A 1920s Cozy Mystery Adventure

The NightingaleDetective Agency

A Charlotte Van Elsberg Mystery Book 1

by Denise Devine

Genre: 1920’s Historical Cozy Mystery

St. Paul,1926—where ambition comes at a cost, especially for a woman.

Charlotte Van Elsberg is determined to become the city’s first female privateinvestigator and help women in need. She’s already landed her first case: agrieving mother who wants answers about her daughter, Eleanor Kimball, adebutante killed in a suspicious car crash. Was it truly an accident orsomething more sinister? Char intends to find out. There’s just onehitch—Char’s husband.

Will Van Elsberg, a seasoned investigator, knows the job too well. It’s noprofession for a petite young lady, and he’s not about to let his wife chargeheadfirst into danger. Char has other ideas. She agrees to hire bodyguards tosatisfy his objections.

However, despite the addition of her “new team,” she soon learns that this jobis a lot harder than it appears. Doors slam in her face, alibis don’t add up,and everyone appears to be hiding something. Does she have the gritand determination it takes to solve this case?

The more she digs into Eleanor’s carefully polished life, the more she uncoversthe young woman’s secrets. Hidden truths that someone is desperate to keepburied. Evidence worth killing for. Now that Char is asking questions, who isdetermined to stop her from revealing the missing pieces?

If you love Prohibition-era intrigueand twisty whodunits, dive into this 1920s cozy mystery filled with cleverclues, hidden secrets, and a bold female sleuth. Grab your copy today and startsleuthing!

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“Robert can’t know about this,”Marjorie said in a low, cautious tone. “He believes Eleanor’s death was anaccident and he considers the matter closed. Any attempt to dig up newinformation will cause doubt and suspicion, casting a blight on our reputation.”

“I can be very discreet,” Iassured her. “Besides, a woman asking questions isn’t going to cause concernlike it would if a man began poking around.”

Marjorie scrutinized me with acritical eye. “If I decide to retain your services, what assurances do I havethat you’re trustworthy? I’ve never heard of you. Are you affiliated withPinkerton?”

“No, but I do have experience inhandling all manner of issues, and I have great counsel,” I replied, wishingI’d already chosen a name for my agency. At times like this, having anofficial-sounding name made me appear more professional. “My husband is also aprivate detective. His reputation is impeccable.”

Marjorie’s amber eyes lit up withcuriosity. “Is that so? Perhaps I should hire him.”

“He’s overloaded with cases rightnow,” Ethel said, injecting herself into the conversation. “He shares an officewith an attorney, Peter Garrett, and he works almost exclusively with Peter’sclients. Willard has needed their services a few times with real estate deals.”

“But can a woman be aseffective?” Marjorie asked, her eyes shadowed with lingering doubt.

Keeping my expression neutral, Irefused to let my disappointment show. I’d expected men to doubt my competence,but not another woman. “I will get answers for you,” I said firmly, my voicesteady with resolve. “Give me a week. If I haven’t reached a breakthrough bythen, our agreement is off, and you owe me nothing. Fair enough?”

A tall, gray-haired man wearing adark tweed suit appeared in the window, scrutinizing us with narrowed eyes.

“What a wonderful garden youhave, Marjorie,” Ethel said loudly and turned her back to the window.

Marjorie glanced back at thewindow and turned away quickly as well, confirming to me that the man inquestion was her husband, Robert. “My gardener came highly recommended,” shereplied in a nervous, high-pitched voice. “You’ll have to come back in Aprilwhen my spring perennials are in full bloom. Perhaps we’ll have luncheon, then,too.”

Ethel smiled conspiratorially asthe three of us made our way toward her black limousine. “So, the agenda is setthen? Charlotte will meet with you again in a few days to go over the specificsof the garden club’s next outing.”

Marjorie held off answering untilwe reached the car and out of the earshot of her husband. “All right,” she saidto me. “I’ll meet with you again a week from today, but at nine o’clock whenRobert is golfing. In the meantime, you are not to call my house under anycircumstances. Is that clear? Robert must not get wind of what I’m doing, orhe’ll be upset.”

“Yes, I understand,” I repliedwith a nod. “I’ll meet you here next Thursday at nine o’clock to give you allof the information I’ve acquired.”

Marjorie engulfed Ethel with ahug. “Have a safe drive home.”

I slid into the car with sweatypalms and a stomach churning with anxiety as Marjorie walked swiftly toward thehouse. I’d just promised to give her the information she so desperately neededin seven days. What possessed me to make such an outrageous claim?

I didn’t care about themoney. I had exactly one week to prove I was worth the trust she’d placed inme—or be finished as an investigator.

Denise Devine is a USA Today bestselling authorwho has had a passion for books since the second grade when she discoveredLittle House on the Prairie by Laura Ingalls Wilder. She wrote her first book,a mystery, at age thirteen and has been writing ever since. She loves allanimals, especially dogs, cats, and horses, and they often find their way intoher books.

She has written twenty-two books, including booksin the Beach Brides series, Moonshine Madness series, and West Loon Bay series.Her books have hit the Top 100 Bestseller list on Amazon and she has beenlisted on Amazon’s Top 100 Authors.

 

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