Murder At The Regency (Annie Hansen Mysteries Book 3)

Book summary

In "Murder At The Regency," Annie Hansen and her partner, Mark Snow, delve into the perplexing murder of Mark's aunt, Clarise, found lifeless in their apartment building's lobby. Amidst a web of potential suspects, including a contract killer, a charity scam, and a dubious boyfriend, Annie's endearing bouts of schizophrenia add an intriguing dimension. With Mark's unwavering support, they navigate this enigmatic puzzle with intelligence and wit, determined to unearth the truth behind Clarise's untimely demise and deliver justice.

Excerpt from Murder At The Regency (Annie Hansen Mysteries Book 3)

I’m in your arms, Annie Hansen, my heart sings me away. I’m off this island, to a land of locusts and mead on the B.C. mainland and past that, far inland on the prairies, to a city of oilsands workers and towers where my boyhood spent itself in silly robot tales and backyard shenanigans. Then on past there to my crazy single mother and my nurturing aunt to my girlfriend, Suzanne, long gone to a husband and children, then a short career at Dairyland with the wonderful workers there who befriended me. What were their names, Annie? And then to a degree in criminology at the University of Alberta and then to a life of law enforcement in Vancouver and Victoria then to Serendipity Island. Where we were stuck.

Why am I in your arms, Annie Hansen? What confluence of stars led to our meeting in the small Canadian town of Serendipity in the Discovery Islands off the coast of Vancouver? I, Mark Wesley Snow, could have been a big wheel in the Vancouver RCMP detachment like my father before me, as my mother Mary related, my freewheeling, crazy, star-crossed, selfish mother who in the beginning you so resembled. No more, Annie, you are not quite sane, but you are mine. Not dead, not gone by your own hand like my mother, almost forgotten except for the single note she penned—I’m sorry for living, my boy, get on with it. I love you. This is on me. Perhaps the sanest thing she’d ever said to me.

There came a day when I regretted not speaking to her. That day was her funeral. I mourned her still, mostly with guilt and a huge dollop of unresolved love.

***

Annie Hansen and Mark Snow moved to Edmonton, Alberta on a Monday in the summer of 2019. With their golden retriever, Chuckles, they disembarked from Serendipity, the island they had called home together for seven years, since he first arrived, handsome and blond, to help Annie with a serial murder case that had the small Canadian island town stunned and stumped.

Since then, he’d stayed by her side through another brutal series of murders in Serendipity in 2016 and her estranged father’s involvement in the drug scene that led to the massacres. The island was no longer a refuge for Annie, who battled the voices and visions of schizophrenia as she solved crimes with her lover. Three years after the murders in Serendipity, Mark, with feet that never stayed long on one patch of earth, accepted a promotion as a Staff Sergeant with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Far from the international bustling city of Vancouver and the quaint capital city of Victoria, far from the cozy island, Mark accepted the move to Alberta as he deemed it was best for Annie. He felt Annie would settle nicely in Alberta, away from the memories she harbored of her time on the streets in Vancouver and the horrific massacres on Serendipity Island.

Edmonton, Alberta would be a fresh start for Annie and a hometown full of memories for Mark. He went where the Mounties sent him and was glad of it. His office in Sherwood Park was within a half hour drive of their Edmonton apartment. The Mounties took care of their move, though they had few belongings. They planned to replace the old green and blue patterned sofa when they got to their new home, but not his beloved green recliner. The monstera deliciosa plant came with them, a glass kitchen table and sturdy black leather swivel chairs, their new queen bed with the velvet headboard, their motorbikes and garden tools. And a plethora of boxes!

They arrived on June 3, 2019, with smoke stinging their eyes, swirled on easterly winds from wildfires in British Columbia. There was intermittent sun and later, rain. Like at home.

A city of nearly a million people, capital of the prairie province of Alberta, in a bigger city way Edmonton mirrored the snugness of the little island town they had called home. Not so much like metropolitan Vancouver, which Mark loved, but for Annie their new apartment at Regency Towers, the green spaces, and the surrounding area, were nurturing and comfortable.

Mark told himself that he’d made the move for Annie, but also for his itchy feet and dreams which led him back to his childhood home, which was not strange to him as it was to his partner, Annie. He remembered the 1980s. Raised by a bipolar mother, left alone as a child with a lonely and disturbed woman and an absent father, Mark grew like an oak and spread his branches over all he came across. His memories were kind, his heart beat full of love for the estranged, the outcast. His mother and the blue house in Calder, Suzanne, the married lover, Annie, the wild crazy girl—Mark the oak in a forest of bewitching deformed enchanted willows. Haunted by the ghosts of his youth lingering in memory, hurtful, sad, yet full of care, by 2019 Mark forgave. He lost touch with the loneliness and the joy, his small nuclear family, and the childhood friends he left behind. When they first arrived at Regency Towers in Edmonton, his mother’s sister, Clarise Williams, was as warm and loving as his mother had been distant and cold. She took them under her maternal feathers. The move was good for both him and Annie, he was sure.

He thanked his superiors for the new posting and the promotion. A well-deserved promotion, they assured him and they hoped he didn’t mind a desk job. He had outdone himself as an RCMP officer solving two heinous serial crimes on the small British Columbia island. Mark gave full credit to Annie as well. His partner in crime and in love.

***

Three weeks later, Annie Hansen hunkered beside an Avon rep on the blue and green sofa in their new Regency Towers apartment. Annie applied a dollop of pink lipstick to her cupid’s bow lips. Her golden retriever, Chuckles, who had moved with them from Serendipity Island, woofed gently. The dog laid its silky head on golden paws and gazed at Annie with adoring eyes. She reached down and scratched him behind his long ears. Chuckles woofed and nudged her hand. Her lipstick smeared. She smiled as though at an errant child, rose, and let the dog into the kitchen where he lapped the remains of his gravy and steak from a big silver bowl. Still smiling, Annie closed the door.

“My friend, Tess, in Serendipity sold me my first pink lipstick as a young woman,” she said on returning to the rep, whose name was Rowena Young. “Thanks for coming over on short notice, Rowena. I don’t know a lot of people in Edmonton. It wasn’t my idea to settle here. My partner’s superiors sent him here after ten years in B.C., and he’s over the moon about it. He was born and raised in Edmonton. He’s kept touch with only one friend in St. Paul, and his darling aunt. That gives me an inside edge on friends. Our neighbors couldn’t be nicer. One of them brought over a chicken casserole yesterday. But I miss my island.” She finished applying the color with a flourish then pursed her lips. Chuckles whined inside the kitchen.

“Please thank Tess for giving you my name.” Rowena’s deep brown eyes sparkled with golden glints. Setting her suitcase of wonders on the coffee table in front of them, she adjusted her black framed eyeglasses and ignored the kitchen sounds. “It was no trouble. After all, I live just around the corner from your building, I have a pupper, too. A black and white Sheltie-cross named Sugar.”

“Bring her around some time,” Annie replied. “Chuckles would love company. It would keep him busy while we talk.” She laughed. A thump from the kitchen indicated an attempt to breach the door. Annie called out a command and the noise stopped.