by Felicity Young
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
GENRE: Contemporary Thriller
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Three years after a
gang brutally murdered his wife and son, Sergeant Cam Fraser has returned with
his daughter Ruby to the country town where he was raised - a town too small
for trouble. But then a body is found on the school grounds, badly burned and
unrecognisable. Who in Glenroyd could possibly be a murderer? And why?
This violent crime
plunges Cam straight into a baffling and deadly investigation, where nothing is
as it seems. From shady cop Vince to the secretive Smithsons who run the school
to the local bikie gang who may still want him dead, Cam has his hands full
with suspects. Not to mention Jo, his daughter's teacher, whom he can't keep
his mind off of ...
But the danger is
coming closer to home, and Cam is running out of time to solve the case. Will
he be able to protect Ruby and stop the killer? Or will everything go up in
flames?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
The general store might have revamped into a supermarket,
but little else had changed in Glenroyd over the last twenty-five years. Cam
walked down Main Street, past the same tin-roofed fibro cottages he remembered
from his youth, the same small shops decorated with the same archaic
advertising logos, faded by the sun and meaningless to anyone under forty.
The stock feeder’s and the farm machinery were the largest
retail establishments, but the town also boasted a small newsagency, a post
office, a bank, two pubs and two petrol stations. There were enough amenities
in Glenroyd to provide basic goods and services, but anyone with a need for
anything out of the ordinary would be forced to make the hour and a half trip
to Toorrup, the closest town of any size.
The rusting wrought-iron lacework of the pubs and the
sloughing paint on the historic post office were visual evidence of the recent
agricultural slump. Fifteen-year-old cars dotted the streets or filled up with
fuel from the domed shaped bowsers of flat-fronted garages. On market day
wobbly-armed women in sleeveless cotton frocks and men in gut-stretched work
shirts stood in segregated groups, as they always had, discussing wool prices
and CWA, horse racing and lamington drives.
Cam peered through the grimy window of one of the town’s two
boutiques where post-war dummies with large busts and wasp waists modelled last
summer’s sun-bleached clothes. No wonder Ruby hated it here.
But given time, she’d learn to love it. The town might be
small, grotty and old, but this was home: this was where they were meant to be.
The sun was heavy on his head as he scooted between the
shady shop awnings, but a wave of cool air rolled over him when he reached the
open door of the Glenroyd Arms. He stopped for a moment to savour the sour tang
of beer and listen to the contented murmuring from within. For those citizens
of Glenroyd with the money and the time, this was the only place to be on a
stifling day such as this. Even the adjacent TAB had lost all but its hardcore
gamblers to the cool allure of the pub.
He paused again at the window of the stock feeder’s to
peruse the For Sale section. The sun-faded pictures of quaint weatherboard
houses surrounded by bucolic farmland were photographed in spring before the
summer sun and wind had dried the countryside to a dustbowl. He skipped past
these, spending longer on the lists of second-hand tractors, posthole drillers
and harvesters, his breath whistling through his teeth when he noticed the
prices.
When he came to the equestrian section, he rubbed his chin,
reading through the descriptions of over a dozen horses and ponies. The ponies
were too small, the horses too young and flighty for an inexperienced rider. At
five foot six, Ruby would have to have something between fifteen-two and
sixteen-two hands, an old bombproof schoolmaster who had done it all. The right
horse would come along, if they bided their time.
A gentle tapping on the window drew his attention from the
notices to the smiling face of an elderly woman on the other side of the glass.
‘Mrs Rooney?’ he mouthed. Her face lit up. Her hair, like a
white powder puff, bobbed from side to side as she nodded her head.
‘Cameron Fraser, crikey Moses – aren’t you a sight for sore
eyes!’ she said as he entered the store. It took a moment for his eyes to
adjust from the baked whiteness of the street. The store was cool and dark and
smelt of grain and dried dog food.
‘They said you’d come back. I nearly dropped in at the
station the other day, but held back knowing how busy you’ve been since you
arrived.’
He laughed. ‘You know you’re always welcome, Mrs Rooney.’
She frowned, tapping at her cheek. ‘Well, come on then, what
are you waiting for? Don’t I deserve a kiss?’
He gave her an extended kiss on the cheek and moaned with
mock passion.
She laughed. ‘OK, you don’t have to eat me alive. Stand back
so I can have a look at you.’
