Please meet Mystery/Suspense author Betty Sullivan LaPierre, a wonderful woman and a most exceptional writer. Author of the renowned ‘Hawkman Series. At this time 11 of her great novels are available at Amazon! Most known is her “Hawkman Series”, the first in the series titled “The Enemy Stalks”. Her latest release is titled “In for the Kill”. While you should not miss out on this one, you definitely should get yourself wrapped up in the entire series from the very beginning. However, which one of her novels you chose to start with, you won’t be disappointed! Of course Betty is not done with her writing endeavors and we can expect more thrills coming from her pen in the near future. Her work “Grave Web” is promised to be most thrilling and to keep you clinging to the edge of your seat. You can expect it to be available in the near future! (With a little luck even before Christmas!)
Visit Betty on MySpace!
As always, you can message the author directly for autographed copies of her work.
In For The Kill:
Paperback, 286 pages, $ 15.99 at Amazon
IN FOR THE KILL
Hawkman Series #9
When the answering machine boomed with an anonymous male voice asking for Jim Anderson, Jennifer stared at the phone in horror. Hawkman hadn't used his birth name since he'd disappeared from the Agency years ago.
A search ensued to find out who was leaving these threatening messages. After Hawkman's old boss gave him the name of Jack Hargrove, he wracked his memory and realized he'd never had any association with a man by this name.
The harassment escalated forcing Hawkman to confide in Ken and Peggy Bronson, the two local Sheriffs. They immediately tightened the protection around Tom Casey's home.
When the reports came in about Rita Rawlings being forced off the road, Hawkman's assault, his home set afire and a stolen jeep, the whole Siskiyou County law enforcement became involved. They proceeded with a search into the hills.
And what does a cat called Miss Marple have to do with this story? Read IN FOR THE KILL by Betty Sullivan La Pierre.
In for the Kill
by Betty Sullivan la Pierre
Jennifer sat at her computer, concentrating on the next book in her mystery series. When the phone rang, she let the answering machine pick up.
â€śThis call is for Jim Anderson. If youâ€™re there, please answer.â€ť
She immediately jumped to her feet with a pounding heart. No one had used Hawkmanâ€™s birth name since Dirk Henderson, the double agent who wanted to kill her husband several years ago. Trembling, she stared at the instrumentâ€™s blinking red light. This could be another nemesis out to get him.
After a slight pause, the voice said, â€śIâ€™ll call back later.â€ť
The click of the hang-up left her reeling. She paced the floor and ran trembling fingers through her short, curly brown hair. This would definitely upset Hawkman. When he quit the Agency, he dreaded the day when someone from his past would find him. After Dirk had been caught and put into prison, heâ€™d finally relaxed, figuring too much time had gone by now for him to be in danger.
Jennifer wrung her hands. Howâ€™d this person find our number? The telephone bill was in the name of Tom and Jennifer Casey. He obviously knew more about Hawkman than she cared to think about. The gnawing in her stomach told her she should call her husband right away. This man could be searching for him right now, and Hawkman needed to be on guard.
Jennifer picked up the phone and punched the number to his office.
â€śTom Casey, Private Investigator.â€ť
â€śHi, howâ€™s it going?â€ť
â€śJust fine. Donâ€™t tell me you forgot to add something to this long grocery list?â€ť
â€śNo, but I just received a phone call for Jim Anderson.â€ť
A silence hung over the line for several moments.
â€śWho was it?â€ť
â€śI donâ€™t know. I let it ring because I was busy and the machine took the message. He said heâ€™d call back.â€ť
â€śThis is very interesting. Thereâ€™s someone still out there looking for me. Maybe Iâ€™ll recognize the voice.â€ť
â€śItâ€™s possible; the recording is fairly clear. No voice changer. Do you want to hear it now?â€ť
â€śNo, Iâ€™ll wait until I get home.â€ť
â€śDo you think it could be just an old school buddy looking for you?â€ť
â€śHard to say. But I doubt it. Be sure to lock up and turn on the alarm after weâ€™ve talked. I donâ€™t want to scare you, but no sense in taking any chances.â€ť
â€śOkay. Honey, watch your back. And remember I love you.â€ť
â€śI love you, too. Iâ€™ll see you soon.â€ť
* * * *
Hawkman hung up and tapped the receiver with his finger. Itâ€™d been a long time since the name Jim Anderson had entered his mind. A part of his yesteryears had come to haunt him again.
