How Nancy Drew, Scooby-Doo, a Library Card, and Being a C.K. led to a Love of Mysteries

 

By Heather Weidner

I’m a C. K. (Cop’s Kid). Growing up, I thought everyone talked about murder and crime at the dinner table. Years later, I learned this wasn’t always the best conversation topic, especially back then when true crime wasn’t as popular as it is now.

One of my first jobs was to pick up the shell casings at the range after my dad practiced. My sister and I played on the adventure course next to the range. It wasn’t until years later that I found out that was where the K9 units trained on the dog agility course.

My dad always had interesting gadgets. My sister and I would borrow his nightscope and high-powered binoculars to see what was in the backyard in the dark (usually the neighbor’s poodle). I loved the greenish glow and the spooky aura it created. We’d pretend we were watching for spies or marauders in our suburban backyard. Way before paintball was popular, Dad and I melted down my old crayons to make dummy bullets for the SWAT team to practice with.

There were many times that he got paged to report to work. Once, we were returning a rented video to the store (that tells you how long ago this was), and a guy ran out of the A&P grocery store. He was being chased by the manager and some staff for shoplifting. My sister and I spent the afternoon waiting for my dad to do the booking paperwork. I learned most of the police ten-codes for the radio before I reached middle school. The squawk of the police radio was just part of our daily lives.

My dad was a superhero for career day. He “arrested” my first-grade teacher and put her in his cruiser and blasted the siren. Then the police helicopter landed in the field next door to the school. (It was way cooler than the insurance guy’s presentation.)

My dad also gave unique gifts. Through the years, I’ve received a DNA kit in case I ever disappeared and needed to be identified. One Christmas, he gave us a folding ladder in case we needed to escape a fire on the second floor. I have lots of containers of heavy-duty pepper spray and those little gadgets that will break your car window and cut your seatbelt if you drive off a bridge. He checked the windows and doors in every apartment I had, and situational awareness exercises and personal safety lessons were just games we played. Being a C.K. exposed me to some of the behind-the-scenes life with law enforcement. It also provided a lot of great background material for my mysteries.

I have always been an avid reader of all kinds genres, but I always gravitated to the mysteries that I have loved since Scooby-Doo. When I received my first library card, I knew it was special. It was the key that opened up new worlds. I dove right into Nancy Drew, the Hardy Boys, and the Three Investigators before moving on to Agatha Christie and Sherlock Holmes. Many thanks to the fabulous school librarians and those at the Kempsville Library who introduced me to so many amazing stories and writers.

It was a natural fit for me to write what I loved to read and watch (and what I had grown up with as a kid). My dad is still my best resource. He’s now retired from forty-six years of service on the Virginia Beach police force, but he still has good stories (and stupid criminal tales) to tell. Plus, as a writer, there are just some things I don’t want to Google, like, “Hey, Dad, how long will a body stay submerged, or what does a meth lab smell like?” Thankfully, he answered those and many more odd questions for me.

I was so fortunate to have such a great childhood in the 70s and 80s. My dad put in long hours as a public servant, and it was scary when he was called out in the middle of the night for emergencies, but I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything. I learned some really good life skills. How many six-year-olds do you know who can make dummy bullets and spout off Miranda rights and old radio ten-codes? 

(Me with my Uncle Jeff - I'm the one wearing my dad's uniform hat.)

Through the years, Heather Weidner has been a cop’s kid, technical writer, editor, college professor, software tester, and IT manager. She writes the Pearly Girls Mysteries, the Delanie Fitzgerald Mysteries, The Jules Keene Glamping Mysteries, and The Mermaid Bay Christmas Shoppe Mysteries.

Her short stories appear in the Virginia is for Mysteries series, 50 Shades of Cabernet, Deadly Southern Charm, and Murder by the Glass, and she has non-fiction pieces in Promophobia and The Secret Ingredient: A Mystery Writers’ Cookbook.

She is a member of Sisters in Crime – Central Virginia, Sisters in Crime – Chessie, Guppies, International Thriller Writers, and James River Writers.

Originally from Virginia Beach, Heather has been a mystery fan since Scooby-Doo and Nancy Drew. She lives in Central Virginia with her husband and a pair of Jack Russell terriers.

LinkTree: https://linktr.ee/heatherweidner