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Markus and Angie are hired to find who murdered Simon Lamb, just hours after he auctioned off a 'questionable' rare painting. The case takes them, once again, into the world of art forgeries. And with million dollar reputations on the line, no one is safe when those reputations are in question.

The Journal

A Markus & Angie Mystery

Coming Soon

(A Working Cover)


"Reputation is an idle and most false imposition;
oft got without merit, and lost without deserving."


William Shakespeare - Othello


“You make rules for yourself but you know you'll need to break them from time to time, but you make them anyway. Two of the biggest constants in the world are greed and human stupidity. Both of which keep us employed.”

“That's kind of a bleak,” said Amanda.

I sighed.

“Maybe so," I said. "I try to keep an open mind, but the trouble with having an open mind, is that people will always want to fill it with their bullshit. I need to know every angle of a problem and how to work out a solution to it. But, with that being said, a lot of what I do is just a gut reaction.”

I turned west on seventeenth street and headed up the hill, turned left and pulled into Amanda's driveway. Angie pulled in next to us and got out.

No one made a run at us on our walk from the car to the house.

“I'll put on a pot of coffee,” said Amanda.

“Got any beer?” Said Angie.

“I got PBR.”

“In a can?”

“Yes,” said Amanda.

Angie smiled boldly and followed us in with a flaunting swagger.


In the back of Joe's warehouse, two men with guns under their jackets were staged on the dock. They watched as Angie and I pulled up and parked next to an empty trash dumpster.

As we walked up the steps to the dock one of the men gave me a nod and pointed with his thumb over his shoulder.

“Elevator's towards the back of the building,” he said.

I returned the nod. We headed towards the back and took the elevator to the top floor. The doors opened up to four men at a table playing cards. They all looked up at us in unison. All four had guns on the table. One of the men pointed down the hall. Angie and I both nodded and headed down the hallway where we met up with a tall man with a shotgun. He opened the door for us. We walked in. Amanda Clements and the Russian were sitting on the sofa together playing a shooting game on a big screen TV. Amanda was laughing and the Russian was shouting something in Russian at the screen.

She looked up at us.

“He can't beat me,” she said. Then she stood, walked over and gave me a hug.

“I've missed you,” she said.

“We need to talk,” I said.

The Russian gave me a nod, “She good Markus.”


Angie sat down on the sofa and continued beating the Russian in Amanda's place.

“How you holding up here?” I said.

“Just fine Markus. Everyone here is so friendly.”

“Everyone here are murderers and drug dealers,” I said.

“Well, maybe so,” she said, “but they've been nothing but hospitable with me.”

“Good,” I said. “Look, we need to discuss a few things. Is there someplace we can talk?”

“Ok, sure.”