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C.M. gives an overview of the book:

A lavish bedroom soaked in blood, but no victim.  The wife of a prominent surgeon missing and the doctor under suspicion of having killed her.  Sacramento Homicide Steve Music will face his greatest test in this mystery, the second in the Music Trilogy.
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A lavish bedroom soaked in blood, but no victim.  The wife of a prominent surgeon missing and the doctor under suspicion of having killed her. 

Sacramento Homicide Steve Music will face his greatest test in this mystery, the second in the Music Trilogy.

Read an excerpt »

Even the clearest and most perfect circumstantial evidence is likely to be at fault.

Mark Twain

We should be extremely wary of clues that appear to favor our pet theory. 

—Émile Gaboriau

Calmer now, his mother spoke in a softer, more plaintive tone:  “Look at all those books I managed to get for you boys,” she said, pointing to the bookcase beside the door.  “Dictionaries, things to help make you a smarter boy.”

Artis looked at the bookcase and then back down at the floor. 

His mother shook her head and stood up.  “Oh,” she said, turning back toward her son, “A man was here this morning. He was looking for you.  A white man.”

“A popo?”

Popo!  Lord have mercy!  He didn’t look like any policeman I ever seen.  Popo!” Suddenly suspicious again, her tone changed, “Why would the police be looking for you?  What you done now, boy?”  She placed her hands on her ample hips.

Artis immediately became the defensive little boy again, “I didn’t do nothing, Mama.  I don’t know.  You know, the popos they always be harassing folks for nothing, like for driving while black.”

“Boy, you better get your license before I catch you driving while black or any other color, you understand?”

“I haven’t done a thing, Mama.  I swear.  Besides any white man be giving me any sh—any trouble, I’ll be calling Johnnie Cochran.”

“Johnnie Cochran?” His mother loosed a loud laugh, and then suddenly became motherly again.  “Honey, don’t you know that poor Mr. Cochran done passed a time ago already?”

“He did?  Well, anyways, I don’t have to be worrying about any white men up in here looking for me. Anyways, I was just jiving about Mr. Cochran…what did he want, that man?”

“He wouldn’t say.  Said it weren’t nothing serious.  Just wanted to talk to you about some business.”

Artis’ eyes widened.  “Business?  What kind of business?”

“He didn’t say,” she told him.  “I imagine he’ll be back.”

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Available in print or as an ebook.

About C.M.

                     ABOUT US 

 First, I'm not "us".  I'm me. I work alone. I'm a private eye. When my casebook's empty, I write books. Murder books. I wear a dark fedora and a trench coat even when it's a hundred and...

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