Esther Valentine Chronicles Book 1 Red Wood Fence: Esther Valentine Chronicles, #1

By Rebecca Conaty Bruce

Esther Valentine grew up in Texas the great-great-granddaughter of a civil war soldier. When she tried to find her dream career nothing seem to catch her interest. Esther tried the police academy, learned Karate, and firearms training. She loved solving crimes but didn't want to be part of the team or sit behind a desk. She decided to start her own detective agency and be her own boss. Her specialty…solving cold cases. Along with her long time friend and mentor Detective Mark Sailor of the Texas Rangers, Esther solves cold cases in her great state of Texas. Along the way their friendship turns into more than friends even though Esther tried hard to deny her feelings. In book 1 Esther is called to her home town of Amarillo to solve the case of a missing girl. No one commits a crime without leaving something behind and Esther always finds the clue.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rebecca Conaty Bruce
• Release date: Oct 26, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201189884

Rebecca Conaty Bruce

Rebecca started writing at an early age but did not become a serious writer until she retired and then published her first book: Irish Bones Rebecca now lives in Florida with her husband and writes full time. She has two series published and one YA fiction/fantasy.

Book preview

Introduction

Esther Valentine tried hard to fit in, find her dream career, and put down the expected roots, but nothing seems to stick. She earned a brown belt in karate, trained in the police academy, took college classes in psychology, became an amateur reporter, and still felt dissatisfied. Being a team player just wasn’t her thing. Her next choice was to start her own detective agency and be her own boss. Her specialty...is solving cold cases. Esther charges a hefty fee to find a missing loved one, a stolen item, or solve a cold case with her long time friend and mentor Detective Mark Sailor of the Texas Rangers. Esther commits herself to a case then retreats to her sixty-five acre ranch in Texas to rest while awaiting her next case. Esther believes no one commits a crime without leaving something behind.

The characters in this story are fictional. Some of the locations, businesses, and cities are historical in fact.

For evil people cannot sleep until they have done their evil deed for the day.... and have caused someone to stumble

Proverbs 4:16 New Living Translation Bible

Chapter 1

When the phone rang at 3 am I knew it was a call that could not be good news or it was a prank caller asking me if my refrigerator was running. You cannot really get mad at those prank calls because you know when you were a teenager you did it and it was funny.

I moved to Dallas hoping to land my dream job. I am not really sure which dream job, seeing I have tried many in my life time and I mean many. Mother always said do not put all your eggs in one basket. I never understood that until now.

What do eggs in a basket have to do with me mother?

I want you to spread your wings and try new things

Again, you are quoting these little sayings to me that I do not understand the meaning of mother

One day you will my darling, one day you will she said.

Trying new things landed me in just outside of Dallas one day. I decided Dallas was as good a place as any to work from, so I stayed and bought a ranch that was in foreclosure.  After each dream job failure, I moved on until now. At least until I can retire on that beach in somewhere, Florida. The gulf coast warm waters and white sand invade my dreams at night. Some folks mark memorable moments with a cigar or a glass of wine. I mark them with beach, sunshine, waves, and tan lines. Walking the beach till dawn to watch the sunrise allowing the waves to wash away all thoughts of my last case is my happy place and deepest desire. One day I will sell everything including my fifteen pairs of cargo pants I wear every day and the ranch, then run around in shorts, bikini tops and flip flops burying my toes in the white sand wearing a floppy hat.

Yep, that will be me one day. Until then I work on a case by case basis and come home to the ranch just outside of Dallas and my mother. Mother travels around like a hippie with her friends in a Bounder RV experiencing life, trying new things and keeping her eggs out of any one basket. When I return to my home base, she leaves. I always need alone time after a case.

When I was young I hated the bullies at school so I decided that I wanted to be a karate expert, I took classes and got to the brown belt. It was for confidence and self defense I told myself. As with other things I tried in life, as soon as I know I can do it, I tend to quit and watch every one drop their jaw in shock. The day of the test of black belt, I told my mom I felt tired and did not want to go. She nodded her head, quoted a proverb, and did not make me go. Maybe she should have. It makes you wonder what this creature of such independence and wit could have become if I had only finished what I started. I do not know where all the proverbs, quotes life lesson sayings came from but mother was full of them. Perhaps it was her Irish roots or my mother was just one of those mothers.

