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eBook Category: Mystery/Crime
eBook Description: Lt. Tom Gilbreath, who is called "the old hound dog" behind his back, is the one who often delivers bad news. He is soon to receive some of his own. His wife, Marlene, often knows as much about what is going on with the Rocky Bluff P.D. as her husband, and she knows even more about the other officers' private lives. Officer Joe Guzzo has a perfect wife and a wandering eye. A knock-out, Officer Georgia Lindquist captures the interest of all the single guys in the department and the notice of the married ones. Two murders bring chaos to the beach community of Rocky Bluff and keep Lt. Gilbreath busy as he faces a crisis of his own.

eBook Publisher: The Fiction Works, Published: http://www.fictionworks.com, 2004
Fictionwise Release Date: July 2004

This eBook is part of the following series:

• F. M. Meredith's Rocky Bluff P.D. Series

5 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: eReader (PDB) [189 KB] , ePub (EPUB) [188 KB] , Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [154 KB] , Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [928 KB] , Palm Doc (PDB) [172 KB] , Microsoft Reader (LIT) [185 KB] , Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [209 KB] , hiebook (KML) [417 KB] , Sony Reader (LRF) [258 KB] , iSilo (PDB) [141 KB] , Mobipocket (PRC) [177 KB] , Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [222 KB] , OEBFF Format (IMP) [232 KB]
Words: 50527
Reading time: 144-202 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

"Ms. Meredith has another winner on her hands with Bad Tidings. Her talent to create engaging characters and taut, dramatic plots is evident in this 'must read' novel."--Roberta Austin, All About Murder and Murder and Mayhem.

"...a wonderful, cleverly crafted novel that depicts the entire spectrum of human nature and characteristics--love, loyalty, sorrow, dishonesty, doubt, and inward feelings of self-fulfillment--all in one book, with a happy ending."--Shirley Cheng, author of Daring Quests of Mystics

"From the disruptive ring of the telephone on a romantic evening at home, Bad Tidings takes us through the days and nights of a cop's life. Author F.M. Meredith drops plenty of clues and red herrings to keep us guessing, as officers of the Rocky Bluff PD work through family problems, plus a rash of crimes that include a suspicious traffic accident, the murder of a cranky old lady, and a shocking deth involving one of their own. I loved it!"--Pat Browning, author of Full Circle

Tuesday, 11:30 p.m.

Pillowy, sweet-scented flesh enveloped him. Tender, familiar lips moved against his and passion overwhelmed him. Tom Gilbreath's adoration for his wife nearly burst his heart. But the shrill ring of the telephone shattered the fervor of the moment.

"Don't answer it," Marlene pleaded, clinging to him fiercely.

Sighing, Tom picked up the receiver. "Lt. Gilbreath here."

"There's been a fatal accident out on Pipkin's Road."

The voice belonged to Doug Milligan, a young police officer whom Tom knew to be conscientious and observant. Milligan wouldn't call Gilbreath, a homicide detective, about an ordinary death due to a car accident. "And?" Tom prompted.

Milligan sounded apologetic but anxious. "Could you come out here, Lieutenant? There's something peculiar about the victim's body."

"Sure. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"You've got to be kidding." Marlene groaned and rolled her considerable bulk onto her side of the bed.

Tom leaned over and kissed his wife's pouting lips. "Sorry, but you know how it is."

"Certainly do ... it happens often enough." She pulled the covers over her head.

Tom grinned. She'd be fast asleep before he even left the house.

Though he grumbled to himself about the interrupted lovemaking, it didn't prevent him from dressing quickly and rushing to the location of the smoldering wreckage of a late model Lincoln Continental. As he climbed from his car, Tom surveyed the scene.

A wet ocean fog swirled and mingled with the gray-black smoke as the yellow-coated fireman sprayed the last of their chemicals on the blackened vehicle. The whirling red lights of the fire engine, the blue and red lights atop the two Rocky Bluff police units, and the flashing amber light of a waiting ambulance illuminated the area with an eerie, albeit colorful, glow. The crumpled front end of the Lincoln butted against the shaggy trunk of one of many eucalyptus trees lining the old ranch road.

As Tom neared the wreck, he could see the personalized license plates on the rear of the car. Undamaged by the flames that had charred the front three-fourths of the vehicle, the letters and numbers could be easily read. "GRAN 4." Speculating on the significance, Tom wondered if it might stand for grandparent of four, or maybe it had an entirely different meaning such as an abbreviation for grand or grandiose.

Officer Milligan, tall, dark-haired and mustached, rushed over to him and shook his hand. "Lt. Gilbreath, glad you came. I wouldn't let them remove the body until you had a chance to see it. Maybe I'm wrong but ... take a look for yourself."

The driver's door had been pried open. Without touching anything, Tom bent over and peered inside the dark interior. He sniffed, expecting the odor of burned upholstery, foam rubber, and roasted flesh. But he was surprised by an underlying chemical smell. The charred corpse, its skull caved in, slumped over the steering wheel. A gold wedding ring banded a blackened finger, a digital watch circled the left wrist. Tom, using his handkerchief, removed the jewelry, wrapped it carefully, and dropped the small bundle into the pocket of his old sweater.

"Okay, guys." Tom motioned to the waiting ambulance attendants. "You can take the body now, but how about delivering it to the coroner's office in Ventura?" There wasn't anyone authorized to do an autopsy in the small southern California beach community of Rocky Bluff.

"Sure thing, Lieutenant," one of the gray garbed men answered as he approached the vehicle with a gurney and a plastic body sack.

"I want the car gone over inch-by-inch," Tom added.

Milligan grinned broadly, emphasizing the dimples in his tanned cheeks. "Yes, sir."

Tom fumbled in the other pocket of his sweater for his pipe and tobacco pouch. After completing the ritual of filling and lighting the pipe, he puffed on it absently while walking to the edge of the field. Poking at the heavy growth of weeds with the toe of his shoe, he said to Milligan who hovered near his elbow, "Almost anything could be hidden along here. Make a search, you just might get lucky and find something interesting."

Milligan seemed so young and wide awake, contrasting with Tom's own fifty plus years and sleepiness. "You're thinking what I am, I'm sure; possibly a staged accident."

Grinning again, Milligan's dark brown mustache contrasted with his white teeth. "What about the driver?"

"I suspect the victim was dead long before the car ever crashed into the tree. After we get the results of the autopsy ... along with anything interesting you come up with ... maybe we'll be on our way to finding out some of the answers."

"We'll make a careful search of the area and I'll have a full report on your desk in the morning." Milligan hurried away to pass along instructions to the other police officer.

There was no need to hang around any longer; Tom knew Milligan would do a good job. The young officer's love for his job had been a big factor in his recent divorce. Tom grinned. He was quite aware the men would openly grumble about the extra work once he was gone. Tom also knew that behind his back, most of the men on the department called him "The Old Hound Dog," a nickname he prized. He'd come by it partly because of the way he looked--his wrinkled brown face with sagging bags under sad eyes did resemble a hound dog. He hoped the name also reflected his bloodhound tenacity when he worked on a case.

Tom returned to his bed kept cozily warm by his wife.