He opened the desk drawer and withdrew his shoulder holster. Lately, the habit of wearing it had not seemed so urgent, but the phone call from Jennifer had changed his perspective. As he buckled the gun around his chest, he could feel the old lessons taught at the Agency moving forward in his brain like a back-up computer disc. He forced it open and let the information flow into his mind, so he could recap all his training and be prepared.
It worried him this person had called the house and not his office. It meant he knew Jim Anderson had an alias. The message struck fear into Hawkman when he thought about Jennifer being home alone. Shutting down the computer, he decided to leave. He wanted to hear the voice on the recording, and needed to discuss this situation with his wife.
He strolled over to the window, stood back, and surveyed the parking lot. All the vehicles looked empty, and no one appeared to be waiting to gun him down. But if this person had Agency experience, he could be parked down the street with a high-powered rifle and a pair of binoculars.
Hawkman took a deep breath, then exhaled loudly. Life had been mighty quiet and peaceful. He should have known it couldnâ€™t last forever. After unplugging the coffee pot, he stopped in his tracks when a knock sounded. He pulled his gun from the holster, moved to the side of the jamb, and flung open the door.
Hearing giggles, he glanced out in time to see two little girls running down the stairs, and turn the corner. He holstered his weapon, stepped forward and almost kicked over a covered basket sitting on the top step, but grabbed the handle before it tumbled down the stairs. A small beige and white head with sharp blue eyes peeked out from under the checkered cloth.
â€śWhat the heck!â€ť Hawkman said, carrying the container to his desk.
When he pulled the cloth back, a well-fed kitten rolled onto its back and playfully swatted at the corner of the towel. Hawkman noticed a card attached to the side with a blue ribbon. He laughed when the cat batted at his fingers as he pulled the bow loose and opened the envelope.
â€śHey, hold on a minute, you little critter. Letâ€™s see what youâ€™re all about.â€ť
In appreciation for all youâ€™ve done for my family. She will give you hours of pleasure.
God Bless, Marie and Girls
Hawkman put the note away, pushed back his hat, and eyed the young animal. â€śI must say, youâ€™re one cutie. But I donâ€™t know any Marie or the story behind you. Iâ€™m sure your new mistress will know what this is all about. At least, youâ€™ll give her something to think on besides a sniper.â€ť
He picked up the basket and headed down the stairs to his vehicle parked in the alley. After sliding it onto the passenger seat, and closing the door, he lifted the hood to assure himself no one had tampered with the engine. Confident everything appeared okay, he climbed into the driverâ€™s side and drove to the pet shop.
When he placed the container on the counter and the little kitten poked out her head from under the cloth, the cashier called the other employees. â€śCome look at this darling Ragdoll.â€ť
Everyone gathered around touching, and handling the cat.
Hawkman stepped back and rubbed his mustache. â€śHuh, I just need some food and a couple of toys. I have no idea what she eats.â€ť
One of the girls glanced up at him. â€śWhere did you get this precious thing?â€ť
â€śA gift from Marie.â€ť
She rolled her eyes. â€śOh, youâ€™re so lucky. Her cats are the best in the world.â€ť
Hawkman looked puzzled. â€śDoes she raise them?â€ť
The young lady stepped back in awe. â€śYes, didnâ€™t you know? Sheâ€™s the greatest Ragdoll breeder around; known all over the country.â€ť
He shrugged. â€śIâ€™m not into felines, this is my wifeâ€™s deal. The animal is for her.â€ť
â€śOh, sheâ€™s just going to love it.â€ť
He soon edged his way out the door trying to hold the cat in the basket with a bag of food and toys under his arm. â€śI think youâ€™ve excited my pet.â€ť
They all laughed and gave him a wave as he struggled toward the SUV.
He sat the cat on the passenger seat, then took the newly bought food and two bowls from the sack. Setting the containers on the inside floorboard, he poured a little water from his own bottle into one, then sprinkled some food into the other. Gently lifting the cat out of the basket, he placed her next to them. While she lapped up the liquid and ate a hefty amount of the dry crunchies, Hawkman scrutinized the area. He found nothing to cause suspicion, so climbed into the driverâ€™s side and waited for the cat to finish. When she started to preen herself, he picked up the animal and gently placed her into the basket.