One day a policeman visited our home because a child was missing from our neighborhood, and seeing their gun and uniform, I wanted to join the police force. This was going to be my dream job and I was going to solve crimes. My mother wanted me to be an accountant like she was before she retired and went gallivanting around the country.  Like I said, I had many dreams but you cannot fix the world with numbers, paperclips and rubber bands, and I wanted to fix the world and hunt down bad guys. My mind was set.

When I told other girls in school they laughed at me. No one supported my dream of becoming a police officer. I was a popular kid but not for the right reasons. I was pretty. My groups of friends at school were pretty. That was our only common denominator. That was the extent of my popularity.

Don’t do as the wicked do was my motto. Be different. Break away from the crowd. I didn’t want to be a team player; I was a talented loner on a mission. No team sports for me. I was going to be a police officer. I gave no thought to the difficult and exhausting training. I took on the challenge.  At the time, officers were required to be certified by the Commission; however a temporary certification allowed an agency to appoint a person and send them to training. The applicant had one year allowed for training. Minimum standards were a high school diploma.  So as soon as I graduated from high school I applied for the police training. It was 1970 and not many women were accepted but I got in. I can now carry a gun and I know how to use it.

Just like with the karate training, I eventually found the academy training unsatisfying. There are bullies in this world and there were bullies in the police training as well, at least with me.  Women have a tough time in this world. No matter how good or qualified we are. I finished the training. I excelled at marksmanship, surveillance and how to take down a six foot criminal with my five foot body. Then I left. I moved on to the next dream.

That police training is where I got to really know Detective Mark Sailor. He begged me to stay on with the police force but I had to go. I accomplished my goal and finished the training. I gave it my all.

Still, I felt there was another place for me. Somewhere I could fit in and I thought I found it finally while reading the newspaper and slurping the milk from my cereal bowl.   Maybe I should become a reporter that investigates crime, murder, or other lost items and treasures. Somewhere along the line, I could have taken a different route.

I have always read the paper, seeing my mother always at the kitchen table with coffee in one hand and the paper in the other. I started off with just the comics then eventually started reading the headlines and articles. I especially loved the news on crime and thought how I could solve it if I was the detective.  I scoured the obituary section and found myself wondering how the person mentioned had died. Was it their time to die or were there mysterious circumstances? I made up scenarios of how they died in my head.

Here lies Rosemary Brown who was found dead in her apartment. Later it was discovered she was poisoned and tripped over her cat named pickles while all alone at home. She wasn’t found till three days later.

It made me chuckle. I have watched my finger bleed just so I can watch the drops splatter. Watching crime shows became my passion. I sat on the couch with my notebook and pencil taking notes wondering if I could solve the crime. My notes lead to stories, making up details of the murder scene. Finally I thought I found a way to have that dream job after all. I wanted to solve crimes.

There has to be crime fighting in my future somehow I always hoped, just not as a member of the police station. Even if it is just seeing the bad people in the world get what is coming to them or possibly writing about it. There are always bad people and crimes to write a story about.

I took a few journalism classes at the local community college. I wanted to freelance so I tried writing for a small newspaper.  I would not have to punch the almighty time clock. One day, when a big story hit about a murder case I was prepared and ready to get the story. The chief would not let me take the lead. They gave it to a more seasoned reporter who was employed by the paper for years. Again I was told to be a team player and work up the ranks. I am impatient. When the big news teams swarmed on scene, I talked my way in flashing my press badge. I followed them to the scene of a crime with a handy notebook to write the beginnings of my story.  I was unfortunately still the lowest on the reporter list and cannot catch a big break. Promises can be broken. I wanted the story for myself. I don’t quite have that team player instinct down.  I saw my chance and I took my shot. It was not the best choice. If I could not solve the crime than at least I could write a story about it. My next dream job was in the making. I caught a break when I was called to write about a crime in our area because the seasoned reporter was on another case. They trusted me now that I was twenty-two years old but still a little wet behind the ears. I drove directly to the crime scene and seeing that I know most of the officers from the academy, they allowed me in on some private conversations about the body.

