Home :: Mystery/Thriller :: Katrina Ogden Mysteries, Book 3: KO'd In The Rift by Victoria Heckman (Murder Mystery Series)

Katrina Ogden Mysteries, Book 3: KO'd In The Rift by Victoria Heckman (Murder Mystery Series)

Katrina Ogden Mysteries, Book 3: KO'd In The Rift by Victoria Heckman (Murder Mystery Series)
 
(2 reviews)  

Dark, exciting doings in Paradise--murder, suspense, elder fraud and island passions, plus the witty, lovable Katrina Ogden--who could ask for more? Victoria Heckman knows Hawaii, and tight storytelling. A great, fun read!
Thomas B. Sawyer, Head Writer of Murder, She Wrote, author of The Sixteenth Man

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Katrina Ogden Mysteries, Book 3: KO'd In The Rift by Victoria Heckman (Murder Mystery Series)
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2 Most useful customer reviews (see all reviews):
Deborah Turrell Atkinson, Author of Primitive Secrets and The Green Room
HPD officer Katrina Ogden faces more than one rift in Victoria Heckman's Hawaiian mystery, K.O.'d in the Rift. Pour yourself a mai tai and head for a secluded spot on the beach to enjoy the ride as Heckman leads you into the dark corners and perilous chasms of Hawaiian land disputes. Heckman's characters' pidgin rings true as K.O., in her search for a clever killer, must make painful choices in her personal and professional lives.

Meanwhile, danger and desperation ride the Hawaiian trade winds in K.O.'d in the Rift.
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Robert S. Levinson, best-selling author of ASK A DEAD MAN and HOT PAINT
"Victoria Heckman delivers a knockout punch in this Hono-lulu of an action-filled story, demonstrating her love for the islands and how well she knows the lei of the land in page after page of history, mystery, murder, mayhem, and no small measure of suspense."
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Sample Chapter

Chapter One

Honolulu police officer Katrina Ogden, K.O., sat slumped at her desk, chin in hand, dispiritedly surveying the four foot high stack of paper in the corner.

The Sergeant's Exam materials.

She had started to study. Several times. It just seemed like something always interrupted her. She did take some of it home to work on late at night after her 3:00 to 11:00 P.M. shift in Evidence. That had been the problem--late at night. With the best of intentions, she would sit at her dining room table, stiff and uncomfortable, bright light glaring onto the pages. It did no good. She drifted off to sleep and woke hours later with a crick in her neck and no idea of what she'd read.

The exam, designed by a clerk test preparer at the city and county level, not a cop, was nearly impossible to study for. It could encompass anything from union rules to police standards and conduct. It was a "crapshoot", as others gone before had told K.O.

She sighed, rubbed her face and ran her fingers through her short, red hair. This wasn't getting anything done, much less preparing for the exam. She told herself she'd finish checking the forms stacked on her desk against the evidence submitted, then she'd crack the penal code book. Again.

As the head of Evidence on her shift, one of her tasks was to make sure that evidence logged in was actually what and where it was said to be. She picked up the log on her way to the Evidence room in the main office.

She unlocked the door and stepped inside the cavernous room. Metal shelves lined the walls up to the ceiling, and more rows divided the room into narrow aisles--a bizarre warehouse of people's lives torn apart by crime.

The room was further divided by types of crime and evidence. Separate sections for weapons, homicide, drugs. Larger pieces of evidence, such as cars, were in a different, roomier location.

She passed by the boogie board with the large, jagged semi-circular bite missing. During her first tour of the evidence locker, she'd asked why this obvious, but sinister-looking item was included. It was considered evidence in a Missing Person's case, because a body had never been recovered. Every time she passed it, she thought, "Duh. He's going to be missing for a long time."

She walked among the shelves, matching tag numbers to items, trying not to absorb the impact of thousands of objects, some bloodied and mangled, others more innocuous looking, that represented unsolved crimes. It saddened her to think that so many cases would never be closed, meaning that all those families touched by them would have no end. In self-defense, she shut them all out, those small voices asking for help, and briskly moved through the shadowy room.

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