â€śOkay, girl, we havenâ€™t got all day. Weâ€™re heading to Copco Lake and you can take care of your personal hygiene when we arrive home.â€ť
On their way, Hawkman had a time keeping the little tiger from climbing out onto the seat, and ended up steering most of the way with one hand while rubbing her back with the other.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he drove into the garage. â€śOkay, wiggle worm, you ready to meet your new mistress?â€ť He gently lifted the receptacle and carried it to the entry. He found the door locked and the alarm system set. So, he placed the basket between his feet, punched in the code and stepped into the house, then tried to grab the animal as she leaped from her confines.
Jennifer turned the corner just as a streak flashed across the living room floor.
â€śOh, my gosh, what was that?â€ť
â€śA bag full of energy for you, from Marie.â€ť
She clamped both hands over her mouth as she stared at two big blue eyes looking out from behind the chair. â€śSheâ€™s beautiful!â€ť
He frowned. â€śYou act like you were expecting this little bundle of dynamite.â€ť
Reaching down and picking up the ball of fur, she nodded. â€śYes, but I didnâ€™t know when. And I didnâ€™t think itâ€™d be you whoâ€™d have the honor of bringing her home. I wanted it to be a surprise.â€ť
He plopped the basket on the counter. â€śDonâ€™t be disappointed. It took me totally off guard, and this little beast definitely kept my mind off snipers or someone stalking me.â€ť
A guilty smile twitched the corners of her mouth. â€śGood timing.â€ť
â€śThe employees at the pet shop went bonkers over the sight of this creature.â€ť
â€śI can imagine. Marieâ€™s Ragdoll cats have the reputation of being the most beautiful in the area.â€ť
â€śI want to hear the whole story. But first, Iâ€™ll bring in the food and stuff I bought for the new member of our family.â€ť
Once Hawkman deposited the items on the counter, Jennifer fussed over where she should put the litter box and then produced a good sized wicker pet bed sheâ€™d somehow stored away without his ever seeing it. She placed it in the corner near the fireplace.
The little cat had not let Jennifer out of her sight since sheâ€™d arrived and acted like she understood her instructions. Hawkman shook his head and meandered over to the phone. Staring at the flashing red button, he finally punched it and listened to the message.
Jennifer glanced at him when it finished. â€śDo you recognize the voice?â€ť
â€śI pray itâ€™s not Dirk.â€ť
â€śWe donâ€™t have to worry about him. Heâ€™s in prison for the rest of his life, unless someone killed him. Iâ€™ll ask Bill when I call.â€ť
â€śYouâ€™re going to call Bill Broadwell, your old boss?â€ť
â€śYou believe itâ€™s someone from your Agency years?â€ť
â€śIâ€™m highly suspicious, because of his using the name, Jim Anderson. Weâ€™ll see if he calls back. Screen the calls if Iâ€™m not here, and donâ€™t answer if you donâ€™t recognize the caller. I want you to keep the alarm on at all times and get your gun ready. Weâ€™ll go out and do some practicing within the next day or two.â€ť
Jennifer stared at him with fear in her eyes. â€śYouâ€™re serious arenâ€™t you?â€ť
Pimp My Profile ----
Angels in Disguise:
Paperback, 296 pages, 12.47 at Amazon
A P.I., his wife, cancer, a missing mother and a little girl kidnapped. You’ll see a side of Hawkman never revealed in this powerful novel. Two stories entwined in such a way, you’ll find yourself crying and cringing at the same time. Your heart will go out to Hawkman as he struggles with his emotions and tries to concentrate on the case handed to him by a distraught father. Hawkman has reservations about a unique grandmother who reads strange books, and a butcher’s daughter who keeps him in turmoil. Romance, hate, frustration and many more emotions keep you turning the pages. Pick up your copy of ANGELS IN DISGUISE by Betty Sullivan La Pierre, and find out what it’s all about. Pimp My Profile
After testifying on a client’s behalf, Hawkman left the courthouse around noon and decided to stop by Togo’s. He ordered a large pastrami and soda to go. Carrying his food in a sack, he jumped into his 4X4 and drove toward the office. The tantalizing aroma swirled around his nose, causing his foot to push heavily against the accelerator. His stomach growled as he parked in the alley behind his office. He jumped out of the SUV and headed up the stairs, but hesitated for a moment and admired the new shingle attached at the top of the stairwell: Tom Casey, Private Investigator. Smiling to himself, he hurried up the steps to his small cubicle above the doughnut shop. His mouth watering, he settled at the desk, pulled the waxed paper away from the delicacy, and directed it toward his mouth. But before he could take a bite, someone knocked at the door.
