The Case of Billy's Missing Gun (Sherlock and Me Mystery)

By SJ Slagle

Super sleuth Lucy James is hired to find the Colt pistol that may have belonged to Billy the Kid. Hampered by dishonest weapon experts, a pawnshop murder and unusual architecture at a downtown casino, her investigation is rocky at best. A massive snowstorm has blanketed Reno leaving Lucy to slog her way to interviews with uncooperative witnesses. Her father’s abrupt firing from his job as the host of a local children’s television show and the impending marriage between her best friend Cindy Floyd and her detective fiancé Skip Callahan grab chunks of Lucy’s fleeting attention. But she is determined to find the missing gun before the next snowstorm even though her on and off relationship with handsome professor Eric Schultz is off again.
With sheer tenacity and a pair of thick snow boots, Lucy muscles through to the mystery’s resolution. It isn’t easy but mystery and murder never are.

• Language: English
• Publisher: SJ Slagle
• Release date: Mar 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463900550

SJ Slagle

I'm the proud honoree of the 2018 B.R.A.G. Medallion for excellence in historical fiction. My book, London Spies, is the first of a trilogy about a young woman in military intelligence in WWII.I am an unabashed lover of mysteries. Sue Grafton, Sherlock Holmes, Lawrence Block, Walter Mosley, JA Jance and Tony Hillerman are just a few authors who have tantalized my imagination over the years and I reread their work whenever I need stimulation. And instruction. A writer goes to the master to learn that certain turn of phrase, a unique POV or how to kickstart the story reverberating in your head.I grew up in Illinois, moved to Arizona and, after college, toured some of the world including Puerto Rico, Florida and the Virgin Islands. I've traveled throughout my lifetime giving setting and tone new twists as my horizons expanded. My work as a teacher in Language Arts and video production have proven time and again to be superb launching pads for my writing.I write mysteries and historical fiction as SJ Slagle and western romances as Jeanne Harrell. My sister and I started writing children's books long ago and those are published under both our names: Sinda Cheri Floyd. The stories we write are loosely based on our collective experiences during childhood.Enjoy my books and happy reading!

Book preview

THE CASE OF BILLY’S MISSING GUN

(SHERLOCK AND ME SERIES)

BY

SJ SLAGLE

COPYRIGHT, 2019

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This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was purchased for your use only, then please return it to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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Thank you for downloading my book! I am happy that you have made it part of your library.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author and/or publisher. No part of this publication may be sold or hired, without written permission from the author.

Special thanks goes to my editors: Cheri Mills, Pam Kilrain and Carol Purroy.

Enjoy these books by SJ Slagle

Sherlock and Me Series

The Case of the Starry Night

The Case of the Feathered Snitch

The Case of the Ghost Horse

The Case of Billy’s Missing Gun

Phyllis Bowden Series

London Spies

Oslo Spies

Washington Spies coming next fall

Single titles

The Reunion

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Also by SJ Slagle as her pseudonym, Jeanne Harrell

Rancher Series

Rancher’s Girl

Whisperer

Always and Forever

Being Emma

The Darkest Hour

Just Before Dawn

Rancher’s Christmas

Westerners Series

Riding the River

Stream Ran Dry

Lonesome Creek

Cool Water

Avila Beach Winery Series

The Winemaker’s Dilemma

Winemaker’s Son

Single Titles

Persuaded

These Nevada Boys

Courting Polly’s Daddy

Never Let Me Go

Shoulda Been a Rancher

Since I Fell for You

That Nevada Girl

http://www.jeanneharrell.com

http://www.sjslagle.com

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

EXCERPT FROM THE CASE OF THE STARRY NIGHT

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THE CASE OF BILLY’S MISSING GUN

(A SHERLOCK AND ME MYSTERY)

by SJ Slagle, 2019

CHAPTER 1

My name is Lucy James. Life seems to revolve in cycles and I’ve been trying to decide if this is an up or down cycle at this moment in time.

