By Laura Childs
In the newest novel from the New York Times bestselling writer of Scones & Bones, Indigo Tea store proprietor Theodosia Browning reveals herself in sizzling water whilst a physique surfaces on the grand commencing of Charleston's Neptune Aquarium...
The starting of the aquarium is a massive Charleston occasion, and Theodosia has been employed to cater the non-public celebration to honor dignitaries and big-buck donors. issues are going swimmingly—until Theodosia discovers a physique entangled in a internet, drowned in a single of the aquarium's state of the art tanks.
To make issues worse, the sufferer is Theodosia's former boyfriend, Parker Scully. The EMTs imagine Parker's drowning used to be an coincidence, but if Theodosia notices what seem like safeguard wounds on his fingers, she realizes that somebody sought after Parker useless. The police aren't a fan of her thought, so if she wishes Parker's killer dropped at justice, Theodosia must bounce into the deep finish and begin her personal investigation...
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Additional info for Agony of the Leaves (Tea Shop Mysteries, Book 13)
You should. ” 49 Shy Abita disappeared beneath a shrewd gaze. ” That ﬂoored me. Abita unfolded from the chair. ” I riﬂed through my purse for a business card. I neatly wrote down my home and cell phone numbers on the back. “You will come back? ” I asked as I handed her the card. What I really meant was: you won’t take the one link I’ve got to Ben and vanish? “When I can. The schedule is tough and when I’m done with classes I’ve have to take care of my son. I’m not used to being away from him for so many hours at a time during the day.
With her clinging to me and bawling her head oﬀ like a lost calf, I slowly navigated my way down to the sheriﬀ. ” I attempted to shake her oﬀ; she’d become a buck brush burr, refusing to let go. “I wanna go home,” June wailed. “I understand, Mrs. Everett. ” The sheriﬀ ’s gaze raked her from bare head to bare feet. ” She released me. I squirmed away. I didn’t get far. She grabbed my hand. ” My initial response didn’t make it out of my mouth, fortunately for her. Did she want me around because I was the only woman present?
She’d pronounced her ﬁrst name, A-beet-a, last name, Kay-lin. “That’s my son. ” The little boy, around three, wasn’t dressed for playing on the cold, dirty ground. Didn’t bother him; he hadn’t looked up from racing the Matchbox car back and forth. “So, Abita. Who’s our mutual acquaintance? ” Her brown eyes clouded. “No. ” “Thank goodness. ” My fake smile faltered. Occasionally clients showed up on my doorstep, hoping if I met them face to face, heard their tale of woe straight from the horse’s mouth, it’d compel me to take their case—for free—out of the goodness of my heart.