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    No Returns: Finley Anderson Tanner Mysteries
    No Returns: Finley Anderson Tanner Mysteries
    No Returns: Finley Anderson Tanner Mysteries
    Ebook99 pages1 hour

    No Returns: Finley Anderson Tanner Mysteries

    By Rhonda Pollero

    4/5

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    About this ebook

    In NO RETURNS bargain-hunting, crime-fighting paralegal Finley Anderson Tanner gets her most difficult client ever – her disapproving mother. She’s up against a perpetrator who isn’t afraid to shoot first.  Luckily she’s also up against her totally hot boyfriend Liam McGarrity.  Together the duo dodge bullets and their attraction to one another as they try to unmask a blackmailer.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPollero
    Release dateMar 17, 2016
    ISBN9780692630471
    No Returns: Finley Anderson Tanner Mysteries
    Author

    Rhonda Pollero

    USA Today BESTSELLING AUTHOR USA Today Bestselling author Rhonda Pollero has penned more than 40 novels including the popular Rose Tattoo, Landry Brothers and Finley Tanner series. She has been featured in Cosmopolitan Magazine, The New York Times and The Washington Post. She is considered an expert on structuring the novel.

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    Reviews for No Returns

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    • 5/5
      The main character, are there going to be any more Finley
      Anderson Tanner mysteries? Please….??
    • 3/5
      The story, like all of the Finley Tanner stories, is entertaining. Maybe I shouldn't have read five in a row, though, because I can't get past the fact that the exact same paragraphs - word for word - appear in different books. Even a "love scene" is repeated verbatim. Also, there are so many instances where something happens in one book, then in the next one the story changes. For example, in one book, Finley's mother comes to Finley's new house and makes insulting remarks about it. Then, in a later book, her mother shows up unannounced, and Finley is surprised because her mother has never been to her house. Huh? I'm not trying to nit pick, but there are just so many inconsistencies. And I'm pretty sure the cost of all the Rolex parts Finley buys on eBay add up to more than the cost of the new Rolex. It's disappointing to have things like that take away from a story that is otherwise compelling and entertaining, with funny and likable characters.

    Book preview

    No Returns - Rhonda Pollero

    DEDICATION

    Happy Mother’s Day and eternal thanks to the brave birth mom who gave me my cherished daughter, Katie Scarlett.

    Sex, lies and my mother????

    CHAPTER ONE

    I was running late, not that’s newsworthy, but I was low on time as I pointed my champagne colored Mercedes toward my modest cottage on Palm Beach. The pink-striped Victoria’s Secret bag sat on the passenger’s seat. A special little outfit for a special occasion.

    I felt a smile come to my lips just thinking about my reunion with Liam. Though we’d only been officially dating for a few weeks, we were still in the honeymoon phase. Especially when he’d been out of town on a case for almost three weeks.

    Liam is a private eye who often does work for the law firm where I’m employed and in my opinion, underpaid. I’m a paralegal at Dane, Lieberman and Caprelli. I used to be strictly estates and trusts but a year ago they added litigation support to my duties.  But they didn’t add any digits to my paycheck.

    Jesus, I muttered as I glanced at my fingertips on the steering wheel. I had a nasty smudge in the polish on my index finger. It bothered the hell out of me but I didn’t think Liam would notice. He tended to concentrate on other parts of my body. A shiver slid down my spine. I definitely had sex on the brain.

    Well I did until I turned into the horseshoe-shaped drive in front of my house. What the f-?  The question trailed off as I took in the sight of my mother’s Bentley.

    And it was hers. Unlike my Mercedes, which was owned by Mercedes Leasing Corp. And my house, which had a line of credit on it that I was plowing through at an alarming rate. A fact not lost on my dear friend and financial advisor, Jane. So I had splurged on a few full-price purchases. I was still secretly trolling outlets, thrift stores and eBay. And after three years of mother-induced poverty, I was good at finding bargains and gently used deals.

    My mother never dropped by unannounced. I immediately scanned my memory trying to figure out what mortal sin I’d committed since our last meeting.

    I stopped the car and got out. As I did, my mother cut the engine in the Bentley and gracefully extracted herself from the car. She had on a stunning pale green Chanel suit with nude Louboutin heels and matching bag. She reached inside the car and took out a briefcase. Well, it wasn’t technically a briefcase; it was an YSL satchel she used as a briefcase.

    We exchanged air kisses and the scent of her perfume hung like a cloud between us. I was holding my bag and mentally counting down the time I had to shower and dress before Liam came over. This was not a good time. Then again, my mother is rarely a good time.

    Do you always work late? she asked.

    Errand, I replied, lifting my bag.

    She looked at it as if I was holding a dead kitten.

    Shopping again, Finley?

    Great, my fears were coming true. She was going to lecture me on my shopping habits. This from the woman who has a stylist bring things to her penthouse for consideration.

    I needed some . . . intimates.

    She eyed me like I’d just admitted being a serial killer. Then I noticed it. There was something in my mother’s brown eyes. Something different. It wasn’t disdain, which I was used to. Not even irritation. Weird.

    Are you going to invite me in? she asked curtly.

    Of course, said, digging my keys out of my purse.

    We walked up the crushed shell drive and as I reached to put the key in the lock, she said, Was it dress down day at work?

    Shot fired.

    I wasn’t encased in Chanel but I was wearing a cute Lilly Pulitzer shift dress. It was white with little pink bows down the back over the zipper. I had on bright fuchsia pumps and a matching Michael Kors purse. Perfectly appropriate for the office.

    Liam was due in forty-seven minutes.

    I like to be comfortable when I’m working.

    My mother followed me in as I disabled the alarm and then set my package on the counter. I turned to see her reaction. After declining all my invitations, this was her first visit to the cottage since she’d sold it to me more than a year ago. I know it’s stupid but part of me wanted some praise for the way the place had turned out.

    She glanced around the kitchen, living room and dining room area, her expression never wavered. Finally, she asked, I’ve never seen a house decorated entirely with furnishings from that Swedish mega store. It’s very . . . interesting.

    I felt a tad deflated. Would you like to see the bedrooms? I asked just to be courteous.

    Perhaps later, she said as she ran her hand over her perfectly coiffed hair. Do you have any wine?

    White Zin, I answered as I moved into the kitchen. Will that do?

    If that’s all you have.

    What I have is a date. I checked my watch again and said a few choice words to myself. I poured the wine and handed it to her.

    Once I made myself a cosmo, my mother had moved into the living room and was seated very properly on the edge of the white sofa, her legs crossed at the ankles. She took a sip of wine, holding the satchel close to her hip.

    I have a problem, she said after three more fortifying sips.

    And you came to me?  Color me stunned.

    You are my daughter.

    But not the right daughter. My mother always sought the counsel of my younger, successful, married sister, Lisa. Lisa was a pediatric oncologist who had married another doctor from one of Atlanta’s better families. I was happy for Lisa and happy for me. As a maid of honor gift, Lisa gave me a pair of much coveted Jimmy Choos.

    I sat across from my mother and it was my turn to grab a gulp of alcohol. What do you need?

    My mother stiffened her already rigid spine. She looked very regal, except for the odd expression in her eyes. Cassidy Presley Tanner Browning Rossi was every inch the diva she’d aspired to be before she accidentally got pregnant with me. The fact that she’s developed throat nodules that actually ended her career as an opera singer got lost in translation. Somewhere down inside I know she blames me for stealing her spotlight. This makes no sense if you think about my name.

    Until the age of thirteen, I thought Jonathan Tanner was my father.

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