On the up side, I earned my private investigator license in Nevada last year and got a decent chunk of cash a couple of cases ago. On the down side, I shot through most of it renting my new office in downtown Reno and blowing the rest on a horse. No, it wasn’t a racehorse and I wasn’t betting in one of the casinos around here. I’d helped out a little boy in his hour of need.

That’s me. Lucy the do-gooder or so my best friend Cindy always tells me. Anyway, the boy’s dad was so grateful that he’s paying me back in installments. Problem is sometimes his installments don’t meet all my expenses and since another case hasn’t darkened my office lately, I’m still plugging away at the old movie theater by the Truckee River that winds its way through the city. It’s been my go-to job all through college and it appears it’s going to see me through a bulk of my adulthood too.

It pays the rent.

Today I wandered down to a local television station, KNVP, to see my dad at work. Larry James has been the host of Uncle Ollie’s Playhouse, a hit local show for kids under ten since the beginning of my ill-fated college career. Not my cup of tea but he enjoys it. Dad’s tenacity to stick with the program is the one characteristic I’m pleased to have inherited from him. Jury’s out on the rest.

In through a back door, everyone nodded as I slipped by to stand at the edge of the playhouse set to see how Uncle Ollie was doing. Shelves with colorful toys, bouncy balls, a purple-leafed plant, a man in shining armor and bowls of fruit decorated the interior. Ollie was perched on a stool in the center of the activity singing a song about getting along with your neighbors. His singing partner was a puppet resembling some unidentified breed of dog. The droopy ears and bulbous nose should have been dead giveaways but weren’t. Not that it mattered. Several happy little kids hovered around the puppet clapping and singing along with a beaming Uncle Ollie.

I watched in wonder at the man in bright red slacks and striped sweater. With his feet encased in fuzzy slippers and a shaggy blondish wig, Uncle Ollie, aka my dad, was a cross between a stylish Mr. Rogers and a 1950s Captain Kangaroo. But if memory served me, Dad should have been singing with a bunny rabbit if his emphasis that day was Captain Kangaroo.

I never asked him what daytime children’s show his was patterned after because I knew what he’d say. With wide eyes and a forlorn look etched on a comic face, Larry James would exclaim, "Lucy! How can you think I would ever stoop so low as to mimic one of those people?" He would draw out the word ‘those’ to two syllables laced with enough irony to make me want to starch a shirt. Ugh. Then I would get his standard lecture about being an original and if you couldn’t be original, why bother?

But there weren’t as many children on the set as usual and the two cameramen stifled yawns. No director hovered creating the usual chaotic whirlwind and there was a slight chill in the atmosphere I’d never experienced before. Even Uncle Ollie’s typically bright eyes and smile seemed forced and I wondered what was up. I found out as soon as Ollie and his sidekick Pete the Dragon finished singing the theme song, signaling the end of the program and the children were herded off the set. Dad stormed after them heading right for the control booth on the second floor. Sensing trouble, I tagged along.

Wait up, Dad. What’s the rush? Aren’t you going to take off your costume?

He didn’t turn in his haste to acknowledge me as he ran up the stairs, but managed to spit out, Not now, Lucy.

Blowing through the door of the control room, he got right in the executive producer’s face. A large man with few strands of hair and fewer principles, Rance Morgan wasn’t more than forty but looked fifty, clogged the already stuffy air with cigar smoke and ordered his staff around like they were born to wait on him. He had only become executive producer this past year and he and Dad had clashed from day one. Today didn’t seem more promising than any other day.

Morgan! What the hell is the idea? Puffs of steam from Uncle Ollie’s ears seemed to wilt his shaggy wig.

Rance Morgan stood stiffly towering over Larry James with a look of defiance.

What is it now, James? The lead arc light too bright again?

You know what I’m talking about, Morgan. Cut the crap!

Morgan smirked, folded his arms across his broad chest. A button popped open when he inhaled.

