Snitch

  Praise for

  Snitch

  “A wonderful, fully developed ensemble cast makes Snitch an entertaining, engaging read. Rene’s flair for a comedic, well-turned phrase shines here. Snitch is worth snatching.”

  —SUSAN MEISSNER, author of Widows and Orphans

  “Snitch is an engaging crime novel, balanced between sheer whimsy and genuine human drama.”

  —CHRIS WELL, author of Tribulation House

  Praise for Scoop,

  book one of

  The Occupational Hazards Series

  “… deserves being read out loud to a significant other who can laugh and cry along with you. Highly recommended.”

  —ChristianFictionReview.com

  “This is a rollicking evangelical ride through the television news world, reminding readers why Gutteridge is such a delightful read.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “The writing is excellent, the action is fast-paced (not a single slow paragraph!), and I was honestly challenged by Hayden’s upfront, candid faith. A fantastic book—I can’t wait to read more of Rene’s work!”

  —ALISON STROBEL, author of Violette Between and Worlds Collide

  “One of the funniest Christian novels ever.”

  —Booklist

  “I saw your novel, Scoop, at the library, picked it up, and read it in two days. I loved it, every single word of it.”

  —JO-ANN

  “I just finished Scoop and loved it! I’m pulling for Occupational Hazards Series sequels. Please keep them coming!”

  —DAVE

  “Best book I’ve read all year—and I’ve read a lot! It just hit all the right notes.”

  —JASON

  “Just finished Scoop and absolutely loved it. I can’t wait for more in the series.”

  —KARLA

  NOVELS BY RENE GUTTERIDGE

  The Occupational Hazards Series

  Scoop

  Snitch

  The Boo Series

  Boo

  Boo Who

  Boo Hiss

  My Life as a Doormat

  The Storm Series

  The Splitting Storm

  Storm Gathering

  Storm Surge

  For Brian Worel,

  a gifted actor who has brought many

  of my characters to life right before my eyes.

  HAZARD

  PERCY MITCHELL HAZARD was born January 7, 1940, in Dallas, Texas, and passed away June 8 at the age of 65. He was born to Gordon and Ethel Hazard and raised in Austin, Texas. He was baptized at the age of fourteen at Christ the Lord Church. He married Lucy Boyd in 1962, and shortly thereafter moved to Piano. He worked as the manager of a feed store for two years before becoming a computer manager at the unemployment office. A dedicated and hard worker, he spent twenty-eight years of his life there until he was replaced by a computer and became unemployed. Determined to provide for his family, he and Lucy started their own successful clown business, The Hazard Clowns, entertaining children and adults alike. Many people knew him only as Hobo, but his family and friends knew him as a loving and kind man, full of wisdom and laughter. He is survived by his children: Mitchell, 26, married to Claire; Cassie, 24; Hank, 23; Mackenzie, 22; Hayden, 20; Avery, 18; Holt, 16. He will be greatly missed, but is now safely in the hands of his loving Father in heaven. Funeral services will be at Chapel Christian Church on Tuesday at 10:00 A.M.

  HAZARD

  LUCILLE “LUCY” MARGARET BOYD HAZARD was born February 15, 1945, in St. Louis, Missouri, to Gilbert Boyd, a pastor, and Wanda, a homemaker. She was raised in Louisville, Kentucky, where she spent most of her life until her family moved to Austin, Texas, where she met and married her husband, Percy. She had a long and distinguished career as Inspector 49 at Hanes until 1992, when the company was forced to downsize to 42 inspectors. As her husband lost his job three weeks earlier, they decided to start a clown business. Along with running The Hazard Clowns, this special woman homeschooled all seven of her beloved children. She went to be with her Lord on June 8. She is survived by her children: Mitchell, 26, married to Claire; Cassie, 24; Hank, 23; Mackenzie, 22; Hayden, 20; Avery, 18; Holt, 16. She died happily alongside her husband and will be laid to rest next to him at Resurrection Cemetery. She will be greatly missed by her family who adored and loved her. Funeral services are Tuesday at 10:00 a.m. at Chapel Christian Church.

