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Tracy Kiely: Murder Most Persuasive

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Tracy Kiely Murder Most Persuasive
  • Название:
    Murder Most Persuasive
  • Автор:
  • Издательство:
    Minotaur Books
  • Жанр:
  • Год:
    2011
  • Язык:
    Английский
  • ISBN:
    978-0312699413
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    3 / 5
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Murder Most Persuasive: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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After the death of Elizabeth Parker's great-uncle Martin Reynolds, the family’s house in the picturesque Maryland town of St. Michaels is sold. When the new owners dig up the pool, they find the body of the man thought to have run off eight years earlier after embezzling over a million dollars from the family business. This grisly discovery not only unearths old questions about what really happened to the stolen money, but it brings Detective Joe Muldoon back into the family’s lives. Eight years earlier, Elizabeth’s cousin Ann reluctantly broke off her relationship with Joe due to family pressure. Ann always regretted that decision and now fears that it is too late for her and Joe–especially after she becomes the main suspect. In  , a clever and entertaining story with echoes of Jane Austen’s , Elizabeth tries to not only match wits against a killer who’s had an eight year head-start, but to also try her hand at matchmaking.   

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As for Peter, he was putting together a new business deal in California, and we hadn’t had much of a chance to get together. The result was that in addition to my other “Kit duties,” I had now become her very own free babysitting service.

From the front seat, Kit suddenly gave a loud laugh. “Well, you’ll be there unless they suddenly discover that Uncle Marty was murdered and you have to fly off to solve the case!”

I looked out the window and sighed, wondering for maybe the hundredth time just how bad exposure to mold was anyway. 

Chapter 3

If there is anything disagreeable going on men are always sure to get out of it.

—Persuasion

It was around three when we arrived at Kit’s house, a two-story, whitewashed colonial dating from the 1940s. Like many of the houses in Silver Spring, it retains a vintage charm in spite of being expanded and modernized over the years. Kit, of course, is hoping to move into one of those McMansions that line the Beltway.

As soon as Kit stepped inside, Pauly launched himself at her with an enthusiasm that bordered on violence. Pauly is a miniature of his father. He has curly brown hair, a round freckled face, and a sweet, lopsided smile. He has some of his mother in him, too. He doesn’t like it when things don’t go his way and isn’t shy about letting people know it. I should know, I have bruises on my shins to prove it.

“Will you play Candy Land with me? Please? I’m so bored,” he wailed, climbing up Kit’s leg. Wiping his nose, he repeated, “Please?”

“Don’t wipe your nose on your sleeve,” Kit said automatically. “Are you feeling better, baby? Where’s Daddy?”

A head cold had kept Pauly home from preschool today. Kit’s husband, Paul, had stayed home from his job as a hot-tub salesman to watch him. Hearing our voices in the foyer, Paul wandered out from the living room, his cell phone pressed to his ear. Gesturing to Kit to wait a minute, he continued his conversation. “Yeah, Tom? Hey, listen, my wife just got in so I can get to the store after all. Tell them I’ll be there within the half hour. Okay, thanks. Bye.”

He turned to Kit. “Hey, babe. How was the funeral?”

While I tried not to laugh at the absurdity of the question, Kit put her hands on her hips and glared at Paul. “Did I hear you correctly? Are you going into the store? Today? Now?”

“Babe, come on. It’s the high season for hot tubs. You know that. The store is packed today. As manager, I have to be there. This could mean a big bonus for us.”

“You’re really going to leave? I just came home from burying my uncle! I’m exhausted!” Kit cried.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize that they actually made you dig the hole!” Paul shot back. “If you’re that tired, take a nap. I’m sure Elizabeth can watch Pauly,” he casually offered.

“But that’s not the point,” Kit began.

“Kit, he’s right,” I said. “I have the whole day off. You go take a nap. Let Paul go to the store. I can watch Pauly.” Turning to Pauly, I said, “Come on, little man, let’s go play Candy Land. But I get to be the blue guy.”

“Deal!” said Pauly, breaking into a run to his room to get the game.

