THE DIRTY BLONDE by Tim Smith
Vic Fallon Book 3
A tough private eye gets involved with a blonde beauty in a search for her missing husband—but how many more wives are waiting in the wings?
Former cop Vic Fallon is content to live in Sandusky, Ohio, on his disability settlement and take the occasional private eye job when he isn’t fishing. He doesn’t really want to get involved in a missing persons case, but when Amy Bergen arrives from Tennessee looking for her estranged husband who’s avoiding divorce court, Vic is taken in by her southern charm and agrees to help her. His search brings him into contact with a local gangster wannabe, a crooked cop and a gambling syndicate. When another woman shows up claiming to be the missing man’s wife, the case takes a bizarre turn. Can Vic find the wayward husband before all of his wives catch up with him? Will his feelings for Amy develop into something more than professional?
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~Excerpt~
Detective Dave Becker sat behind his desk at the Sandusky, Ohio Police Department, looking at the complaint report in his hand. He reached up with his free hand to tug at the open collar of his short-sleeved shirt, then lightly scratched behind his ear. The air conditioner was on but not working efficiently enough to impact the late June heat. He exhaled a slow breath and looked at the woman seated across his desk. She was a petite, busty blonde in her early thirties, about five-feet-five with light blue eyes, who had traveled to the northern Ohio village from Tennessee. Becker mentally prepared himself for the speech he was about to give.
“I’m sorry, Miss Bergen, but this isn’t really a police matter. You say your husband…”
“Ex-husband,” Amy Bergen corrected in a voice that had a slight southern drawl. “I mean, he will be my ex as soon you track him down and get him to sign the divorce papers. Then I can get together with my new beau.”
“As I was saying, this really isn’t something we can help you with.”
Amy looked surprised. “You do look for missing persons, right?”
“Yes, but your husband…”
“Soon to be ex-husband.”
“Right. Your soon-to-be-ex-husband isn’t technically missing. You say he left…where did you say you were from?”
“Lenoir City, Tennessee. It’s just outside Knoxville.”
“He left Lenoir City and you think he came here, but if he isn’t wanted for a crime and there are no outstanding warrants, there’s nothing we can do.”
She exhaled an exasperated breath. “Well, I just find that hard to believe. Back home the police would’ve served those papers and made him sign them.”
Becker shrugged. “I’m sorry, but unless the police or court issues a warrant, we can’t do anything.”
“There must be something. I tracked that polecat to this part of your lovely state on my own. He can’t be that hard to find.”
Becker opened his desk drawer, withdrew a business card then handed it across the desk. “That’s the card for someone who may be able to help you.”
Amy scrutinized it. “Vic Fallon,” she recited then looked at Becker. “What is he, some high-priced private eye?”
“Not exactly. He’s a friend who used to be a cop. He does this sort of thing once in awhile. If you can’t reach him at the number on that card, try Freighters Lounge on Marblehead.”
“Try what on where?”
“Freighters Lounge is a local bar where he hangs out. Marblehead Peninsula is about ten miles from here. Just go west on State Route 2 and follow the signs. Anyone can tell you how to get there if you get lost.”
Amy stood and politely extended her hand across the desk. “Thank you for your time, Detective Becker.”
Becker smiled, shook hands with her then watched her leave his office. He lowered his eyelids slightly. Oh, if only I weren’t married…
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