to spend time as a group. I needed to see how Dean handled one of life’s greatest challenges: a defiant child. To his credit, he was a calming presence without being a pushover.

  “What did you whip up for dinner?” he asked after hugs were exchanged.

  “Lasagna, Italian bread, salad, and an unexpected plan,” I said.

  “Oh really? What’s that?” His eyes sparkled with anticipation.

  I passed him Corey’s letter and watched him take it in.

  “You should do this,” he said. “You’ve been planning to branch out. It might not pay much, if anything, but it could be great experience, and you’ve been wanting to do something charitable.”

  He was right. I wanted to donate time to a good cause, but nothing felt right yet.

  “Visiting hours are limited,” I said. “And we could go tonight.”

  “We?”

  “Sorry. I mean Kenna and I could go. She wants to help.”

  “Something’s finally exciting enough for her? Wow. Who’d watch the kids?”

  Normally, I called my mom, Kenna, or another friend, so Dean had no clue what was coming.

  “Well, I was thinking…” His eyes widened, hopefully not in fear. “There’s no one they’d rather see than you.”

  “Really? I was looking forward to hanging out with you, but this is good. It means a lot.”

  He hugged me tightly, and that said everything. Almost.

  “They’ve already taken their baths,” I said. “And I have a movie picked out in case you need it. Oh, and can you help Jack with his math homework? We haven’t gotten to it yet. And Sophie will want to read you her favorite book. Is that okay?”

  Other things came to mind, but I knew Dean could handle them. I’d just have
to make him a list.

  Welcome to my life, I thought, meaning it more than ever.

  Because the weather was beautiful, and because I wanted Dean to keep my minivan and booster seats in case of emergency, we took Kenna’s red Solara to jail with the top down. As usual, her wavy blond hair, fair complexion, and classic Taylor Swift looks got plenty of stares.

  “Don’t get used to this,” I said as we pulled into the lot. “Normally a convertible is the last thing you can drive on the job.”

  My nondescript silver van with tinted windows, on the other hand, was ideal. Few people expect a petite, worn-out mom in a wrinkled t-shirt, leggings, and a ponytail to watch their every move (unless they’re kids, of course—then they’re totally onto me).

  “At least I’ve got Sky’s car seat,” Kenna said. True. Car seats were a good cover.

  We secured the soft top, stowed our purses in the trunk, and kept our IDs handy.

  After making our way through metal detectors, a cursory body search, and a long line of visitors (all of which enthralled Kenna), we entered a visiting room with small cubicles that separated inmates and visitors with safety glass.

  A guard led us to a pale, thin, blond woman whose age I would have pegged at fifty if I hadn’t known better. She sat on one side of the glass barrier, and we took stools on the other. An intercom would allow us to hear each other.

  “Corey?” I said. “Hi. I’m Nicki, and this is my colleague, Kenna. Thank you so much for writing to me.”