Yeah. Same old, same old. Pete got more camera than you did. He shook his head so slowly that I nearly laughed out loud. The guy was as big a ham as my father.

Pete did, the children did, the puppets all did. Even Leapin’ Lizard got great angles. Why I was barely in the program at all. Why don’t you make it ‘Uncle Ollie’s Playhouse Without Uncle Ollie’?

Morgan’s smirk became a sneer. Great idea, James. Pack up that crap costume you insist on wearing and don’t let the door hit you on the backside when you slink out!

Dad’s jaw hit the floor. What are you saying?

Just what you suggested: I’m firing you. Thanks for saying what I’ve been meaning to for the better part of this year.

Dad raised himself to full height, put his fists on his hips and sneered right back. How do you expect to have Uncle Ollie’s Playhouse without Uncle Ollie? That’s me, you idiot!

What? He laughed. Think I can’t get another guy to play your moronic character? In a heartbeat, pal. Morgan stepped aside and headed toward me. You and your stuck-up daughter can find your own way out.

Hey! I protested. But he muscled by me tossing a shrug in my direction without giving either of us a second look. When I turned to my dad, a very indignant Uncle Ollie met my open-mouthed stare. His camera make-up looked about ready to drip off his tomato red face.

Dad, you just got fired.

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CHAPTER 2

Way to state the obvious, Lucy.

Dad. My open mouth closed and frowned. No need to take this mess out on me.

While we took stock of one another, the quiet in the control room took on an ominous silence. Four frozen people at the control board sat still probably hoping for invisibility.

Dad’s eyes narrowed causing his fuzzy eyebrows to resemble furry caterpillars on the move. He called you stuck-up.

Yeah. So?

Lucy.

I glanced around at the invisible control room staff. Besides being frozen, two men and two women were collectively holding their breaths.

Um…maybe we should take this downstairs to your dressing room.

His eyes darted accusingly toward our audience before rushing out of the room without another word. I looked around, shrugged my shoulders and stuck a finger in the air. Anyone thirsty? With that inane comment, the only thing I could think of to say, I followed a hastily retreating Uncle Ollie. He tore off the striped sweater hurrying down the stairs and threw it over his head. I caught it one-handed hoping he wasn’t going to step out of his pants next. Four long strides and Dad was jerking open his dressing room door with a fury I hadn’t seen since my younger sister and I, when we were four and six, had washed his collection of coins thinking they were dirty. A few had sorta slipped down the drain and Dad still hasn’t forgiven me for that caper. Of course, he has forgiven my perfect sister, Dianne, the erstwhile career diplomat in England. But then she has a successful career and I don’t. No. No hard feelings here.

I’d barely cleared the doorway and he whipped around to face me.

He called you stuck-up.

What do you care what he calls me? This is about you and your job.

Lucy. I could tell by his stone face and sarcasm-dripping tone that he wasn’t going to budge unless I spilled the beans. He’s got that John Malkovich thing going for him like the evil character in that movie Con Air who tried to bump off everyone. I buckle every time.

Okay, okay. I threw up my hands. Morgan has asked me out a couple of times but I’ve always turned him down.

Why didn’t you tell me?

Why should I? You really want to hear about every guy I turn down?

He’s not just any guy; he’s my boss.

He used to be your boss.

Uncle Ollie stared me down. Is this about me or you?

My mouth formed an O. Incredible! You think he fired you because I wouldn’t go out with him? You’re nuts.

But he said—

What he said was that you two have argued since he was first hired and you haven’t agreed about anything in the program. I’ve been around enough to witness the discontent this whole past year.

When he started to object, I hurried on.

Don’t even think about dragging me into this mess, Dad. It’s yours. You figure it out.

I turned to go but looked back over my shoulder. By the way, there’s a big stain on your pants. Did you drop butter from the popcorn sketch on them? Again?

When Larry James looked down at his pants, the shaggy wig slipped off his head.

Crap.

I nodded and shut the door