ABOUT THE BOOK
A missing husband. A suspicious obituary. She’s not the only one hunting down a dead man’s footsteps.As a divorcee, Angelina Bonaparte knows firsthand the lengths some men will go to escape responsibility. When a worried mother wants the private investigator to track down her missing husband, she’s eager to bring the deadbeat dad to justice. But even after she discovers the man’s obituary, she refuses to believe it until she sees the body. Tracking down the nurse who last saw him alive could be the missing puzzle piece to her client's broken family.
But as she digs deeper, she realizes there’s something darker at play than dodging child support payments. And she may not be the only one hunting the man down. To close the case and reunite her client's family, she must track down the missing husband without falling prey to the same ruthless hunter.
Honor Kills is the third book in the captivating Angelina Bonaparte Mysteries series. If you like bold female detectives, edge-of-your-seat suspense, and unexpected twists, then you’ll love Nanci Rathbun’s gripping novel.
Book Details
Title: Honor Kills
Author: Nanci Rathbun
Genre: Mystery/Suspense
Series: Angelina Bonaparte Mysteries, book 3
Publisher: Dark Chocolate Press LLC (May 1, 2018)
Page count: 284
On tour with: Great Escapes Book Tours
INTERVIEW WITH NANCI RATHBUN
Nanci, tell us about your series. Is this book a standalone, or do readers need to read the series in order?
Honor Kills is the third book in the Angelina Bonaparte Mysteries series. It can be read as a standalone without having read the first two. That’s not just my opinion–reviewers have commented to that effect.
Where did you grow up?
I’m an Army brat, so I grew up all over the US and the world. My sister and I were born in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, but my dad’s posting took us on an overseas trip to Germany. I can’t remember that time, but my mom told me that I learned to speak English with a German accent.
From there, we moved to Orleans, France, where we lived from the time I was six until I turned ten. I have fond memories of French bread and can still sing the French national anthem, La Marseillaise, in French. That’s about the extent of what I remember of learning the language, though.
We returned to the States from there, to an assignment at Fort Sheridan, Illinois. That was a fairly upper-class area, and I definitely felt like an outsider, since living on a Sergeant First Class’s income didn’t quite measure up to my classmates standards.
After eighteen months, we went to Seoul, Korea. Unfortunately, we were pretty isolated from Korean culture and life while stationed in there. I got little chance to see how the life or learn the language there.
Then my mom, my sister, and I moved back to Milwaukee to care for my grandfather, who died a couple of years later. Meanwhile, my dad developed severe heart disease and retired from the Service. My wandering youthful days ended in Milwaukee, where Dad joined us after mustering out.
What’s your favorite memory?
The memories I’m making with my granddaughters are the most precious to me. Holding each girl in my arms, watching them take their first steps, and now hearing them shout ‘Nana’ when I come in the door are sweet, indeed.
If you had an extra $100 a week to spend on yourself, what would you buy?
Books. A meal with my sister. An occasional pedi. Movies with my granddaughters.
What’s the most valuable thing you’ve learned?
That you don’t need to be perfect. Sometimes, just showing up and giving your best is all that’s needed.
What do you love about where you live?
Northern Colorado has so much natural beauty, that outdoor life is lived to its fullest here. I especially appreciate the arts communities in Fort Collins and Loveland, with their abundance of opportunities for writers to connect. And I love the seasons here. Winters are much kinder than in Wisconsin!
What is the most daring thing you've done?
Taking early retirement from a very well-paying but stressful IT job to pursue ministry and writing.
What’s one thing that you wish you knew as a teenager that you know now?
That I should force myself out of my introvert shell a little and that others weren’t really as focused on me and my failings as I thought.
What makes you bored?
Having nothing to engage my mind. I make it a point to have an ebook and a print book on hand whenever I go out.
What is your most embarrassing moment?
My first job after high school was as a payroll clerk for the local phone company. At lunch on my first day, I tipped a bowl of chili all over myself in the cafeteria line. Mortified!
If someone gave you $5,000 and said you must solve a problem, what would you do with the money?
I’d contribute to clean water initiatives in Africa.
What makes you nervous?
Medical checkups.
What makes you happy?
My family.
What makes you scared?
School shootings, especially now that my older two granddaughters are in grade school.
What makes you excited?
Reading a review by someone who loves my book.
What are your most cherished mementoes?
Because we moved so much in my childhood, my mom kept few mementoes. I love the photographs I have from those years and from my parents’ youths.
If you could only save one thing from your house, what would it be?
Family pictures.
Would you rather be a lonely genius, or a sociable idiot?
I’d have to vote for lonely genius, since I can’t imagine being an idiot, and because my introverted self can deal with solitude and not feel lonely.
What’s one of your favorite quotes?
“Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.” – Oscar Wilde
What’s your favorite line from a book?
Gandalf to Frodo: “All you have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to you." – The Fellowship of the Ring
Where is your favorite library, and what do you love about it?