  Chapter 1

  Mack Hazard stood near her parents’ coffins. Though side by side, they seemed too far apart. Her hand glided across the marbled texture that swirled over each top, but she kept her attention on the approaching crowd. Without fail, each person reached out to touch the caskets. Mack grew rigid every time it happened, but took a cue from her oldest brother, Mitch, and tried to seem courteous.

  Mitch shook hands and patted backs, reassuring everyone at the graveside that things would be okay. Except he hadn’t reassured Mack. He had called a family meeting for later. Maybe the reassurance would come then.

  Mack tried to ignore her sister Cassie, who continued to wail louder than a windstorm. Thankfully, that meant Cassie attracted most of the hugs.

  Hank stood by a tree he’d retreated to after the service, tracing the grass with his toe. She could see his solemn features, and she swallowed to hold back tears. Cassie was crying enough for everyone.

  Mack looked through the crowd to find Hayden, her younger sister by two years. Of her six siblings, she was closest to Hayden, and being separated from her now caused a strange tickle of panic.

  Suddenly, two arms reached from behind and pulled her into a hug. Mack’s first instinct was to body slam the owner of the arms—she didn’t like hugs, and she detested anyone grabbing her from behind. But after all, this was her parents’ funeral. It had always bothered her mom that she was so physical. After one brutal game of Thanksgiving flag football, Mack answered her mother’s worries with, “Then you shouldn’t have had any boys.” Her mother replied, “Go get an ice pack for your brothers forehead.”

  Mack pulled forward, causing the arms to release. She turned around, forcing a smile. When she saw Cassie, she dropped the smile. “You know I hate that,” Mack said.

  “You should try it,” Cassie said. “It brings out your eyes.”

  “I’m talking about the hug.”

  “Oh. I thought you were talking about my mascara.”

  “That’s kind of tacky, isn’t it?”

  “Blue is tacky. Black is classic.”

  “I mean wearing it at all. Mom wouldn’t approve.”

  Cassie glanced at the coffin beside them, and tears rolled down her face. “If you must know,” she said between sobs, “Mom once told me it looked nice, but that it would put Dad in the grave if he ever saw me wearing it.”

  Mack gestured to the other coffin. “Well, he’s right here.”

  “Our parents are dead and all you can complain about is my mascara?” She blotted her eyes.

  Mack sighed. “I’m going to check on Hank.”

  “You should try crying,” Cassie said. “It’ll make you feel better.”

  “No, it won’t.”

  “How would you know? You never cry.”

  “That’s because it never makes me feel better.” Mack left Cassie and approached Hank, who now fiddled with a piece of bark.

  “Did Mitch tell you about the meeting?” Mack asked.

  Hank didn’t look up. “Yes.”

  “What do you think it’s about?”

  “It’s what families do when their parents die. They have meetings.”

  “We already had two meetings. One at the coroner’s and one at the funeral home.”

  “Maybe he’s going to reveal a deep, dark family secret.”

  Mack offered a wry grin at Hank’s statement. She was the only sibling who app
reciated his dry sense of humor.

  “Oh no,” Mack said suddenly.

  “What?”

  But Mack was already elbowing through the crowd toward Hayden. She could only see half of Hayden’s face—the other half was blocked by weird old Mr. Stewart, who had the breath of a man expired twice over.

  “Excuse me,” Mack said, squeezing through a circle of well-wishers. “I’m sorry,” she said as she pushed through another cluster. She touched Hayden’s shoulder. “Mr. Stewart,” Mack said, “I’m sorry, but we have to go. We’re having a family meeting.”

  “A family meeting? About what?” Hayden asked.

  “I’ll tell you on the way,” Mack whispered and headed toward the car.

  Mr. Stewart wasn’t easily thwarted and he followed behind, hammering them with one question after another. He was a nosy man, too, a character trait his DNA seemed to anticipate by placing a large mole at the tip of his nose. Mack opened the door for Hayden, nearly pushing her in, and closed it. She turned around and was nearly bowled over by his breath.

