The Return of the Fallen Angels Book Club (A Hollis Morgan Mystery 3) Read Free

house. She braced herself for disappointment.
    “Hollis, this is Gene.”
    She caught her breath. The voice from her not so distant past hit her like a rock.
    She stumbled a little. “Gene, wow, how are you? It’s been … gee, Gene … it’s been almost a year. What’s been going on?”
    Gene Donovan was indeed a voice from her past. He was one of the founding members of the Fallen Angels Book Club. She smiled, remembering Gene’s blond good looks and his love of manicures. A columnist for a local paper, he was gay, and at thirty-seven, the second oldest member in the club. Thanks to his brother, the owner of a local newspaper, Gene hadn’t had to worry about checking the felony conviction box on an employment application. Like her, he hated small talk.
    “I’ve got some bad news.”
    Hollis’ heart skipped a beat. Typical of Gene: no niceties, just cut to the chase.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “Jeffrey Wallace is dead.”
    Hollis leaned back in her chair. It was as if she was seeing herself from above and looking down. The shock was like a hole in her chest that didn’t show.
    Gene gave her a moment to absorb his words then continued, his voice subdued.
    “He was murdered, Hollis, in his office. Somebody shot him.”
    “No, it can’t be.” Hollis shook her head. “He was one of the good guys. He was ….” She choked back tears.
    Gene murmured, “I know. He might have been my parole officer, but he was also a friend.”
    “When did it happen?”
    “Last night. It came across the police log this morning, but I didn’t notice his name until a little while ago. I knew you would want to know and I still had your number.”
    “Did he suffer?” Hollis’ voice faltered.
    “I don’t have any details. I’ll call you back after … after I see what else I can find out.” Gene’s voice became firmer. “They don’t have any suspects. You know what I’m thinking?”
    “That no one knew Jeffrey better than we did. We owe him.” Hollis said in a steady low pitched voice, “We need to get the Fallen Angels back together.”
     
    After work that day, Hollis and Rena stood on the balcony of Rena’s condo overlooking the backyard and watching her six-year-old son Christopher play with Mark. Hollis could only imagine what it must be like to be a parent. She was relieved her own maternal instincts hadn’t surfaced.
    “I can’t believe someone would kill Jeffrey,” Rena said. She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.
    Hollis agreed. “Without his help, I wouldn’t have a pardon. I wouldn’t be an attorney.” She wasn’t the weepy type, but there was still an ache in her chest that wouldn’t go away.
    Jeffrey Wallace had been more than her parole officer, he’d been her mentor, and in some instances her guardian angel. If it weren’t for his strong letter of recommendation to the court, the judge wouldn’t have given her the second chance she needed.
    Rena nodded. “Without Jeffrey, I wouldn’t have met you in the book club and you wouldn’t have introduced me to Mark.” Her voice turned solemn, “And without Mark, I’d be lost.”
    “Speaking of the book club, I talked with Gene. I think we should call the group together again.”
    “Why?” Rena turned to face her. “We’re a book club. What could we do?”
    “If nothing else, say goodbye as a group.” Hollis looked away. “And maybe we could use our skills and resources to repay in part what we owe Jeffrey. He gave us our lives back. The least we can do is help find out who took his.”
    “I don’t know, Hollis.” Rena frowned. “As much as I adored Jeffrey, I don’t know if I should get involved.”
    “Should?” Hollis pressed.
    “I mean, I’ve moved on since my parole finished. I didn’t need to get a pardon like you. I didn’t need a state license to do my job.” She swallowed. “And I’ve got Christopher to think about. He takes up a lot of my time. And now I’m up for a promotion and—”
    “And who gave you the