Two women rebuilt their lives in the Las Vegas desert. Both left a son behind. Neither one died by accident.
Katie ran the neighborhood's favorite ice cream shop and knew her son was perfect just the way he was. Susan taught kids and veterans to heal through horses, and taught her own son that animals and hurt people both respond best to peaceful contact, never force. When Carrie realizes the two victims, two years apart, were both her own childhood friends, she can't look away, and neither can the rest of her found family.
Madonna Davis didn't plan on running another investigation at seventy-three, but two motherless boys are all the reason she's ever needed. Jake's undercover work has never been more ridiculous or more useful. Tay is running facial recognition on a man who thinks he's already gotten away with it. And Madonna's ninety-seven-year-old mother and her best friend Maude have somehow become the sharpest investigators of the whole operation, one unhinged TikTok video at a time.
Because a mother's love doesn't die when she does. Neither does her voice, not while the people who loved her carry it forward. A community shows up for the ones who need it most, and Madonna's making sure this one does.
Too many secrets. Not nearly enough time. And, darlin', somebody's finally going to answer for this.
Book 3 in the Madonna Case Files — a Las Vegas cozy mystery series where the neighborhood always has your back, and the bodies always have a story
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