Posted by authorcamilson
About the Book
Title: Framed – A Black Swann Investigation
Author: Wayne Kerr
Genre: Mystery / Thriller
Toronto’s newest homicide detective, Reggie Swann, seemed to have it all: great career, handsome husband and plans to start a family, until she was framed for murder…
A cop has very few friends in prison. After surviving ten brutal years behind bars, Reggie’s conviction is finally overturned thanks to her tenacious mother, a new forensic test and a very clever lawyer. She quickly discovers that getting her old life back won’t be as easy as she hoped. To many, she was still as the media had dubbed her: ‘Black Swann – murderer and cop-gone-bad’. The Toronto Police Department still considers her to be a suspect, Reggie’s husband has remarried and the real killer is still on the loose.
Before Reggie can return to Toronto and solve the crime that ruined her life, she reluctantly agrees to investigate a murder in her home town of Penticton, only to discover the two cases which are separated by ten years and five provinces might somehow be connected. Will anyone believe the wild theories of the disgraced detective?
The real murderer does. He framed her once, this time Reggie Swann must die!
Canadian author, Wayne Kerr, was born and raised in the small town of Biggar, Saskatchewan (New York is big, but this is Biggar). He married his high school sweetheart, Marlene, thirty-nine years ago and has lived happily ever since. They resided in the United States for the past twenty years, but recently returned to Canada and now call the beautiful Okanagan region of British Columbia home. The writer honed his story-telling skills while keeping his five younger siblings and later his daughter entertained during long cold winters. When not reading or writing thrillers, Wayne is probably hiking, biking or playing tennis.
For more information on the author and his books please visit: waynekerrnovels.com or follow him on twitter: @waynekerrnovels
A job offer
“What do you think?” Erika asked, as I closed the binder.
“I don’t like your chances,” I told her truthfully. I glanced at the binder. The evidence was overwhelming. On the other hand, either the investigation hadn’t been very thorough or the Penticton PD hadn’t released all the files to the defense. If I had to guess, I’d pick the former. In a way, I couldn’t blame them. The public fight, the blood, the murder weapon and the boat all pointed directly at the husband. I mean, come on, who else would it be? They were certain they had their man. They most likely did.
“However,” I continued, offering a nugget of hope to the attorney, “if this had been my case I’d have had the entire Connelly neighborhood canvassed, as well as the marina. Someone might have noticed a stranger in the area, or at the very least, spotted a boat that size going out or returning after the body dump.”
“Alleged body dump,” Erika said. “It has been a week and they haven’t recovered a body.”
“It is a pretty big lake, perfect for hiding one,” I reminded her, certain that poor Amy was securely anchored somewhere on the bottom of Lake Okanagan. I’d done my due diligence for CAJE. The evidence was conclusive, in my opinion. Now I could focus on solving my own case and getting my old life back. I knew it wasn’t realistic, but I’d had this little fantasy play out in my mind over and over. I’d loved being Reggie McFarlane, extraordinary homicide detective and perfect wife. I imagined perp-walking the real killer into my old precinct. Then the Chief of Police offered me my old job and my ex-husband begged me to come home. We’d live happily ever after in our cute little townhouse. In my mind, I could still picture the furniture we’d picked out together. The curtains… Oh, and the lamps that I’d found in that little secondhand shop on 4th Avenue…
“Will you help me?” Erika asked, pulling me reluctantly back to the present.
“How?” Reality returned without mercy, as it usually did. I still had no idea who really killed Dr. Applegate or why they framed me for it, and the townhouse would be a little crowded these days, considering my ex had two kids with his new wife.
“I need an investigator,” she said.
“I don’t know of anybody here in town,” I answered. “Have you tried Kelowna?”
“I mean you,” she said. “I want you to investigate the Amy Connelly disappearance for us.”
“Me?” I laughed. “You don’t want me. I think he’s guilty.”
“You used to be a homicide detective, didn’t you?”
“I brought in a PI from Vancouver,” she told me. “He didn’t turn up anything useful.”
“Maybe there’s nothing to find,” I said.
“I need someone who will continue looking where the police left off,” Erika said, ignoring my statement.
“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be in town,” I told her, which was the truth. If I’d had any money, I would already be back in Toronto investigating my own case. Then I chuckled. “Besides I don’t like private investigators.”
“It pays $500 per day, plus expenses.”
I stopped laughing. “When do I start?”
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