By Elaine Viets
An individual has killed Halley Hardwicke, the recent younger fashion designer of thousand-dollar Italian silk scarves, within the mall parking lot-and police have their eye on Jake, the husband of Josie's ally Alyce. The couple lived close to the wrap maven, however it turns out Halley and Jake have been a bit too neighborly. So Josie makes a decision to do what she does most sensible to assist out her friend-go undercover and spot if she will be able to locate a few clues. simply because this time, there is a lot extra at stake than a headscarf, no matter if it really is to die for...
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Additional resources for Accessory to Murder (Josie Marcus, Mystery Shopper, Book 3)
Yuck. That sound you hear is the money being sucked out of your bank account, Josie thought as the dirty water swirled around her ankles. "We need a plumber," she said. "Grandma calls Mr. Ansen," Amelia said. Mr. Ansen was sixty years old with a big belly and a smelly cigar. Josie had a better idea. " She opened the Yellow Pages. There it was, a nice big ad: "Mike’s Dogtown Plumbers. Call us - for all your plumbing needs. " Yes, indeed. Mike could fix her john and her daughter’s worries, Josie decided.
We heard it break. Halley screamed, but this time, it was fear, not anger. I think she was afraid he’d hit her. We were going to call the police and report domestic violence when suddenly, they were absolutely quiet. "A little later, we heard a door slam and a car start up. Cliff’s Mercedes. He must have gone for a drive to cool off. Cliff didn’t come back until three in the morning. He woke us up when he opened the garage door. He left for work today at seven like always, but he slammed the door so hard the windows rattled.
There was an inch of dirty water on the black-and-white tile floor and a hint of cigarette smoke laced with lemon air freshener. " "No, Mom. I just flushed and the water ran all over. I don’t know what stopped it up. " Amelia seemed genuinely distressed. Well, the plumbing was old and cranky. It probably wasn’t Amelia’s fault. "Throw your shoes in the washing machine," Josie said. She rummaged in the hall closet for the plunger. It was buried under a pile of boots and canvas carry bags. Josie stuck it in the commode and pumped the wooden handle.