Music City Mysteries
There’s no harmony in Nashville when a renowned sound engineer comes up missing and a record label exec’s home is firebombed. Cafton Merriepennie’s record label is in chaos, his top act is on tour, and an unidentified psychopath has him in his sights. When the cops start sniffing up the wrong tree, Cafton has to take charge and become a sleuth to save himself and the people he loves. But it’s too late for someone close to him, and others are perilously close to the brink of disaster.
He knew by experience this was not a random murder. It was obviously premeditated. And deeply personal, deeply unhinged, so to speak. What bothered Ketchum the most was not that this man lost his life. His death was a done deal and he was not suffering, but the realization that the person who did this was out there among everyone else weighed on him.
Once people had crossed certain psychological lines, like cold-blooded murder, like hands-on, up-close-and-personal, gory, bloody murder, they lost all boundaries. Now anything was possible for them. Now they knew what they were capable of, and they had absolutely nothing to lose if they did it again. They were a hand grenade with a very loose pin to anyone within shrapnel range.
That’s why Ketchum felt a special, urgent need to crack this case as soon as possible. He started reviewing the other evidence. The unnerved krewe member who found the head had given a statement, but it didn’t shed much light on the investigation: “I went to the warehouse this morning around seven to look for my wallet. As soon as I opened the door I smelled something God awful. I started looking around on the float for my wallet and heard buzzing and saw a lot of flies swarming around a big ol’ whiskey barrel we use for candy to throw. I went over and peeked in. At the bottom of the barrel is a head. A human head. A stinking head. The source of the stench. At first, I thought it was a part of the float. Like one of the ornament figures had lost its head. I went to pick it up and it was real. It was heavy and the flies and stink told me it wasn’t just part of the float. I dropped it and went running out and jumped in my car, and went back home, and called the cops. I didn’t want to be there with that. I still don’t have my wallet, but I ain’t going back there again. That’s all I know. Cashion Boudreau.”