Title: High Time
Series: The Solomon Mysteries, Book Two
Author: Keelan Ellis
Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC
Release Date: September 10, 2018
Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 55400
Genre: Contemporary Crime, contemporary, police/detectives/law enforcement, crime procedural, family drama
Synopsis
When skeletal remains turn up in
Baltimore’s Leakin Park, Detective Paul Solomon is pessimistic about their
chances of solving the case. But a clue discovered near the bones soon leaves
his partner, Tim Cullen, in little doubt as to their identity. As the case
leads him close to home, Tim struggles to find a balance between professional
responsibility and family, testing Paul’s patience and loyalty in the process.
In his personal life, Paul wrestles with
his own increasingly precarious balancing act. His friendship with David
Haygood threatens his new relationship with Owen, and he finds himself
questioning not only his own judgment but his motivations as well. When Paul
makes a choice that may irreparably damage his budding romance, the only person
he can think to turn to is his ex-lover and friend Andy.
As Paul and Tim sift through details of the
short life of a young woman who died over a quarter of a century ago, what
eventually emerges from the web of connections and coincidence is a story
that’s both shocking and sadly familiar to the seasoned detectives.
REVIEW
My Rating - 4 Stars!
I would have liked to see some romance in this story, but alas, this one was all about the mystery. It doesn't take away from the fact that it's well written, has a great pace, and will keep you intrigued throughout.
High Time is definitely worth a read for anyone who loves a good mystery.
Excerpt
High Time
Keelan Ellis © 2018
All Rights Reserved
Chapter One
“It’s huge,” Paul said. “Won’t it be too
much for the space?”
“No, the simplicity of it will keep it
from overwhelming. I think it might even make the room seem bigger.”
It was a chilly Sunday in March, and
Owen had dragged Paul to the studio of a friend of his from his art school
days, promising to find him something to put on the large expanse of blank wall
in his apartment. Paul wasn’t sure he really cared, but he knew it was the kind
of thing that bothered other people. He liked having art on the walls and
furniture that looked nice, but he wasn’t gifted with an eye for any of that.
His ex-boyfriend Andy had handled all that stuff for eight years, and now he
had Owen to help him with it.
Paul had been dating Owen for almost
four months. It worked out pretty well because Owen worked in a bar and usually
had to be there until the end of the night. It was a relief for Paul not to
feel guilty when work kept him late. Sometimes Owen would knock on his door at
two or three in the morning, and Paul would stumble out of bed to let him in.
He sometimes thought, in that sleep deprived state, that maybe he should just
give him a key. That idea rarely made it to the light of day.
“Can I even afford it?” Paul asked.
“Well, what else do you spend your money
on?” He eyed Paul up and down in a conspicuously critical way. “Not clothes,
that’s for sure.”
“Ha,” Paul said, rolling his eyes.
“Your apartment is a one bedroom on the
second floor, next to a house full of stoners in Charles Village. Come on,
Paul. Be an adult and buy some art.”
“Yeah, well…” Paul stopped himself
before he could say something he’d regret. It was kind of ironic to hear Owen
telling him to grow up, but it wasn’t worth getting into. “Never mind. Fine.
You’re right, I should spend money on something real.”
“Great!” Owen pulled Paul over to his
friend Ara and helped him work out the details. When she went to wrap up the
painting, Owen said, “Don’t think I don’t know what you were going to say
before, by the way.”
“What are you talking about?” Paul asked
innocently.
Owen smiled and shook his head. “I don’t
want an argument. I just want you to know that I know.”
Paul studied his face for a moment. He
didn’t look pissed. He looked a little bit smug, but that was fine. “I don’t
want an argument either,” Paul said. He snaked an arm around Owen’s waist and
pulled him tight to his side. “I still need you to hang this picture for me.”
“I understand,” Owen said. “I have a few
requests myself that I hoped you could help me with.”
“Will I need a hammer?” Paul asked,
grinning.
“Always.”
Once Owen had the picture up, Paul had
to admit it improved the look of his modest apartment quite a bit.
“Thanks for doing that,” Paul said.
Owen shrugged. “No big deal. It looks
great, don’t you think?”
“Yeah. Thanks for picking it out for
me.” Paul put his arms around Owen’s shoulders. “We should go out for dinner.
Anywhere you want.”
“I kind of want to just stay in tonight.
Would you mind? We could just order food and find something on streaming.”
After a pause that went on slightly too
long, Paul said, “Uh, yeah. Sure.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Paul said, shaking his head.
“Sorry. I was just thinking of where we should order from. You want Indian
food?”
