Ice Queen

By Heather C. Myers

After recovering from Friday night, private investigator Mika Chalmers is trying to piece together what happened to her. Detective Alex Beech is up in arms about what happened, blaming himself for leaving her alone with a sergeant who’s looking more and more untouchable, especially with no evidence. Eric Foresburg, her kind-of boyfriend, wants to take her away from all of this. Mika just wants to solve the case - which is hard to do since she can’t remember anything.

Due to both men unknowingly putting pressure on her, Mika enlists the help of someone completely unexpected: smarmy defense attorney and pain her butt, Ryan King.

Everyone thinks Sergeant Bill McNally is responsible for what happened to Mika. He was present and he conducted the interview after everyone left. But evidence starts cropping up that it could be the one person Mika would never expect: Detective Alex Beech.

If Mika doesn’t solve this crime soon, Beech is going to be put away for a crime she knows he didn’t commit. But she can’t solve the crime if she doesn’t remember what happened.

With the heated chemistry of Castle and the unpredictable twists and turns of Bones, hockey fans are devouring this new romantic mystery series by a USA Today Best Selling Author.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Heather C. Myers
• Release date: Oct 2, 2021

Heather C. Myers

Full disclosure: I am an acquired taste. I'm a typical blonde Orange County suburbanite who says 'like' more than necessary, laughs loud and probably obnoxiously, and loves to dance in the rain. I'm a 25 year old college graduate with more than a few tricks up my sleeve, and I also happen to be a pretty big Ducks fan. Oh, and I'm a writer. Like, for real.I recently signed with Anchor Group Publishing, which will see two of my series being published this year. I've self-published over 15 books, with more on the way, so I'm familiar with both a hybrid-traditional publishing method as well as self-publishing.I don't speak in third person (normally) nor do I wear glasses (except when I'm feeling particularly mischievous). I'm lucky to have found my soul mate at the ripe old age of 22, even though he frustrates me on purpose to get a reaction out of me. We live near Disneyland, have two rambunctious female puppies, and have a beautiful baby girl. He has two amazing boys, and has gotten me hooked on Smallville, watching soccer (okay, okay FOOTBALL - FC Barcelona, baby!), and Cancun Juice.

Book preview

Chapter 1

After I was released from the hospital, I didn’t go home. I went to my office and I stayed there. I didn’t flip the sign and indicate I was open. I didn’t take any calls. I just sat at my desk in the silence, wondering what the hell had happened to me.

Rape was such a dirty word. It happened to people on television. It happened to college girls at frat parties. It happened to women in the past who left their houses unlocked. It happened to friends of friends.

I never expected it to happen to me.

The worst part about the whole thing was the fact that I couldn’t remember anything. I had no connection to what the doctors told me at the hospital so I couldn’t even react. My father was angry. My boyfriend was worse. But I was nothing, a voice I couldn’t tap into, no matter how badly I wanted to.

Instead of being angry or sad, I thought of things that didn’t actually matter, in the grand scheme of things. I thought of my life as though the rape hadn’t occurred because, in my mind, it hadn’t. The doctor told me there was a chance I might not remember the attack at all. Luckily, he performed a rape kit, so any evidence on my person would be discovered.

I leaned back in my chair, waiting for my phone to ring. Eric had been in Canada when it happened, along with my father. Being on a professional hockey team meant travel was inevitable. However, they flew back the second the hospital called them. My father was still my emergency contact, and since I was sort of dating Eric again, I was positive he told Eric what had happened.

I almost wished they hadn’t come home. I knew that made me sound selfish. I just wanted life to continue on as normal, but the second the two of them stepped through my door, the way they looked at me, I knew they were going to treat me differently.

My eyes flickered over to my phone. It kept lighting up. I knew it was texts from Eric, wanting to know if I was sure I wanted to stay there and not his place where he thought I was safer. It was my dad, checking in and asking if I needed anything.

But it wasn’t Alex Beech.

I clenched my jaw and looked away from my phone. October meant Halloween. It meant falling leaves and a chill in the air. Even in Irvine, the leaves fell. We didn’t get a huge variety of colors the way the mid-west and the east did, but it was enough to tell us autumn was in full swing. The sun was bright, almost like something terrible hadn’t happened. It was as though the day was continuing on despite what happened to me. For some strange reason, this relieved me more than Eric’s texts.

