The Gnominator.

Amy Tracey lives in a fairly small city in New Zealand, small enough to make her wonder how exactly it became a city in the first place.
She's a private investigator, who moonlights for various agencies while managing her time between her elderly Nana and flamboyant cousin, Donald.
Nana and the cronies of doom wind their way into a job of Amy's with potential to cause much trouble and grief all the while meddling in Donald's life.



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Rainbow Creek

The Gnominator - a new novel by Cat Connor

In the beginning:

The moon stumbled across the sky, ducking from cloud bank to cloud bank, sliding drunkenly behind a building storm front.

When she emerged from the edge of the bush the moon broke free. She stood bathed in brilliant white light, waiting for the inevitable booming voice to render her judgment.

For maybe half a minute she stood stock-still staring up at the moon, waiting.

Lightening flashed across her field of vision.

A warning?

Had she angered the Gods?

She waited.

The pool of light shrunk. Spits of rain flew at her.

In the shrinking pool, she shrugged her backpack off and removed her smeared jacket. With a smile, she turned it inside out. Finally, she knew why everything seemed to be reversible these days. How handy.

With her jacket now fleece side out, she zipped it up to her neck, and pulled the hood on. Rain splattered on her jeans and shoes. The last rays of moonlight illuminated running red streaks on her white sneakers.

How bad could it get?

She pressed the end button and dropped the phone back onto Obadiah’s lap. “Take care of that for me will you?”

“Sure, Amy. You want I should answer it if it rings again?” the Cheshire grin was still plastered across his face.

“No, once was enough thanks,” she replied, pulling back out onto the road. “How’s your head?” she changed the subject.

“Not too bad. The bleeding has stopped.” He looked over at her. “We could swing by your Nana’s if you like.”

“When pigs fly,” Amy replied.

“How bad could it be?”

Amy peered up at the sky and pointed. “Did you see that?”

“What?”

“Nothing… no flying pigs, no nothing.”

He laughed.

The both stared at one another when the phone rang again.

“That’s the same song,” Obadiah said reaching between his legs and picking up the phone.

“Don’t answer it!” Amy squealed, trying to grab the phone from his hand before he could flip it open.

He held it in his left hand, out of her reach. She either had to pull over and practically climb him or admit defeat.

Amy chose defeat. She’d get her own back when he wasn’t injured.

“Hello, is that you Nana?”

Her stomach flipped as Obadiah called her Nana. She could imagine her Nana’s horror struck face and terrifying reaction.

There was nothing else for it, she abandoned all hope and headed on up to her Nana’s, as Obadiah introduced himself over the phone.

She listened, as the knot in her stomach tightened, to Obadiah’s delightful banter. The temptation to open the door and puke was great. She impressed her self with her ability to control her vomit.

just when things couldn't get any worse...

Obadiah spoke, “I would like the outcome of this incident to reflect in Amy’s records. Her instincts are good, and she acted out of humanity. The only person she risked, was herself.”

“Duly noted,” Jared replied. “And for the car bomb? How would you like that to be explained?”

Amy cringed. “I had nothing to do with the car exploding.”

“Amy’s only part in that incident was to save my life. A commendation would be appropriate,” Obadiah said.

Jared almost smiled, his lips curled then returned to the thin line they’d grown accustomed too.

“And today’s development? The dead body in the car, and the unconscious civilian, and the old lady still waiting for Amy to return to finish the garden?”

“The old lady waiting?” Amy felt sick. She hadn’t thought about anything except getting the gnome out of harms way. She’s quite forgotten Mrs. Cosgrove and the mess in the street outside her house.

“She mentioned to police she was waiting for her friend Ruby’s granddaughter to weed her front garden.”

“Did she say I had already been there?”

“No, she did not.”

Confusion clouded Amy’s face. “Why not? And my Nana isn’t Ruby.”

“As luck would have it, your Mrs. Cosgrove is days off being railroaded into a retirement home by her loving son and daughter-in-law. They’ve been trying to tell her and everyone else that the poor old dear is not fit to live alone.”

Amy frowned. “That’s hardly fair, she’s a little lame and slow to move, but not senile, not the woman I saw anyway.”

“I sent an agent to chat with Mrs. Cosgrove, she is by no means senile, Amy.”

“Did they get there before the police interviewed her?” Amy smelled a rat.

“Yes, I believe so. The police were busy with the terrible scene on the street and didn’t notice one of our young men go in through the backdoor. What a wonderful place that is, with all those alley ways.”

“So you told her to say, Ruby?”

“I think the names may have been confused, the description might have caused a few problems too. Now that I see you, I can plainly see you’re not a blonde Scandinavian type at all,” Jared said with mock surprise and wide eyes.

 

copyright Cat Connor 2008