With a slight frown, Owen said, “Sure,
that sounds good. Do you have a menu?”
Paul wasn’t sure what had shown on his
face that caused Owen to react, but there’d been a second when Paul felt a
twinge of panic. It made no rational sense. Staying in and ordering dinner was
exactly the kind of thing Paul usually wanted. His job was tiring, and he
didn’t like crowds. But coming from Owen, for some reason, it bothered him, and
Paul knew it was unfair.
“I’ll go get it,” Paul said. “You pick out
something on Netflix.”
Paul put his unease aside. They watched
an entire season of Luther, which Paul loved. He assumed it was as full of
inaccuracies as most American police dramas, but because it was English, he
wasn’t clear enough on the details of their system to be annoyed by it. Plus,
Idris Elba. Owen ended up falling asleep with his head on Paul’s leg by the
end. It was as domestic as any evening he’d ever spent with Andy, but instead
of making him feel content and comfortable, he only felt restless. He prodded
Owen awake and got him into bed.
It was still dark out when Paul was
awoken by the phone in the middle of a confusing dream in which he was at a
baseball game at Camden Yards with his dad, while somehow simultaneously on the
field, playing shortstop for the Blue Jays. His dad was rooting against
Toronto, of course, but every time he made a play or got a hit, his dad would
say, “That’s okay, son, I love you no matter what.” Not the most subtle dream
he’d ever had.
He groped for his phone on the
nightstand and picked up. “Solomon.”
It was his boss, Lieutenant Cherise
Masters. “I’m sorry to call you so early. I need you to meet Tim and the
forensic team at a scene in Leakin Park. I’ll text you the coordinates.”
“Someone dumped a body?”
“You must be psychic, Solomon. Buried
it, actually, and a long time ago by all accounts. Pretty much just bones at
this point.”
Paul sat up and put his feet on the
floor. “Wait. Bones? Seriously? You’re calling me in early on some cold case
whodunit?”
Masters was silent, no doubt in an
effort to intimidate him. Paul waited her out, and she finally sighed in
resignation. “Human remains were found by a couple of guys with a podcast who
are apparently doing a series of episodes on the so-called ‘bodies of Leakin
Park’.”
“You have got to be shitting me.”
“The last thing we need is another
goddamn Serial situation. It has to be done properly.”
“Yeah,” Paul said. “I’m on my way.” He
hung up and looked over at Owen.
“You have to go right now?” Owen
mumbled.
“Yeah, sorry. I hate to do this to you,
but you have to get up. I’ll drop you off at home.” Paul pushed the hair out of
Owen’s face and gave him a kiss.
Owen stretched and then burrowed further
into the blankets. “I don’t have to work until four. I’ll just hang around and
take the bus from here.”
“That would be fine, except you won’t be
able to lock the deadbolt when you leave. Come on, get dressed.”
“Don’t you have an extra key?” Owen
asked.
“No,” Paul lied. “I’m sorry.”
It was obvious Owen wasn’t buying it. He
narrowed his eyes and said, “You said that already.”
Paul looked at him and realized that
some kind of fight was brewing, and it wasn’t one he particularly wanted to
have at the moment. Things between him and Owen had been great, for the most part,
but that was going to change if they had to have the relationship conversation.
It wasn’t a question Paul was in any way ready to answer. Regardless, he didn’t
have time for it. He had to get to a crime scene. “I really need to get going.
Can we do this later?”
“We could, but we probably won’t,” Owen
grumbled. Still, he got out of bed and pulled his clothes on.
The silent ride from Charles Village to
Mount Vernon was mercifully short, and when they pulled up in front of Owen’s
building, Paul grabbed his wrist before he could get out. “Hey,” he said, “I
don’t want to be in a fight with you.”
Owen sighed. “We’re not in a fight,
Paul. You just hurt my feelings. I feel like you don’t trust me in your place.”
“It’s not that,” Paul said. “Look, it’s
early. We’re both not in the best of moods. Can we do this later?”
“Sure.”
“I had a nice time yesterday. Thanks for
helping me with the painting. It looks great in my apartment, and there’s no
way I could have picked it out myself.”
Owen smiled. “I had fun too.”
“Are we okay?” Paul asked.
Owen leaned over and kissed him. “More
or less,” he said. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” He got out and walked into his
building.
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Meet the Author
Keelan Ellis is an author of romance and detective fiction, who is always seeking to expand her literary horizons. She is a lover of music and food, and has an intense love/hate relationship with politics. Her stories reflect her passions.
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