When I finally wrote my story for the paper, although it was compelling, I was told I had divulged too much information that could hinder the case.  I described the scene in detail. I was fired immediately. Another job goes down in flames. Mother said Don’t be a tumbleweed Esther. Tumbleweeds have weak roots and can easily break causing them to blow in the wind

I did not want to be the tumbleweed.

Chapter 2

The voice on the other end of the line at 3am was apologetic about the time but "would I consider traveling for a new salvage cold case job?" Before Detective Mark Sailor even finished speaking, I was sitting up straight in bed, my heart starting to beat faster. There has always been an attraction there between us, kept deep under wraps. That lovely voice, his voice, just on the other line sent hot flashes to my neck and face.  When we first met it was considered a crush, being only seventeen and he was twenty three. However, after meeting up again in the police academy, our attraction grew into something else. We just didn’t know what exactly. We were immediately feeling an attraction we could not act on being in training. He stayed and moved up in the police force in Amarillo and I put down roots outside of Dallas. I needed the distance. It was my choice. He respects my new career now and our unspoken desires. At least my unspoken desires, he would have preferred a roll in the hay a long time ago, it just never happened. I consider him a friend. My best friend.

You can talk to a person and hang out for a few hours and have a friend for life, but some will only ever be acquaintances. Detective Sailor fits nicely in both categories. He calls occasionally to send a job my way. Same scenario, I hear his voice on the phone, get a rush, voices cracks, and then settle down, compose myself and listen to what he has to say. Usually a job the police have given up for a cold case. The referrals come to me without his associate’s knowledge and that works for me. Secretly I think he admires my career of choice and would join forces if he could.

Basically, my latest dream job after so many has failed to keep me interested, is what I fondly call salvage and discovery. I solve crimes where the trail has gone cold. I charge a hefty fee for those who can pay. At least this independent career choice seemed to stick and fit my lifestyle of avoid people, stay low and only take jobs I choose to do. And I love it.

The idea came to me after a friend called me in a panic because their beloved Chihuahua named Bagel, had gone missing. I searched for the dog and went door to door questioning neighbors. I was in-between jobs seeing as the newspaper fired me.  I retrieved the dog that was hungry but unharmed, returned her to her owners; in return they paid me a finder’s fee. Anything can be a clue and most of the time they are overlooked.

The dog job was enough to pay my rent for a month.  It was a revelation that I have talent for research and discovery. Sniffing out the details like a hound dog. Basically, I can find lost things. I did a few more jobs to get the routine and process down then started spreading out. A lost dog leads to a lost teenager who ran away, that lead to a stolen yacht I recovered near Cuba. That last job paid for my four bedroom house on a sixty-five acre ranch outside of Dallas. I am no longer a tumble weed and have put down roots. For now at least, my mother is proud of me. I moved out of my apartment that had neighbors on both sides and above me and bought an abandoned ranch.

It is my mother who now blows around in the wind. My adventurous mother parks her RV here when I am out of town to keep an eye on the place. She swims laps in the pool for exercise and waters the plants. Otherwise, she is driving all over the country having new experiences or so she says. She sold everything when my father died and bought a home on wheels. She was now free of wifely and motherly duties.

Now through word of mouth only, my abilities, services, and special skills are requested for bigger jobs. Some that requires traveling.  Most of my jobs are cold cases. Ones unsolved by the police. Someone wants a private detective or a crime solved the police gave up on, they call me and in return I get paid a hefty fee. I decide if I will take the job or not. It is my choice. I stash a chunk of money and the rest goes into my retire on the beach fund.

I hung up the phone, now being fully awake, hopped out of bed and started running through my bedroom doing a happy dance.  A happy dance that I was going to see Mark Sailor again and that I had another job that would get me closer to the early retirement of my dreams.

The story of course was tragic but this could be a big case, one I have never forgotten since the day the officers visited our home all those years ago. So I feel a little happy dance in the privacy of my own home would be appropriate, if I was the only one in the room to see it. I quickly