When Vicktor graciously invited me onto his blog, he said he enjoyed seeing missing scenes. I thought ‘wow, what a great idea.’ While this scene would have been at the end of the novella, it really has no spoilers unless you consider a happy ever after ending a spoiler. I had fun writing this. For a bit of context, If Two of Them Are Dead is a steampunk-mystery. Victor Van Voorhis is a detective and Abraham Westbrook is the brother-in-law of the murder victim.

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As the maid shut the door behind Victor, Justin rolled forward. His mechanical arms extended and Victor deposited his hat and jacket with the steam-driven butler.
“Thank you, Justin.” If Abraham could talk to his invention, so could Victor. He turned to the maid. “Mr. Westbrook is expecting me.”
“Yes sir. I'll take you to him.”
She led him through the palatial home and onto the back porch. It would have been quicker if he had just walked around the house. Outside, Abraham lounged in a chair, looking out over his vast yard. His sons played badminton, hurling taunts at each other as brothers did. Vivian ran along the tree line chasing Cerberus, the mechanical dog Abraham had invented for Harrison. Vivian was Abraham's wild child.
She spotted him before her father did. With a whoop, she bolted across the yard, making a bee line for Victor. Abraham glanced up, his hair flopping into his eyes. He shoved it back, smiling at Victor.  The maid took her leave and Miss Wedderburn, the children's governess acknowledged Victor with a nod before turning her gaze back out to where her charges still played.

“Detective Van Voorhis!” Vivian flew up the porch steps and threw her arms around Victor's legs. She crushed herself to him.  “You came!”
“I promised you he would.” Her father laughed, getting up.
Victor ruffled Vivian's hair. “It's nice to see you again, Vivian.”
“Let the man go now, Viv and go play,” Abraham said, and she pouted at him. Nevertheless, she did let go and stomped down the steps. “Sorry about that.”
“I don’t mind.”
“She’s informed me she’s marrying you.” Abraham beamed. “She will not hear a word against it.”
Victor blushed. “Oh dear.”
“You’re her Prince Charming, sir,” Miss Wedderburn said, getting to her feet. “You did save her after all.”
“You did at that.” Abraham’s eyes grew solemn at the memory of that night. “Miss Wedderburn, why don’t you take them over to my brother’s now?”
“Of course, sir. I was just about to round them up.”
Abraham said goodbye to his children, but he and Victor only managed to escape to his workshop once he promised the children they could go for a ride next time. He led Victor to the workshop. The roof was open, and the brilliant gold and red balloon of his private airship stuck up through the hanger doors.
“I don’t mind if the children come, you know,” Victor said as Abraham handed him a flight cap and goggles.
“Yes, but I have plans for you that are inappropriate for children.” Abraham pulled Victor into a kiss.
“Mmmm, I like this plan.”
“I knew you would.”
They boarded the ship and set off for their planned cruise down the Hudson. Victor never felt freer than when he was in the air. Abraham took that freedom to a new level. Soaring above the ground, their cares and concerns could slip away if only for a little while.



Thanks again to Vicktor for having me over.


Excerpt– If Two of Them Are Dead
Unsurprisingly, wealthy men like Abraham Westbrook thought they were in charge of everything. Victor had expected it, but that didn’t make it any less aggravating when Abraham insisted on meeting his brother at the airstrip. When Victor couldn’t dissuade him, he allowed Westbrook to accompany him in his police-issued horseless carriage to the small strip out on the edge of town, where it wouldn’t bother the well-heeled Hyde Park residents.
From the red, black, and yellow bladder on the airship, Victor knew it was from the Dunn line. There probably wasn’t an airship he couldn’t name after a quick glance. A frisson of grief over his injury-ended career as an airman peeked out of a dark corner of Victor’s mind as it so often did whenever he was at an airstrip. Next to him, Abraham shifted his weight back and forth as they waited for the Dunn ship to dock.
“You don’t have to be here, sir. If you need time to yourself after what’s happened, you could wait in the station.” Victor pointed back over his shoulder at the small but well-appointed building. “Or the automobile.”
Abraham offered a weary smile. “Thank you for the concern, Detective. I need to be here for my brother.”
Victor nodded. He doubted he would be any different. In retrospect, it might be good Abraham had insisted on coming, because Victor didn’t know what Benjamin looked like. He followed Abraham’s lead once the passengers began to disembark. He probably could have picked Benjamin Westbrook out of the crowd based on the stiffness of his posture and the anguish etched into his face.
Benjamin Westbrook was quite different from his brother. He wore a suit—that probably cost half-a-year’s pay for Victor—impeccable in every sense and traditional, stolid deep blue with a white shirt. While Abraham’s hair was longer than was usual and a deep brown, Benjamin’s hair might even be more conservative than Victor’s, a more muddy and unattractive shade of brown. He lacked his brother’s tall, lanky form. Victor knew he had nothing to base it on, but Benjamin’s face didn’t look like he smiled often.
Abraham briefly embraced his brother, and Victor overheard his mumbled “I’m sorry, Ben.”
Benjamin caught his brother’s wrist. “Is it true? Is Permelia dead? What are they doing about it?”
“It’s true. I truly am sorry, Ben.” Abraham beckoned Victor forward. “This is Detective Victor Van Voorhis. He’s going to get to the bottom of this for us, and he has some questions for you.”
Victor certainly hoped Abraham was right. Benjamin looked less convinced. His pinched face was as cold as Abraham’s had been warm.



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* Author's Bio 

Jana Denardo's career choices and wanderlust take her all over the United States and beyond. Much of her travels make their way into her stories. Fantasy, science fiction, and mystery have been her favorite genres since she started reading, and they often flavor her works. In her secret identity, she works with the science of life and gives college students nightmares. When she’s not chained to her computer writing, she functions as stray cat magnet.
Jana is Queen of the Geeks (her students voted her in) and her home and office are shrines to any number of comic book and manga heroes along with SF shows and movies too numerous to count. There is no coincidence the love of all things geeky has made its way into many of her stories. To this day, she’s still disappointed she hasn’t found a wardrobe to another realm, a superhero to take her flying among the clouds or a roguish star ship captain to run off to the stars with her.
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