Chutes and Ladder
A Silicon Valley Mystery Book 2
putting out the fire …
I raised a hand to stop the waitress. “Excuse me. I was wondering if you know someone named Fernando Hernandez?”
She froze, her smile immediately disappearing as her eyes widened and her mouth opened. “I’m sorry. I have to go.” She bolted back to the kitchen.
Skye looked at me. I could feel the eye roll getting queued up. “Why did you scare away the waitress?”
“I just asked her if she knew someone who your mom was going to talk to on Monday.”
Before Skye could reply, a stocky, older lady stalked out of the kitchen carrying an industrial-sized, wooden stirring spoon in her hand like a sword. She advanced on our table. In what felt like an instant, she stood in front of me with a stern look on her face and her weapon pointed right at my face.
“Why you talk about Señor Hernandez? You scare Gabriela.” She spoke with a thick accent.
Surprised, I was more than a little concerned that her stirring spoon might have a hidden sword blade ready to flick open. “I’m sorry. My sister, their mother, was going to meet Fernando Hernandez but she wasn’t able to keep her appointment because she got hurt.”
“She hurt? You should learn not to talk about him here.” She leaned in closer until I could smell the garlic on her breath. She lowered her voice as she spoke again in a voice roughened by smoking or, perhaps swordplay. “Do you want girls to get hurt, too?”
At this threat, the girls paled and huddled together. None of us had expected to be accosted by an intimidating chef wielding a scary wooden spoon with unknown, possibly dangerous properties that could hurt us.
I tried to keep my voice from squeaking. “I only wanted to find out if he was a frequent customer here or, maybe, owned the restaurant?”
“Stop foolish questions. You leave now and don’t come back.” Even though she spoke in a low voice, her command struck me like a blow.
Megan overcame her fear. “What? But, Uncle Marty … I like the black bean volcano.” Her voice came out with an odd combination of anger and whimper.
The chef calmed a bit as she glanced at the girls. “Girls. You come back another time. Maybe when your mother is better. Do not bring him.” She thrust the spoon at me to make sure everyone understood who she meant.
But, I liked the black bean volcano too.
Uncle and Ants
a clueless uncle catch a tech-savvy killer … and be home before bedtime?
Golden’s sister and condemns him to
babysitter duty, he thinks it’s just another case of hardwired bad
luck in Silicon Valley.
Until a suspicious murder suggests the mishap was no mere
coincidence. Something must be done.
uncle isn’t exactly hero material.
amateur sleuth follows clues to an
oddball array of suspects. Armed with nothing but an eye for detail
and powers of self-delusion, Marty
tangles with gangsters, a cantankerous school secretary, and a
perplexing woman he can’t help but fall for. Glitches in his
investigation seem like a piece of cake compared to dinner-prep and
bedtime stories with his two precocious, pre-teen nieces.
order before he gets unplugged?
a refreshingly modern mystery series set in Silicon Valley. If you
like clever humor, sassy side characters, and average Joes facing
extraordinary circumstances, then you’ll love this twisty mystery.
funny mystery today!
|Marc Jedel, Author|
Marc Jedel writes humorous murder mysteries. In his high-tech marketing
roles, he's also written fiction. These are just called emails, ads,
and marketing collateral.
In his family, Marc was born first — a fact his sister never lets him
life, he’s been inventing stories. Some, especially when he was
young, involved his sister as the villain. As his sister’s brother
for her entire life, he feels highly qualified to tell tales of the
evolving, quirky sibling relationship in the Silicon Valley Mystery series.
Family and friends would tell you that the protagonist in his stories, Marty
proudly resembles that remark.
Like Marty, Marc lives in San Jose, the heart of Silicon Valley, where he
truck. Unlike Marty, Marc has a wonderful wife and a neurotic but
sweet, small dog, who much prefers the walks resulting from writer’s
block than his writing.
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