The main Milwaukee Public Library stands on Wisconsin Avenue, with two huge stone lions guarding well-worn steps. Inside, the marble floors and staircases give it a stately, formal feel. As a girl in late grade school, it was my first taste of the wonders of a large, well-organized library. I spent many a Saturday browsing the stacks and using the card catalog–yes, I’m that old! I found some favorite writers there: Elizabeth Peters and her neighbor on the shelf, Ellis Peters, and Ngaio Marsh, to name a few. It was a wonderland to me.
What are you working on now?
I’m starting work on the fourth Angelina Bonaparte Mystery, with a working title of Art Kills.
EXCERPT FROM HONOR KILLS
One
PI Angie and her intern, Bobbie Russell, need to access information at the nursing facility where Hank Wagner died. They’re undercover outside, waiting for the on-duty aide to move away from the entry area.Padua Manor’s parking area held a beat-up Chevy Silverado. I pointed and whispered, “One person on duty.” Bobbie acknowledged with a nod.
The Manor’s windows were black, save for one. The bluish-white flickering of a fluorescent tube escaped from between the slats of its partially closed blinds, casting alternating stripes on the patio. I spotted movement inside.
I sat back on my heels, glad that the slats angled slightly downward, allowing me to see into the room. A man wearing scrubs filled a coffee cup and walked over to a brown vinyl sofa. I tugged on Bobbie’s arm and he joined me near the ground.
“We’ll have to wait until he leaves the room.” I spoke in low tones.
Bobbie’s only response was “Crap” as he settled on the cold concrete. The next ninety minutes were an eternity in the bitter January cold. The aide refilled his cup, he took a sandwich from the small fridge and ate it, he plugged coins into a vending machine and devoured a Snickers bar, he flung a magazine to the floor and settled on the couch again, covering his upper body with a coat. He tossed, he turned, he adjusted himself, but he never left the blasted room!
My mind wandered to Wukowski. How did he stand up under frigid surveillance conditions? Or did he have someone less senior take care of the routine work? I doubted it. He valued control far too much.
That led me to consider how Wukowski would view this venture. Of course, what we were about to do was illegal—if we ever got inside, that is. But was it wrong? By my standards, we were searching for the truth in a situation filled with lies. I saw no conflict with my own ethical code, as long as we did nothing to harm an innocent person.
Bobbie tapped my hand and motioned for me to follow him. Staying in the shadows, we slipped to the other side of the apartment building. I started when Bobbie wrapped me in an embrace, but he leaned down and whispered, “We’re lovers, remember?”
“We’re going to be frozen popsicles if that guy doesn’t move. When in blazes does he check the residents?”
“My guess,” Bobbie said, “is right before the morning shift is due. We can’t wait that long, Angie. Our only hope of getting inside is if he leaves the room. We need Augusta.”
The finality of his tone penetrated my cold-induced stupor. “You’re right,” I told him. “Even if one of us creates a diversion, he might not hear it from the breakroom. It’ll have to be Augusta.” Within the shelter of Bobbie’s parka, I pulled up her number in my Contacts list and placed the call.
She answered after three rings. “Terry?” Her voice wavered.
“That’s right,” I said, happy that she remembered to use my pseudonym. “Are you all right? It’s awfully late for you to pick up so quickly.”
“It’s Myrna. She’s having a bad night. I’m in her room. It calms her.”
“Augusta, I need your help for a minute or two. No longer, I promise.”
“I wouldn’t want to leave the Manor. I’m in my nightclothes. Perhaps we can meet tomorrow.”
“It isn’t a meeting that I need tonight. Can you rouse the aide on duty and get him out of the break room? Maybe make him come down the hall to see if Myrna needs medication.”
“She probably does, poor thing, but the doctor refuses to prescribe. Benadryl is all they give her, to make her sleepy. I can ask for that.”
“Would you, please?”
“Of course. Can you tell me why?”
“Not now, but I will, I promise. As soon as I can. Meanwhile, the less you know, the less involved you’ll be.”
“You just leave it to me. I’ll keep him down here for at least five minutes, more if I can.”
“You’re a dear. I’ll call you tomorrow.” If I’m not in jail.
We returned to our observation corner. Within seconds, Augusta steamed into the room, clad in an ankle-length, deep purple, quilted robe and matching quilted slippers. We watched as she stood, hands on hips, then finger pointing out the door, then hand tugging the man’s sleeve as she bent down to chastise him.
Afraid for her safety—she was petite and fragile, one push would send her to the floor—I held my breath until he levered himself up and slowly moved to follow her. As they disappeared from view, Bobbie and I sprinted to the card reader on the outside wall. The battery was more than an inch away when we heard a satisfying click and the lock disengaged.
OTHER BOOKS IN THE SERIES:
Truth Kills – Angelina Bonaparte Mysteries #1
Amazon Kindle | Amazon print | Audible audiobook
Cash Kills – Angelina Bonaparte Mysteries #2
Amazon Kindle | Amazon print | Audible audiobook
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Connect with Nanci:
Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads
Buy the book:
Amazon | Barnes & Noble