He stepped back and braced himself for her reaction. When
she tilted her head to one side, he focused on the dust motes dancing in a beam
of filtered light.
She clasped his hand. Hers were fibrous and knotted like
pieces of root ginger. ‘I’m so sorry, Cam, sorry about everything.’
‘The worst is over.’
She nodded. ‘There’s always the future to look forward to.’
‘And what about you? You still have the teashop?’ he asked,
keen to change the subject.
‘Crikey, no. I gave that up not long after you left, went to
work at St Luke’s Retirement Home. I’m retired from that too now.’ She chuckled.
‘I suppose you could call me a lady of leisure.’
Cam doubted that. She laughed again and smoothed the
imagined wrinkles in her faded cotton frock.
‘I still dream about your vanilla slices.’
‘You and half the boys from St Bart’s, I’m sure. I’m hoping them
that used to steal ’em are still getting nightmares.’
‘I’ll bet they are. You had the fastest wooden spoon in the
west. How are Greg and Mark?’
‘They run this place now. Doing a grand job at it. I’m just
minding the store for the moment till Greg gets back from lunch,’ she said.
‘Mark’s at the hospital in Toorrup with his Kate, having their first.’
‘So you’re about to be a grandmother?’
‘Heavens, no – Greg has four already.’
‘Wow, and you not a day over forty-five. I’d never have
guessed.’
‘Tease,’ she said, pushing him with her palm. ‘Speaking of
kids, was that your Ruby I saw in the park the other day? I had to do a double
take; for a moment I thought I was looking at a fair-headed Elizabeth. How
strange that you and Elizabeth would produce a girl with such blonde hair, you
two so dark and all.’
Cam looked around the store for eavesdroppers and put his
fingers to his lips. ‘Actually, Mrs R, I think it’s from a bottle.’
She shook her head. ‘Kids today, what they do to themselves,
I don’t know. Still, there’s a lot worse than a bit of hair dye. That boy she
was with, well, I wouldn’t want to meet him at night down a dark alley.’
Cam felt as if he’d just received a body blow. He had to
jerk in a breath to get the words out. ‘Boy? What boy?’
‘Goodness, Cam, have I said something I shouldn’t?’
He forced out a smile. ‘She never told me, that’s all. Do
you know who he is?’
‘What’s-his-name’s apprentice, you know, runs the mechanic
shop.’
‘Cliff Donovan?’
‘That’s him, and the boy’s Angelo, Angelo Arnoldi. He helps
out with the bushfire brigade too. He can’t be too bad if he does that I
suppose. I’ve always said young people these days don’t have enough community
spirit, so it makes a change to have one who’s willing to help out.’
A man in work clothes walked into the shop and started to
look around. ‘Can I help you with anything, love?’ Mrs Rooney asked him.
An idea came to Cam while he waited for her to finish
serving her customer. When he asked, she said she’d be happy to have Ruby help
out in the shop every now and then. But even with the arrangements made, he
continued to the station with heavy steps, eyes to the ground, concentrating on
the cracks in the pavement.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
**SPOILER FREE**
No surprise by this author that she puts out another well written book! This one kept the pages turned quicker than anything...Smooth sailing with the story plot that keeps you on the edge. The characters are enjoyable. The plot of the story will have you guessing and trying waiting to get further into the story to see what all ends up taking place.
*Received for an honest review*
No surprise by this author that she puts out another well written book! This one kept the pages turned quicker than anything...Smooth sailing with the story plot that keeps you on the edge. The characters are enjoyable. The plot of the story will have you guessing and trying waiting to get further into the story to see what all ends up taking place.
*Received for an honest review*
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Felicity Young
was born in Germany and educated in the United Kingdom whilst her parents were
posted around the world with the British Army. In 1976 the family settled in
Perth. Felicity trained as a nurse followed by an arts degree. In 1990 the
family moved from the city and established a Suffolk sheep farm in Gidgegannup
WA. Here she studied music, reared orphan kangaroos and started writing.
http://www.felicityyoung.com/
http://felicityyoungblog.com
https://www.facebook.com/felicityyoungauthor/timeline/
Buy link:
http://www.amazon.com/Flashpoint-Felicity-Young-ebook/dp/B014CAEONW/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1443036768&sr=8-1&keywords=FLASHPOINT+Felicity+Young
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/flashpoint-felicity-young/1122566346?ean=9781460706244
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