  “Mackenzie,” he began. Mack bristled. She hated being called Mackenzie. No one in her family dared to use her full name. Her parents had taught her to be kind and courteous to those who didn’t know her well, but Mack’s idea of kind and courteous was letting Mr. Stewart keep the blood inside his nose. “I am one of your company’s best clients.”

  It was true. Mr. Stewart hired more clowns in a year than a circus used in a lifetime, which was exactly why Mack kept a very close watch on him. There was something odd about a person who liked clowns that much. She should know. Her parents’ clown company had been successful, and Mack, like all the Hazard kids, had been a clown since she was young.

  Mr. Stewart peered at her. “I demand to know what’s going on. First of all, were your parents murdered?”

  Mack clenched her fists behind her back. “Why would you think they were murdered?”

  “The rumor is that they went to Las Vegas for their vacation, and we all know what kind of city that is.”

  “Mr. Stewart, they were not murdered. It was just an unfortunate incident.”

  “Incident? Accident? What?”

  Mack glanced at her sister, who offered a feeble smile. If Hayden hadn’t been nearby, this would be the moment for Mack to take things to an entirely new level. But Hayden didn’t like violence and would probably faint if Mack got aggressive.

  “Well?” Mr. Stewart asked.

  “Look, we don’t really understand it ourselves,” Mack said through clenched teeth. “But it boils down to an overly ambitious serenading guitar player, a hundred-foot extension cord, and a rack of mood lighting.” She felt no need to mention the hot tub.

  Mr. Stewart’s jaw dropped. Mack shook his hand and said, “We’ll talk soon.” That’s what her father used to say, and he meant it literally. For Mack, it meant Mr. Stewart would not end the afternoon prostrate on the grass.

  She walked around to the driver’s side door while Mr. Stewart continued blabbing his concerns and Hayden tried to answer him with kindness. Mack didn’t wait for the conversation to end before she pulled away from the curb.

  As she rolled down her window for some much-needed fresh air, she got the feeling that the family meeting hadn’t been scheduled just so they could trade more condolences.

  Her instincts proved right. Mitch stood in front of the family in their parents’ living room and announced the sale of their clown company to Clowns Inc. As a result, every Hazard would receive enough money to go to college if they wanted to, and to start a new life.

  Hayden bolted from the room in tears, and the rest of the family didn’t seem to be taking it much better. Mack spent half an hour in the backyard calming Hayden, reassuring her that everything would be okay, and then she went back inside to see how the rest of her siblings were coping.

  Cassie was crying on Claire’s shoulder. Mitch had mentioned Claire’s pregnancy along with the announcement of the sale, but the news that they were all going to be aunts and uncles wasn’t the main topic of conversation. Mack lingered by the mantel looking at family photos until Cassie went into the kitchen, then approached Claire.

  “Congratulations,” Mack said.

  Claire looked surprised. She touched her belly and smiled. “Thanks, Mack.”

  “I always thought it would be great to be an aunt. Mom’s sister, Aunt Nell, was fun. Every summer we would spend a week at her house. Some of my best memories …” Nell died a few years ago, and Mack still felt the hole in her heart.

  “I told Mitch not to announce the pregnancy today, but he wanted everyone to know. He kept calling it a sign of hope, a sign that life was going on.” She shrugged. “I just didn’t think it was a good time.”

  Mack glanced at all the somber faces. “We’ll look a whole lot more excited once the shock wears off. The shock about the company, I mean. This is a lot for everyone to take.”

  “You don’t look upset,” Claire said.

  “I’m learning to control my anger.”

  “Oh. Well, uh, good. What will you do now that you’re no longer a clown?”

  Mack smiled. She knew exactly what she would do.

  Chapter 2

  Five Years Later

  Laura Gates hunched over the bowl of cocktail peanuts, her fingers toying with them, rubbing their skins off just for something to do. The noise of the bar couldn’t drown out her elation. This was a big day.

