Synopsis

When single mom and recent widow Cameron Chandler takes a much-needed job at Penny-wise Investigations, a detective agency conveniently located in a suburban shopping mall, she grabs the chance to reinvent herself. Her first case is to locate a runaway girl, something her predecessor had been pursuing before he disappeared. Following in his footsteps, the trail leads to a survivalist camp on a remote island in northern Puget Sound. Armed with only a Swiss Army Knife and her quirky on-the-job training as a suburban sleuth, Cameron uncovers more than she bargained for. She soon finds herself in a fight for her own survival in this lighthearted mystery set in Seattle and the San Juan Islands to the north.

Excerpt

From Chapter 1 Employed at Last!

IT WAS THE ONLY STORE in the mall that didn’t invite shoppers to take a look inside. Sandwiched between Ye Olde Candle Shoppe and Sew What?, its mirrored storefront looked impenetrable. Images rebounded off the mirrors, challenging passers-by to guess what went on inside. I slowed down to guess.

It was then I saw the “Help Wanted” sign to the right of the pale oak door. Although I had never bothered to check out the place before, the sign drew me like a powerful magnet.

“Hey, watch it,” an angry voice said. An elderly woman in a hot pink sweat suit pushed past me, leaving no doubt that I had violated one of the mall’s unwritten traffic rules. You don’t cut across the wave of bodies, you go with the flow. I mumbled an apology and stepped out of the mainstream.

The name of the shop was painted in a cobalt blue arc that spanned three quarters of the mirror: “Penny-wise Investigations.” Within the arc in smaller, straight line print was: “Discount Detection.” Lower down and to the right was a tiny griffin emblazoned in gold next to “P.W. Griffin & Associates. Vigilance you can afford.”

A detective agency in a shopping mall? Suburban sleuthing for the middle-class consumer? No way, I said to myself. This isn’t for me.

I backed away, sidestepped around a strolling shopper, and found a seat on a glossy faux wood bench next to a long blue planter full of green plants apparently sustained by the fluorescent rays of overhead lighting. I reached out and fingered one of the plants. Artificial. I tapped the heavy looking planter. Plastic, and hollow. Everything fake and empty, like my life.

The bench faced the shopping mall detective agency. I found myself staring at the mirrored storefront wondering how many of the ordinary people rushing about intent on their shopping ever considered hiring a private investigator. That older woman in the black checked polyester slacks with the gray cardigan, for example. Would she go into the agency and ask them to check on her grandchildren to see which one deserved to inherit her house and all of her personal belongings? And what about that woman in the tight jeans and jaunty sweater who looked as though she had just stepped out of a beauty shop—suppose she wants to know whether her husband is cheating with his executive assistant? Or the pregnant woman riding herd on the little girl who was pulling at her tights to keep them up, might she be lured by a conveniently located discount detective agency if her husband ran off with their child?

I sat there, resting my feet, trying not to feel depressed. “Sale” signs and “Specials” leapt out at me like accusing fingers. If YOU had a job, they seemed to say, then you too could be part of the great American consumer phenomenon.

But I didn’t have a job. And in the last few months I’d heard nothing but reasons why I wasn’t a good fit for this job or that. “Sorry, but since you don’t have administrative skills…” “Sorry, but since you aren’t experienced creating Excel spreadsheets and graphs…” “Sorry, you’re overqualified.” “Sorry, you’re under-qualified.” “Sorry.” My PhD in liberal arts wasn’t a springboard to any of the jobs that were out there. I had reached a professional dead-end that was threatening to make a cul-de-sac out of my entire life.

My eyes went back to the “Help Wanted” sign just an Olympics broad jump leap away. I didn’t know anything about being a private detective. But maybe they wanted a receptionist. The sign didn’t say. I looked away, then remembered the article that had appeared on my refrigerator that morning, held in place by a magnet shaped like a goose wearing a bonnet. The headline read: “Lower standard of living for single mothers.”

Review

Take one widowed mother and a discount detective service located in a mall and you have this series that is bound to charm the reader.

There was so much to like about this series so I will start with some of my favorite characters. Cameron is a widow with a PhD yet no job to go with it trying to manage two children and a busybody mother who thinks that Cameron just needs to find a new husband. All Cameron knows is that she needs to find a job. You have P.W., the head of the discount detective business that is a bit of a mystery herself. Many of the people working for her have tried to unearth who she really is but to no avail. Yuri is Cameron’s main teacher at the PI agency, showing her the ropes and assisting with her first case. Yuri is a crazy driver and I was very glad that I wasn’t physically in a car with him. Will is like Q in the Bond movies – all sorts of gadgets that might help out on any case. He can be something of a trickster.

I have to credit Cameron for taking on a career field that requires observation and deductive reasoning. Sure I’ve read mysteries for years but that doesn’t mean I should be a PI. I chucked on her first day on the job and her choice to wear heels. Everyone forewarns her that P.W. isn’t going to like the shoe choice. Thankfully it is only her first day so she won’t have to chase after suspects quite yet.

Cameron’s first case is a missing person’s case but it evolves into so much more including some radical Survivalists on one of the San Juan Islands in Washington. This is where the action really heats up and some interesting twists and turns occur. I was spellbound throughout the book and stayed up a little too late the first night because I had to know what happened next.

If you like witty, quirky, and a little crazy then this might be a mystery you will want to read.

We give this 5 paws up.

About the Author

In a world filled with uncertainty and too little chocolate, Charlotte Stuart, PhD, has taught college courses in communication, gone commercial fishing in Alaska, and survived being the VP of HR and Training for a large credit union. Her current passion is for writing lighthearted mysteries with a pinch of adventure and a dollop of humor. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys watching herons, eagles, seals and other sea life from her Vashon Island home office.

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