I tried not to allow myself to be bothered by the fact that Beech hadn’t texted me or called me or even visited me in the hospital. It wasn’t like we were actual partners.

A brief knock on my door startled me from my thoughts. Who could possibly be knocking when my sign wasn’t even turned?

At first, I considered ignoring them. I didn’t know who they were and I didn’t want to deal with anyone right now. But they continued to knock and I would rather go over and say something than wait for them to decide to leave. I pushed up from my chair and walked over. Every movement felt like I had to put in so much effort, it was difficult for me to do a simple task such as head to the door and tell a potential client to come back later.

Except, when I went to the door, it wasn’t just a potential client. The chief of police, Donna Hughes, stared back at me, her nearly black eyes rooting me in my spot, her crisp, navy blue uniform trimming her figure. Her black hair was pulled back into a tight bun. But when she saw me, her gaze softened. I didn’t know why, but I relaxed slightly upon seeing it, as though I was afraid that she thought I had done something wrong or came to question my actions that led to my rape.

I unlocked the door to let her in. Even her badge she proudly wore over her breast seemed to shine.

Ms. Chalmers, she said, after I closed the door and led her back to my office. It’s so good to put a face to a name. Many people at the department speak so highly of you.

Oh. My cheeks pinched and my eyes found the floor as I reached to cup the back of my neck. Well, I’m glad I was able to help them.

Help is an understatement. She stepped into my office and glanced around at the certificates that hung up on my wall, at the newspaper clippings the local paper had done for my business. I didn’t know why but it felt as though I was being inspected for some strange reason.

How are you doing? she asked, turning around and walking over to one of the two seats I had positioned in front of my desk for potential or current clients. Forgive me for the ridiculous question. I know you aren’t good in the slightest. However, I am asking to gage where you are and if there’s anything you need.

I cleared my throat and slowly took my own seat, shifting with unease. Not because I was uncomfortable with her presence, but because it felt strange having a stranger concerned over me.

I’m as good as I can be, I guess, I told her.

This was as close to the truth as I could get. The doctor said that physically – besides a bit of soreness – I was fine. They tested for STD’s and pregnancy, but there wasn’t any actual damage done to my body. What I would have to overcome, he had said, was the mental and emotional aspect of what happened to me. The fact that I couldn’t remember any of it would only make things harder.

I’m glad to hear that, she said, taking a seat in front of me. I wanted to come by and officially take your statement, if that’s okay with you. If you’re not up for it, I can come back at a more convenient time.

I already gave my statement at the hospital, I said. I don’t remember what happened. All I remember was waking up in the hospital. The doctor told me what happened to me.

Donna nodded her head, jutting out her bottom lip into an overexaggerated frown, as though she expected this sort of response. She stood up and turned, looking at my small bookshelf.

Why were you at the station that night, Ms. Chalmers? she asked.

Instead of pacing in my office, she moved slowly from one side to the other, stopping and taking in pictures and accolades I proudly displayed on the walls of my office. At first, I thought they’d be too gimmicky, but they weren’t, at least not to me.

I had an interview for a detective position, I said. I itched to reach over and take my pen in my hand and start doodling, like I was back in college and my professor was giving a lecture.

Wasn’t there some sort of celebration as well? she asked.

Oh, yes. I nodded once. I hadn’t even thought of that, but now that she had mentioned it, I was surprised to find I did remember the celebration. Beech and I were celebrating putting Abigail Howie away for murdering Dave Probst.

The case felt far away, despite having solved it only a couple of days ago. Was my memory really this bad or had so much happened in such a short amount of time that time felt off? Then again, spending any sort of time in a hospital was a time suck, that much I knew. My father had had triple bypass surgery three years ago and I stayed with him the whole time. When he finally got his discharge papers, I didn’t even know what day it was.

And you interviewed after that? she asked. When the celebration died down?

I wrinkled my forehead. This was when things started to get a little fuzzy. The space between my eyebrows pulsed and I tilted my head to the side so my hair fell over my shoulder. Usually, I wore it up in a ponytail, but I had a slight headache and any pressure on my scalp only made it worse.

I don’t remember, I said. I think…

I didn’t know. Not for sure.

Tell me, Ms. Chalmers, are you genuinely interested in becoming a detective with the IPD? she asked, turning from my wall to face me. Her posture was perfect, her hands still pressed behind her back. Her brown eyes were warm, but there was something in her gaze, something that indicated she wasn’t quite sure whether or not to believe me.

