So Much Going On – Part Three a Tracy Gayle Mystery By Trish Hubschman

So Much Going On – Part Three a Tracy Gayle Mystery By Trish Hubschman

So Much Going On – Part Three a Tracy Gayle Mystery

By Trish Hubschman

Tracy Gayle

I called Danny while I was driving to Catherine’s. He sounded bright and chipper. “Hey babe, get this, Jim and his wife and Ricky are coming out here. Think they’re too wired up after here months in Europe, they can’t just stop and do nothing now,” Danny said. “Same with me.” He snickered. “Got to make music.”

Jim Crown and Ricky TraPP WERE FELLOW TIDALWAVE band MEMBERS. Jim was on second lead guitar. Ricky played base.

“What about Liz and Mike?” I asked. ‘Do you think they’ll come to Pennsylvania?”

Liz was Danny’s daughter by his second wife, talk show hostess, Blair Nelson. Liz’s husband, mike Carson, played keyboards for the band.

“They’re in New York doing their time with the Dragon Lady,” Danny guffawed. “Blaire says I monopolize our daughter and granddaughter. I do,” he admitted. “But that’s life and divorce. Anyway, I’m sure they’ll come down for a weekend now and then.” He smacked his lips together. “What to do about Tony, right?” he said. Tony Miller was Tidalwave’s drummer. “I doubt he’ll separate himself for his new lady love and she doesn’t like the band.” He truly sounded chagrined by hat. “I’m sure I can find a temporary FILL-IN drummer around her.”

I was proud of him. “That’s my Danny,” I cheered. I was smiling.

“When are you coming home? I miss my lady,” he said.

I felt all warm. What Danny said made me feel good. “Soon, possibly tomorrow,” I said.

“Canyou really solve one that fast?” he asked, sounding very confused.

I laughed. “It’s not that kind of case, love. This is a Missing Persons. We’re trying to find Carl Gibbons. He’s a Person of Interest to the FBI right now in the Raymond Henderson shooting.” I explained what I’d found out since I’d arrived a few hours ago.

“I remember the guy,” Danny said. “Vicki was living with him. He robbed her mother’s house, then got put away for it.”

“Something like that, yes,” I agreed. “And he might land up behind bars again,”

Danny read my thoughts. “The law is the law. It’s not our job to judge it, but to abide by it. That’s what you always say.”

I bust into laughter. “True, but I never said that, Johnson did.” I was sniffing back tears. I changed the subject. “How’s the rebuilding of your Mayberry going?”

Danny sniffed. “No too much going on yet.

We’re mostly waiting for the permits to come through so we can build. But what we can do of date, McAllister says is going relatively well.”

I caught it. “Relatively?” I asked. “What does that mean?”

Danny snickered. “Just some small mishaps, tools missing, building materials mislaid, a few minor accidents of workers. McAllister says that’s all normal with construction jobs.”

“For all jobs,” I added. “I’ll check things out when I get home, make sure we don’t have anyone trying to sabotage your show.”

“I knew I could count on my girl,” Danny teased.

I pulled up in front of Catherine’s house and had to say goodbye to Danny. Catherine Texted me that she had left the back door unlocked, so I could get in. I didn’t feel entirely comfortable with leaving doors unlocked, for me or not. I got out of the rental car, slung my overnight bag on my shoulder, then patted my jacket pocket to make sure my gun was there. It was.

I slipped around to the back of the house and had my hand on the door know, about to turn it when I realized I was nervous. I felt like a criminal breaking into someone[‘s home. I almost laughed out loud at that thought. Composing myself, I went inside. The house was quiet and dim, but of course it would be. I dropped my satchel by the doorway and moved to the living room. I peaked in and listened. No sounds. I went to the other side of the kitchen and opened the basement door. It was totally dark down there, but quiet. I closed that door and released a breath. I giggled, then went to the counter and started preparing a pot of coffee and two turkey sandwiches.

I was sitting at the kitchen table tapping notes onto my i-pad regarding this case, when the front door opened. “Tracy?” Catherine called out.

“Holster your weapon, special agent,” I called back teasing. “It is me.”

She came into the room, giggling. “Just making sure ,’ she said, going to the back door , opening it, locking the storm door on the other side, then closed the heavy door and locked it. “Just being careful,” she added. We both burst into laughter. “You made coffee? Yum.”

“And a turkey sandwich too,” I said. She settled at the table. I got up to fetch the coffee pot and poured us both a cup. “What makes the FBI think Vicki’s former boyfriend, Carl Gibbons, was on the scene that night?” I asked. “Was there trace evidence? was there an eye witness?”

