The Lush Life (Samantha Jamison Mystery Book 8)

 

 

 

The Lush Life

A Samantha Jamison Mystery

Book 8

 

 

 

by

 

Peggy A.
Edelheit

 

 

Chase your Dreams

& Remember,

Every Day is a Blessing

 

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

The Lush Life: A Samantha Jamison Mystery Book 8

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this eBook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this eBook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

 

Copyright © 2014 by Peggy A.
Edelheit
. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this eBook, or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be
reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled,
reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this eBook via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

 

The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

 

Cover art:

Copyright © iStockPhoto/2154353/dehooks

 

Edited by
Winslow Eliot

 

Published by
Telemachus
Press, LLC

http://www.telemachuspress.com

 

Visit the author’s website

http://www.samanthajamison.com

 

ISBN
978
-1-938135-97-2 (eBook)

 

2015..05.28

 

 

Dedication

 

With love to my husband

My biggest supporter and confidant

& my three sons

 

 

Acknowledgments

 

 

A Special thanks to

My Editor

Winslow Eliot

 

 

Publisher

Telemachus
Press

Steven & Terri Himes

Steven & Claudia Jackson

 

 

 

The Lush Life

A Samantha Jamison Mystery

Book 8

 

 

Chapter 1

 

Hung Up On The Details

 

My definition of murder: intentional killing of a person, mainly with premeditated malice.

Check.

So far I qualified.

Come to think of it, I qualified on all counts.

I was okay with the premeditation part, I certainly felt malice. I even had justification: a damn good excuse.

Why?

My ever-challenging and sporadic sleuthing partner in crime, Clay, had made a promise involving me without asking me first, taking advantage of our relationship.

As a mystery author, I wrote about them: murders, that is, but this time I felt like committing one, especially after Clay never bothered checking with me. It didn’t involve the Worth Art Gallery he recently considered acquiring. That deadly deal was history. No, this involved me housesitting.

After selling their art gallery to someone else, Clay’s friends, Alicia and Chris Worth, decided to take their trip to Europe for a month
so they could collect some personal art. They asked Clay if he’d work from their house until they got back. Busy sidetracked with a new investigation, Clay promised them I’d do it. So my evil thoughts flourished.

But then Clay clarified the
Worths
’ no-can-lose freebie.

They were so impressed with our investigative skills in solving the problems plaguing their gallery, they suggested we continue to stay in their old, stone French house while they were gone, as well as Martha, Hazel and Betty: my senior-sleuthing crew. If Clay was needed elsewhere, like now, he could just leave and return anytime he wanted to.

I’d use Alicia’s home office, Clay would use Chris’s. The house was located minutes from downtown New Hope, an hour fifteen minutes from New York City, an hour from Philadelphia and two from both the beach and mountains.

Now, as far as murder was concerned, I had seriously contemplated the dastardly act when Clay first told me, but after some reflection,
especially after they topped it off by offering me the use of their master suite,
I reconsidered.

I’d get to live
the lush life
plus receive a cash bonus.

Alicia’s office turned out to be the perfect place to finish my seventh mystery,
No Hope In New Hope,
the one
about art fraud. But after I hit the attachment tab to send that manuscript off to my editor, I just sat… and sat, tapping my finger on my laptop.
Now what would I do?

The driveway
annunciator
buzzed: a car. I opened the foyer door, registering shock.
“Mona?” I hugged her then glanced behind her…
no car
. “Who left you off so fast?”

She leaned in, winking and whispering, “
He
did.”

“Who’s
he?
” I asked, still gaping at her standing there.

My former college friend quickly shoved me back inside and slammed the door behind her. “My potential fiancé!”

I barely choked out, “...You have
another
one?”

“Don’t be snarky,” she said. “You know all about him!”

I stood there vigorously shaking my head. “
Nuh
-uh.”

“You invited me here, remember?” Mona persisted.

“Invited you… here? To the
Worths
’ house?”

“Don’t play around,” hissed my ample-figured, quirky, and impulsive friend
.
“This could be life or death!”

“How come everything with you is life or death?”

“Look,
we’re
pressed to the wall here,” she countered.

I paused. “...
We?
Same old, just a different day, right?”

Still leaning into me closely, dark-haired Mona began perspiring. Odd, considering it was cool out. What was she really up to? There was normally a degree of suspicion in the air whenever Mona called or showed up. I tried to shake off a sense of foreboding on another repeat episode. She was obviously under the gun, pushing this, this…
what?

Footsteps approached
. We both looked toward the door.

Mona lowered her voice. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

Now curious, I relented. “We better because...”

Mona silenced me and opened the door. “Teddy!”

Beyond Mona stood a fine masterpiece of manliness: one hot-looking guy about six foot-three, muscled, solid as a rock, light brown wavy hair that curled at the collar and the deepest blue eyes...

This vision was Mona’s fiancé?

I hesitated then stuck out my hand awkwardly.

“...Uh, hi. I’m Samantha.”

Teddy sized me up: my thin figure, long blonde hair, fair complexion. I was the polar opposite of Mona.

“...Mona
, she’s
your sister?”

My eyes darted to Mona’s.
...Sister?

Mona gave me a cheerful smile and a sly wink.

I had ventured into Mona’s
skillset
once again.
Lying.

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