I… I let my voice trail off. To be honest, the only reason I considered the interview in the first place was because of Beech. He was the one who wanted me to work with him, and I thought it would be nice to work with a team rather than by myself. I guess I was flattered that Beech wanted to work with me in an official capacity.

I think that that hesitation right there is enough to answer my question, she said, turning from me to continue to look at my wall. See, Ms. Chalmers, I didn’t want to not give you a chance when you come so highly recommended, but I’m not going to stick with you if you don’t even know whether you want to stick with it. This job isn’t going to be easy. Hell, the process to get to detective isn’t going to be easy. I know you’ve been through a lot, but before I decide to let you go through the process, I need to make sure you can handle it.

I took a moment to let her words sink in because, whether I wanted to admit it or not, she was right. Could I handle the arduous process of a detective interview with the IPD? Did I want to put myself through that?

You asked if I genuinely wanted to be a detective, I said. Honestly, I hadn’t considered it at all until Beech posed the question. I want to work with him in an official capacity. That’s what I want, and going through whatever ordeal in order to get that opportunity is something I’m willing to put myself through.

Interesting. She raised her brows before turning back around.

I frowned, annoyed. Now she was just playing a game.

What’s interesting? I asked flatly.

I glared into her back, willing her to turn and give me the respect I thought I deserved. Was she interrogating me about the rape or was she interviewing me for detective?

I didn’t know.

That you bring up Detective Beech, she said.

And why is that? Why dangle fruit only to yank it away? It didn’t make any sense and, quite frankly, I was getting annoyed with it.

Detective Beech has become a person of interest in your case, Ms. Chalmers, she said.

A person of interest?

Donna turned from where she stood so she could look at me over her shoulder. Even you know what a person of interest is, Ms. Chalmers, she said. I’m sure you watch police procedurals just like the rest of us do. They tend to get a lot wrong in order to tell a good story, but they have certainly got that aspect correct.

I guess I just don’t understand, I said, each word coming out slow and confused. Are you seriously saying you’re considering the possibility that Beech is… I couldn’t even finish the sentence out loud. Hell, I couldn’t even finish that sentence in my head, it was so ridiculous.

We do, she said. She turned back around, hands behind your back.

That’s wrong. I shook my head, standing up. You’re wrong.

How do you know? Donna tilted her head to the side, narrowing her eyes at me. How could you possibly know that for sure when you, yourself, have admitted you don’t remember anything that happened to you?

I just know, I snapped. I pressed my lips together, not wanting to be any more disrespectful than I already had.

However, my confidence in Beech didn’t matter. I knew by the way Donna had her lips pressed tightly together, the way her gaze flickered up and down, that in the end, it wasn’t enough. She, and the Irvine Police, thought Beech was a viable suspect in my rape.

Chapter 2

After I wrapped up the interview with the chief, I decided to head home. I was still fuming over what the chief suggested about Beech, and if I didn’t remove myself from my office, there was a good chance I’d be throwing things and kicking things and doing more damage here than I could afford. Eric had sent me an incessant amount of text messages, all of which demanded to know where I was, who I was with, and what I was doing. I knew he was being protective. I knew he was concerned about my well-being. But I couldn’t help but be annoyed at the fact that he wouldn’t leave me alone for one second.

Instead of heading to his place, which he asked me to do, I drove to mine. Catsey Cline picked her head up from the comfy spot she had made for herself in the middle of my couch, her gaze surprised I bothered to come home after a night in the hospital. I nearly laughed. There was no concern on her face. She almost seemed annoyed I had come home at all.

At least she wasn’t treating me like I was some kind of glass doll, ready to break at any moment.

It wasn’t long before there was a knock on the door. I already knew who it was before I opened it. Eric Foresburg would not relent in his insistence to protect me. He had skipped practice this morning to help me check out of the hospital and he wanted to drive me home – and by home, he meant his place. He wasn’t particularly happy when I told him to drop me off at work, but I didn’t care. My father had my car taken to my PI office later

Reviews for Ice Queen

[susan · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

The series has potential, I just have a hard time with it because there are so many inconstancies! Wrong character names, times don’t match up, places don’t match up. One second they are in Starbucks, the next they are in her office. Meeting someone for lunch but no time was mentioned in the call, just ordered drinks but is chewing a bite of burger! That is just a few in the first couple of books!