She shook her head. “Just simple logic, common sense, and we can’t come up with anything else,” she said. She was serious. “Honestly, we have to start somewhere and Gibbons seems to be our best vet.”

She had a point. I sucked in my breath. “What is the FBI going to do with him when they find him?” I dared. “Is he being arrested?”

Catherine took a bite of her sandwich, chewed a few times, pushed it to the side of her mouth, then spoke. “Nort by the FBI. We just want to question him, find out what happened that night, then he’s free to go. We can close the case neat and tidy.” She swiped her hands together.

I think I rolled my eyes. Somehow, it was never that easy. “I hope it works out that way,” I said dryly.

She smiled and took another bite of her sandwich, never breaking eye contact with me. “If you know where he is, Tracy, or have any info on this case, please tell me now.”

I was quick to shake my head. “I don’t, though I may have an idea,” I dropped. Her eyes widened. “Did you check the apartment he and Vicki were sharing in town?” she looked at me oddly. I chuckled. “No, I’m not talking about the garage at her mother’s house. Carl and Vicki and the kids had the ground floor apartment in someone’s house. Wait a second. Let me find the address.” I brought it up on my i-pad and turned the screen to face her. She pulled out her cell phone and keyed the address in. “I was with her when the policed searched that apartment for stolen goods,” I went on. “Vicki was scared, Catherine, and after all that’s happened, I’m sure she’s even more so. Don’t push her too much. DON’T BE too ROUGH ON HER. If she knows where Carl is, she’ll come forward, or maybe not.’

Catherine’s face was expressionless. She nodded.

We finished eating and washed the dishes and put them away, then we relocated to the dining room to play backgammon and continue talking. It was ten o’clock when we finally rose and said our good nights. Catherine went upstairs, shutting off lights as she went. I chose the downstairs guest room. I sat on the bed staring at my phone, wondering if I should call Danny. I knew the King would still be awake. I just wanted to hear his voice and say good night. I decided to do just that, but first, I got up, pulled my pajamas out of my overnight bag and donned them. I raced into the bathroom and brushed my teeth, came back to the bedroom. I pulled back the covers and crawled in. My phone was in my hand. I fell asleep that way.

. .

To be continued

AD: Uneasy Tides
By Trish Hubschman

The photo shows a foreboding seascape, with a cloudy sky, rocky beach, and rushing tide. The colors are gray, blue-gray, black, white, and dark brown. The title letters, at the top, are in red. Below the main title, the subtitle letters are in white. The author’s name is at the bottom of the cover, also in white. To the lower left, superimposed on the seascape, is a red and black electric guitar. It symbolizes Danny Tide and his band, Tidalwave.

C 2021 / Number four in the Tracy Gayle mystery series

$3.99 in e-book / $8.50 in paperback / 149 pages in print

Cover image, synopsis, author bio, direct buying links, and information about Trish’s previous three books can be found here.


Blair wants Danny to get her an interview with his first wife’s present husband, Robert Taylor. He’s the CEO of a major computer software company. Danny reluctantly says he’ll see what he can do. He and Tracy go to the Taylor residence for a Christmas party. Danny hasn’t seen his first wife, Deb, in over 30 years. She sucks up to him.

At the party, Deb is drunk and disappears with her husband’s business partner. Her son from her second marriage, Darren, isn’t present. Her daughter Lily is flirting with a young man. Becca, Deb’s daughter with her third husband, a musician, is sincerely excited about Danny’s presence.

Danny and Tracy feel out of sorts and by midnight are ready to leave, but they have to find Deb to say good night. It’s then that mayhem breaks out. Becca summons them down to the pool area. Her mother is passed out on the cement, bruises on her face and arms. Two men are pulling Robert Taylor’s body out of the pool.

Deb is the most likely suspect, but she insists she didn’t do it. Danny’s older brother, Derek, a prominent attorney, takes her case. If Deb didn’t kill her husband, who did? There were so many possible suspects at the party.

About Trish Hubschman:

Trish Hubschman is the author of the Tracy Gayle mystery series: Tidalwave, Stiff Competition, Ratings Game, Uneasy Tides, and Gayle’s tales.

Trish is a graduate of Long Island University’s Southampton Campus and has a Bachelor’s degree in English-writing. She is deaf-blind and lives in Pennsylvania with her husband Kevin and their dog, Henry.

Visit her website.

Email Trish at:


One Comment

  1. Trish Hubschman Reply
    August 26, 2023

    Therfe’s one more part to this storyu. I myself lvoe this story.It’s mystery and romance.

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