“Come in,” he called, and rolled the sandwich back into the wrapping.
A man, appearing to be in his mid-thirties, dressed in a dark gray business suit, stepped into the office. He had a clean shaven face, square jaw, deep blue eyes, and dark brown hair tinged with gray at the temples. When he approached the desk, his gaze drifted to the food Hawkman had pushed aside.
“Looks like I’ve caught you in the middle of lunch.”
“No problem, it can wait. Have a seat,” Hawkman said, gesturing toward the chair in front of the desk. “How can I help you?”
He held out his hand. “My name’s Paul Ryan, Mr. Casey. You were referred to me by a friend at the office. I need someone to help me find my wife.”
After they shook, Paul sat down and let out an audible sigh.
“You sound a bit frustrated. How long has she been missing?”
“Going on four days. We’re separated right now, and my mother called to tell me Carlotta hadn’t picked up our daughter and she’d been at her home since Friday. She tried to call my wife numerous times, but didn’t get an answer.”
“Did you check the house?”
“Yes. The newspapers were scattered all over the yard. And inside, the mail had piled high under the door slot. It looked like nothing had been touched. I felt disgusted at her irresponsibility for leaving our child with my mother for so long without notifying either of us.”
“What about your wife’s parents?”
“Killed in a car accident years ago.”
“Sisters or brothers?”
“None. She was an only child.”
“Have you filed a missing person’s report?”
Paul shook his head. “No, I didn’t want to feel like a fool if she showed up after a swinging time with some boyfriend she’d picked up.”
“Have you checked the hospitals or called the police to make sure she wasn’t involved in an accident?”
“Yes. She hasn’t been admitted for emergency care and the officer I talked with said they had no record of her being in any accidents.”
Hawkman raised a hand. “Before we go on, if you want me to take this case, I require a down payment. Then I’ll give you a weekly accounting of my expenses.”
Paul nodded and removed his checkbook from the breast pocket of his suit. “Will a thousand dollars get you started?”
“That will be ample.”
He peeled off the check and handed it to Hawkman. “I appreciate you taking this on.”
Hawkman took a large yellow tablet from the drawer. “Okay, first of all, let’s go through some routine questions. Then I’ll need more personal information about your wife. To begin, give me both your full names.”
“Paul Lee Ryan and Carlotta Ann Ryan.”
After asking several questions, Hawkman flipped over the sheet, then glanced at Paul. “Okay, before we go into more particulars on your wife, I want you to file a missing person’s report on her as soon as you leave here. She’s been gone long enough; the police won’t question the time.”
“Okay, I’ll do that first thing. Is there anything else I need to do as far as police paperwork is concerned?”
“Not at the moment. I’ll let you know as time goes by. What’s your daughter’s name and how old is she?”
“Tiffany Lynn and she’s ten.”
“Do you have any pictures?”
Paul dug out his billfold and handed him a photo of Carlotta and Tiffany. “This is a recent snapshot of them together.”
“Mind if I make a copy?”
“Not at all.”
Hawkman studied the images as he strolled over to the copy machine. “Nice looking girls you have there.”
“Thanks. I wish I could classify us as a family, but I’m afraid things just aren’t working out.”
He gave the original back to Paul and placed the copy on his desk. “Okay, let’s dig into your life a little deeper. How long have you been married? And when did the problems begin?”
“We’ve been married almost eleven years and I thought things were going real well until two years ago when Carlotta told me she was sick of our humdrum life. She said we had no excitement left and things were boring as hell. I told her to get more involved with Tiffany at school. She’d roll her eyes and tell me I could drop that suggestion into the garbage can.”