  “Captain Gates?”

  Laura looked over to see Mack Hazard sliding onto the stool next to her. She wiped the salt off her fingers and offered a hand. “Hello, Mack.”

  “It’s been a while,” Mack said, her nearly constant smile still in place. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m captain of property crimes these days. I’m dodging egos instead of bullets.”

  Mack laughed. “Both can be bloody. Congratulations.”

  “Not my dream job, but I can’t complain.” She caught the bartender’s attention for another drink, then turned to Mack. “I’ve been keeping up with you since that day at the convenience store.”

  “Oh … thanks. I don’t think about that much anymore.”

  “Who would? Nearly got yourself killed. Not something you want to daydream about, right?” Laura grinned and plunged her fingers back in the peanuts. “I’ve got some news for you.”

  “What?”

  “I got word you were interested in the undercover program.”

  “Yes, I’ve been accepted. Now it’s a matter of paperwork and figuring out where to put me.”

  Laura leaned onto the counter, clasping her salty hands together and meeting Mack’s curious eyes. “I got myself a task force.”

  Laura threw a few peanuts in her mouth, chomped on them, and studied Mack’s expression. She had met Mack two years ago during a hostage situation inside a convenience store. The gunmen had no idea an off-duty officer was there. Mack risked her life to save the clerk. Laura was first on the scene and never forgot this young woman’s face. Mack had walked out with a calmness that seemed to defy human nature.

  During the debriefing, Laura asked Mack how she had managed to stay calm.

  “I prayed, ma’am. I started praying and never stopped.”

  Laura had liked Mack from then on. Driven, focused, serious, but not self-absorbed—Mack reminded her of herself when she entered the force. Something told Laura this girl was somebody worth investing in. Nobody had helped Laura, shown her the ropes. She swore once she got to a place where she had the influence, she’d seek out other women with great potential and make them into something.

  “Task forces are tough to establish,” Laura continued. “You have to go through miles of red tape and get approval from people who have no business approving anything. After that, you have to stand in front of a group of men who don’t think you belong there in the first place and sell the idea that you’ve got a worthy cause.”

  “I see,” Mack said, but she looked confused.

  “I’
ve spent months compiling information on the rise in auto theft. This morning I took my information to the sheriff, the division deputy chief, the assistant sheriff for law enforcement operations, and the office of legal affairs. I threw in a bunch of numbers, mentioned how these thefts are affecting places like Lake Las Vegas too, and how the paper was going to run an investigative piece on what the city is doing to protect citizens from auto theft … and presto! Task Force Viper was born.” She glanced at Mack, who was taking in every word. “I make it sound easy,” she added, “but they don’t just hand out task forces.” She smiled. “The Financial and Property Crimes Bureau is the most underfunded bureau we have. Borrowing officers from Boulder City and Henderson will help with the cost. And it doesn’t hurt that auto theft affects the upper-class residents.”

  “So what does all of this have to do with me?”

  Dennis Norton, an officer who worked in narcotics, appeared out of nowhere, grinning like he’d just discovered gold. It was the same over-the-top grin he used every time he tried to get Laura to go out with him.

  “I’m busy,” Laura said to him.

  Not only did Dennis never get the hint, but he also never got the direct approach. At the moment, he seemed particularly fixated on a basket of fried food he was holding. His eyebrows bobbed up and down, apparently trying to express a message.

  Laura always found it odd how meticulously groomed Dennis’s pencil-thin brows were.

  He pointed to the basket of food. “Jalapeños.”

  Laura groaned. “Dennis, I’m a little busy here.” She hated running into him, but at Hippo’s, a bar so popular with cops that the drink specials had ordinance names, it was unavoidable. Dennis and his buddies served as reminders of everything that led to her being passed over for narcotics.

  “Come on, Laura.” He pointed to a table of officers who were sitting nearby and gawking. “I’ve told them all about how you can do this.”