Synopsis

Motel proprietor Mess Hopkins is more interested in helping others than turning a profit, so he opens the doors of the Fairfax Manor Inn to those seeking refuge from a bad situation. But when his cousin Finn shows up in trouble, his world is rocked, because Mess had thought Finn was dead, having run away six years earlier.

Unfortunately, Finn was in the wrong place at the wrong time and saw the wrong thing—an incident with deadly consequences.

It’s up to Mess, his girlfriend/newspaper reporter Lia Katsaros, and buddy Vell Jackson to solve the crime before some bad men achieve their goal—killing the only eyewitness.

Mess’s frightened cousin Finn.

Amazon

Excerpt

They said you could pick your friends, but you couldn’t pick your family. I didn’t know who they were, but—sadly—they had a point. A damn good point. I got along with my parents okay—as long as they were traveling the world and basically incommunicado.

My Uncle Phil, however, was another story. He was a constant pain in my side. My backside. I stared at his name on my phone’s screen, finger hovering over Decline. I wasn’t in the mood to hear his monthly lecture, but if I didn’t answer, he’d just hound me until I did.

I sighed, hit Answer, and flopped on my bed in Room 13 of the Fairfax Manor Inn. I ran the motel, and one of the perks—if you could call it that—was a room to live in. Home sweet home.

“Hello, Uncle Phil. How are you?”

“Fine, Benjamin, fine. I’d like to discuss a few things with you.”

Phil was the only person who didn’t call me by my nickname, Mess. It irked me, not because I didn’t like the name, but because he was deliberately trying to antagonize me. Of course, I tried to get his goat whenever I could, too. Ah, families.

I supposed I loved him—after all, my parents instilled in me a fierce devotion to family at all costs. No matter what, family always came first. Hell, I’d take a bullet for my sister Izzy or her two daughters. But that didn’t mean I had to like every member of my family.

“Benjamin? You still there?”

“Yes. I’m listening.”

“The motel has lost money nine months in a row. Even you must realize that’s not a sustainable business model.” As usual, the subject of today’s lecture was my poor business acumen.

We usually had these discussions in the wood-paneled den of his mini-mansion in McLean. He nursed a scotch no matter what time of day, while I drank water. Not because I liked water so much, but because I liked being a contrarian, especially when it came to my uncle.

“Look, I can’t be responsible for the entire economy, right?” I said. “When things are tight, people stop traveling. And when they don’t travel, they don’t need to stay in motels.”

“I don’t think the economy is the problem here, Benjamin.”

“So what is the problem?” I braced for the inevitable.

“You could stop giving rooms away, for a start.”

Same admonition, every month. I gave him my stock answer. “I’m helping people, Uncle Phil. People who need help. People without a home or who are escaping a bad situation. People who could just use a warm—or cool—place to lay their head and regroup. Don’t you have any compassion?”

About the Author

Alan Orloff has published eleven novels and more than fifty short stories. His work has won an Anthony, an Agatha, a Derringer, and two ITW Thriller Awards. He’s also been a finalist for the Shamus Award and has had a story selected for THE BEST AMERICAN MYSTERY STORIES anthology. His novel, LATE CHECKOUT, will be released in October from Level Best Books. He’s past president of the Florida Chapter of Mystery Writers of America. He loves cake and arugula, but not together. Never together.

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