“When did you separate and where is she living?
“She threw me out about a year ago, and I moved into a two bedroom apartment. Carlotta still lives at our original house with our daughter.”
“Give me the address.” Hawkman jotted it down, then glanced at Paul. “Do you think she had a lover on the side around then?”
“I’m not sure, but more than likely she’s got guys coming and going now. That’s why I didn’t want to report her missing just yet.” He grimaced. “But I will.”
Hawkman leaned back in his chair. “Do you suspect she could’ve met with foul play?”
Paul shook his head. “I haven’t the vaguest idea.”
“Tell me a little about your mother. Does she take care of your daughter often?”
“Yes, and even when it’s my turn to have Tiffany and I get called into work, Mom will come over to my place to watch her. In fact, I didn’t even know she had Tiffany this past weekend until she called.”
“What does your dad think about this arrangement?”
“Mom’s been widowed for years.”
“Sorry. Does she like Carlotta?”
“Unfortunately, no. But she adores Tiffany.”
Hawkman raised a brow. “Why doesn’t she care for your wife?”
Paul sighed. “From the first day we were married, Mother showed her disapproval in several different ways.”
“She picks on Carlotta constantly about how she dresses, and handles herself in front of Tiffany. My wife wears sexy clothes which Mother disapproves of vehemently.” He chuckled. “Mom preaches to her that married woman don’t go flaunting their boobs and legs in public places.”
Hawkman glanced at the picture on the desk. “Carlotta appears to be quite a beautiful woman. And it looks like Tiffany is following in her footsteps. However, your daughter looks quite a bit older than ten years.”
Paul nodded. “Yes, I know, and Carlotta doesn’t put any restrictions on how she dresses, and allows her to wear make-up. This angers my Mom to no end.”
“Tell me again about this last weekend when your mother was watching your daughter.”
“Carlotta dropped Tiffany off at Mom’s on Friday afternoon after school, and said she’d pick her up Sunday evening. Here it is Tuesday and there’s been no word from her. Mother tried contacting Carlotta several times, as I said, and even drove by the house, but never caught her home.”
“Does your wife have a car? And if so, what kind?”
“Yes, a Camry and it’s in the garage. That’s the first thing I checked. It gave me a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach to think she’s out with some guy living it up.”
“Well, you can’t be sure, so don’t jump to any conclusions yet. She could have gone out of town with girlfriends. Tell me a little more about your mother and where she lives.”
Paul gave him her address. “She’s a great grandma and has always been very attentive to Tiffany. The child adores her and the feeling is mutual.”
“Did Tiffany say anything about her mother’s whereabouts?”
“No. She just said Carlotta told her she’d be staying with her grandma for a few days.”
“Would you mind if I questioned your daughter?”
“No, not at all.”
“I’d also like to make a visit to your wife’s house. You obviously have a key. How about taking me over there this evening after you get off work.”
“Sure, I’ll drop by Mom’s and pick up Tiffany as I’m sure she’ll want to get some extra clothes or more of her personal stuff. I’ll meet you there, say around six o’clock.”
“Okay, that sounds good. Tell your mother not to be alarmed if a guy with a cowboy hat and an eye-patch comes snooping around asking questions.”
Paul scooted back the chair and stood. “I’ll do that.”
Hawkman stood. “I may need more information as the investigation proceeds. But right now, I think I have enough to tackle the case.”
“Thanks for taking it on. I’m sure you’ll do whatever’s necessary to find out what’s happened to Carlotta.”
After Mr. Ryan left, Hawkman wrapped his sandwich in a napkin and put it into the small microwave Jennifer had insisted he get for the office. Times like this he blessed her many times for this convenience. He sat down with the warmed food and glanced through his notes as he munched. Very peculiar case. Looked like a communication channel never developed between Paul and his wife. He hoped Carlotta would turn up alive and well. It bothered him to think she might have met with foul play. He’d talk to the neighbors, then search through her phone and credit card bills. Maybe he could pick those up when he met Paul at the house this evening. He needed to get a feel as to what type of woman Carlotta Ryan might be.
click on banner to visit Betty's site
The links below take you directly to Betty'sbooks where you can compare prices and decide whether you want print or downloads.Buy Now at AMAZON.COM