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Tall Tail: A Mrs. Murphy Mystery - Hardcover

Buch 25 von 34: Mrs. Murphy Mysteries

Brown, Rita Mae

 
9780553392463: Tall Tail: A Mrs. Murphy Mystery

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In this fast-paced mystery by Rita Mae Brown and her feline co-author Sneaky Pie Brown, Mary Minor "Harry" Haristeen and her animal friends seek to solve a whodunit rooted in eighteenth-century Virginia-uncovering a shocking secret that refuses to stay buried.

TALL TAIL

At any moment a perfect summer day in Crozet, Virginia-nestled within the Blue Ridge Mountains-might turn stormy and tempestuous, as Harry knows too well when a squall suddenly sweeps in. In a blink, Harry's pickup nearly collides with a careening red car that then swerves into a ditch. Harry recognizes the dead driver slumped over the vehicle's steering wheel: Barbara Leader was nurse and confidante to former Virginia governor Sam Holloway.

Though Barbara's death is ruled a heart attack, dissenting opinions abound. After all, she was the picture of health, which gives Harry and her four-legged companions pause. A baffling break-in at a local business leads Harry to further suspect that a person with malevolent intent lurks just out of sight: Something evil is afoot.

As it happens, Barbara died in the shadow of the local cemetery's statue of the Avenging Angel. Just below that imposing funereal monument lie the remains of one Francisco Selisse, brutally murdered in 1784. Harry's present-day sleuthing draws her back to Virginia's slave-holding past and the hunt for Selisse's killer. Now it's up to Harry and her furry detectives-Mrs. Murphy, Pewter, and Tee Tucker-to expose the bitter truth, even if it means staring into the unforgiving eyes of history and cornering a callous killer poised to pounce.

Praise for the Mrs. Murphy Mysteries by Rita Mae Brown and Sneaky Pie Brown

"As feline collaborators go, you couldn't ask for better than Sneaky Pie Brown." -The New York Times Book Review

"Mrs. Murphy mysteries are fun, sweet, and beautifully adventurous." - Bustle

"Brown [is] the queen of the talking animal cozy." - Publishers Weekly

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Rita Mae Brown is the bestselling author of the Sneaky Pie Brown series; the Sister Jane series; the Runnymede books, including Six of One and Cakewalk; A Nose for Justice and Murder Unleashed; Rubyfruit Jungle; and In Her Day, as well as several other novels. An Emmy-nominated screenwriter and a poet, Brown lives in Afton, Virginia.
 
Sneaky Pie Brown, a tiger cat born somewhere in Albemarle County, Virginia, was discovered by Rita Mae Brown at her local SPCA. They have collaborated on numerous Mrs. Murphy mysteries—in addition to Sneaky Pie’s Cookbook for Mystery Lovers and Sneaky Pie for President.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

chapter 1

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Flaming sword in hand, the Avenging Angel, bestride a monumental tomb, looked over the rolling land toward the Blue Ridge Mountains. His mouth set hard, his eyes piercing, he was not the promise of peace, repose, and eternal joy with the Almighty.

Lying underneath this imposing marble tomb rested the bones of Francisco Selisse, born January 12, 1731. Died September 10, 1784. Historians still puzzle over exactly how he was murdered. Three other people stood in the room when it happened. The stories varied, but no one denied that Francisco had been stabbed to death.

Big Rawly, the plantation on which this sordid event occurred, looked much as it did in 1784. Brick or clapboard, most early Virginia homes resembled one another. In general, the wealthy wanted Georgian homes, but Big Rawly, modeled after a French château, down to the stables and outbuildings, never failed to impress.

Harry had played there as a child with children from the neighboring estate Beau Pre, Big Rawly itself, plus those children whose mothers drove them to the estate. The estate's owners, the Holloways, had children, loved children, and were welcoming to any and all. Susan Tucker, Harry's best friend, was their granddaughter.

Francisco and Maureen Selisse had been childless, and this gaggle of children might have pleased them. Hard to say, for their reputation for ruthlessness endures to this day.

The cemetery in which this imposing tomb commanded center stage was said to be haunted. As a child, Harry had steered clear of the graveyard, and even as an adult that hard- eye stone angel gave her a shiver. Over the centuries, many declared they had seen ghosts here, but with a consideration praiseworthy in the disembodied, the departed never disturbed children.

Now, as an adult, as Harry passed the place, rumbling on the narrow road leading out of Garth Road, she wondered if this consideration would always hold true.

Turning left, heading for Crozet, she noted dark clouds backing up behind the Blue Ridge. Never a good sign. Accompanying her in her old 1978 F- 150 sat Mrs. Murphy, the tiger cat, and Pewter, the gray cat. Tucker, a corgi, was also present and always ready to help. The same could not be said of the cats.

They reached another left turn, which wound a few miles down to old Three- Chopt Road, Route 250. Given the threat of a storm, Harry chose this faster route instead of the pleasant drive to Whitehall, where she would also turn left to head home.

Coming at her in the opposite direction, a red Camry flew around a curve up ahead. On such a twisty road, Harry thought it best to be alert. She had stopped, put her left flasher on, when a tremendous clap of thunder startled her and her passengers.

Immediately after, the red Camry swerved straight at them. The car appeared totally out of control. Harry hit the gas, and the vehicle missed her truck bed by inches. She quickly surged ahead before turning around in the small Mt. Olivet church parking lot up ahead. Returning to the turnoff, she found the red Camry nosed into the low runoff ditch. Its wheels spun, the motor kept running.

Turning onto Owensville Road, Harry pulled as far as she could off to the side. Closing the door as the first raindrop fell, she ran to the Camry. A middle- aged woman was slumped over the wheel and did not respond to Harry's rapping on the window. Recognizing the driver, Barbara Leader, who had been in the class behind her at high school, Harry rapped louder. "Barbara!"

No response.

Fortunately, the door was not locked. Harry opened it, touched Barbara's shoulder. No response. She took her pulse. No pulse. Barbara's head dropped forward. Seeing the glassy eyes, Harry knew there was no hope.

Racing back to her truck, Harry climbed into the bed where she kept her tool box, yanked out two flares, and ran back, putting one on each side o

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