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A violent storm has raced through South Carolina knocking down trees and power lines, flooding streets and stranding motorist. After driving through much of this storm, all Nola Dean Buckingham wants to do is get inside her Myrtle Beach condo and go to bed. Instead, because of a power outage in the area, she has to feel her way inside in the dark condo where she stumbles over a dead body. Before she has time to react, she is attacked and chloroformed and when she awakens, the body is gone and there is no sign that it has ever been in her condo. When the TV’s noon report carries a story about a dead man being discovered on the beach, Nola Dean is plunged into searching for the killer with handsome Police Detective, Joe Randell.
EXCERPT
She bowed her head and thanked God she'd made it when she pulled into the parking lot under the oceanfront condo building in Cherry Grove and put her car in her allotted space. She was exhausted. There was no way she could unload the car tonight, so she made quick choices as to what to carry inside. Of course she had to take Bubbles in the cat carrier. She put Maxie on his leash because he was going for a quick walk before going inside the condo. She wasn't coming back out with him tonight. She got the small sack of groceries, her purse, and her make-up case. She then opened the glove compartment to get her flashlight. It wasn't there.
"Oh, no." She gasped. "I remember I took it in the house to put in new batteries. I bet I left it on the kitchen counter."
She had no other choice. She'd have to go up to her sixth floor condo in the dark. Opening the car door, she looked around while the inside car light was still on. When she saw nothing else she locked the car and walked to the edge of the garage so Maxie could do his business.
She stood under the building as he sniffed around the grassy area. Finally he lifted his leg. When he finished, he wanted to pull her along for a walk, but she jerked the leash and headed him inside.
Of course the elevator wasn't working. She gritted her teeth and headed up the stairs.
"Don't complain," she told herself. "You're the one who wanted to get to the beach tonight."
"Yeah," she answered herself. "But how was I to know there would be no lights and no elevator?"
It was as dark as she'd ever seen and the thought flashed across her mind that a fiction writer would have a great setting for a mystery story. A lot of books she'd read had had the preverbal dark and stormy night in them. If there had ever been a dark and stormy night, this was it.
"The reader just goes along for the ride as the suspects are identified and eliminated one by one. But not even the ones eliminated from being this particular murderer are all truly innocent. The author did an excellent job of narrowing down the suspects, giving the reader ample opportunity to guess who the murderer is, without giving it away before the end. No cheating, no deliberate false leads. It's a mystery that gives you a fair chance at working it out yourself. Very well done..."
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