“Thanks, Elizabeth,” said Paul. Looking back at Kit, he said, “Babe, don’t be this way. I have to go in to work. I wish I didn’t, but I do. I’ll try not to be too late.” Giving her a peck on the cheek, he waved good-bye to me and yelled to Pauly, “I’m leaving now, Pauly. Love you, buddy. Play nice with your aunt Elizabeth!” Two seconds later, he was out the door. I turned to Kit, about to say, “Nursing does not belong to a man; it is not his province,” but then I saw her face and thought better of the idea.

Kit frowned at the door Paul had just exited before storming up the stairs to her bedroom. “Men,” I heard her mumble before shutting the door behind her.

“Sisters,” I added under my breath before heading to Pauly’s room for a rousing game of Candy Land.

Two hours later, after multiple trips to the Candy Cane Forest and Gum Drop Mountain and hanging out with Princess Frostine, I felt like a diabetic in need of an insulin shot. Happily, Pauly seemed as exhausted as I felt, and I had no problem convincing him to take a nap. I tucked him into his Pottery Barn Speedboat bed, which Kit paid through the nose for after getting into a bidding war over it on eBay. Given the final price of the bed, I suspected that Pauly would be stuck with it all the way through high school. But who knows? It just might have been wise parenting on Kit’s part. I mean, I doubt the kid was ever going to try and sneak any girls into his room to make out on the plank detailing.

Once I was sure that Pauly was asleep, I headed for my room and flopped on my bed. Immediately, the lyrics to “I Wanna Be Like You” from Disney’s The Jungle Book burst into my brain. It wasn’t my fault. My room was the future nursery, and Kit had decided to go with a—you guessed it—jungle theme. Everywhere I looked animals of all shapes and sizes crowded together and gazed back at me. On the walls, painted monkeys and chimpanzees swung from twisted branches. From the closet doors, an elephant and a rhino peered out from behind a giant bush. On the ceiling, a giraffe leaned toward a full green leaf, its long blue-black tongue extended to take a bite.

I tried really hard not to look at the ceiling if I could help it.

When I’d moved in, Peter had taken one look at the room and reprogrammed the ring tone on his phone to play “Jungle Fever” every time I called. I did so now.

“Hey there!” he said. “I was just thinking about you. How are you doing?”

“Pretty good,” I said, scooting back on the bed so I could rest my head on the pillows all the while keeping my eyes averted from the ceiling. “Aunt Winnie says hi.”

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t be there. But I think we’re close to signing the deal.”

“That’s great!” I said. Peter was in San Diego overseeing negotiations for a new property. He’d promised to fly me out there for a getaway weekend if the deal went through. “When do you think you’ll be done?”

“What’s today? Tuesday? Probably by Friday. Think you can sneak away for the weekend? Or does Kit not let you take off weekends?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve started a tunnel to the outside from my bedroom closet. I dump the dirt out of my pants pockets when I take Pauly to the playground. By Friday, it should be ready. I already have the papier-mâché of my head completed.”

“Excellent. I’ll see you on the outside.”

We chatted a little while longer until Peter had to go. Before he hung up, he once again tried to convince me to stay at his place while my apartment was being redone. “The commute can’t be as bad as that tongue on your ceiling,” he said.

“You might have a point there,” I said with an uneasy glance upward.

“I do have a point. We’ll talk more Friday.”

“Okay. See you then.”

“Hang tough. I love you.”

My heart made that little flip-flop it did every time he said that. “I love you, too,” I said.

I hung up and rolled off the bed. Stepping out into the hall, I listened for signs of activity from Kit’s room but heard nothing. Peeking into Pauly’s room, I saw that he was still asleep, curled up with an assortment of wooden trains.

Heading downstairs, I looked at the clock. Seeing that it was five thirty, I cleaned up the kitchen and living room for Kit and then started dinner. Around six o’clock, Pauly woke up and came stumbling into the kitchen, wiping the sleep from his eyes. A few minutes later, Kit emerged from her room as well. “Oh, thanks, Elizabeth,” she said, when she saw that I’d started dinner. “I’m sorry you’ve been stuck doing so much. I just don’t have any energy these days. This pregnancy is really taking a toll on me.”

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