By Judi Culbertson
From the again Cover
It's now not each day you get an within peek on the international of a well-known artist.
So while bookseller Delhi Laine will get the chance to appraise the past due Nate Erikson's library, she jumps on the likelihood, regardless of the mysterious situations surrounding the illustrator's loss of life. yet as she spends extra time with the eccentric Erikson extended family on the kin compound within the Hamptons, Delhi can't aid yet ask yourself what quite occurred to the misplaced patriarch.
When demise visits the relatives once again and one other Erikson is located murdered, darkish secrets and techniques come to gentle. Left dealing with a charmed kin now not relatively as idyllic as she first believed, Delhi is set to unravel the murders as soon as and for all. yet digging up truths can get you soiled . . . and Delhi is set to find simply how a long way a few will visit maintain them buried.
About the Author
Judi Culbertson attracts on her event as a used-and-rare e-book broker, social employee, and international vacationer to create her bibliophile mysteries. No stranger to cemeteries, she has additionally coauthored 5 illustrated publications along with her husband, Tom Randall, beginning with everlasting Parisians. She lives in Port Jefferson, big apple, along with her kin.
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Additional info for An Illustrated Death: A Delhi Laine Mystery (Secondhand Prose Mystery, Book 2)
Pathetic, I know, but what else was I gonna do to kill time without a TV? Dressed in casual clothes today, he seemed approachable, the kind of guy you’d share a beer with, not the attractive, professional-looking type of man I avoid like church. In junior high, my girlfriends labeled him cute, with his unremarkable brown hair, mossy green eyes, and easy smile. As a man, “cute” no longer applies. Quite simply, he’s striking. Tall, muscular, and conﬁdent, he’s grown into his angular features, pumped up his once-slight frame, and success ﬁts him as well as the double-breasted suits he favors.
She married Dick Friel. ” The horror on his face matched my own. My earlier ﬂip comments to the sheriﬀ brought shame to my soul. ” I glanced at the picture again, then back at him. “But how . . ” 26 Kevin stared through me, absentmindedly sweeping a tangled section of hair over my shoulder. ” “Sure I can. ” His beer-cooled lips touched my forehead. ” When he pulled away, I focused on his eyes, wanting reassurance. I found none. The last thing I needed was the image of a sweet-looking dead girl ﬂoating around in my head all night along with the other dead people already clogging my nightmares.
I heard his sigh before it crossed my face, sweet, minty, close. “I’d considered it, but he seems to be the only one who gave a damn about her. ” Slowly, I opened my eyes knowing Kevin would be right in my face. I wasn’t disappointed. His eyes, an intense green, locked on mine and I resisted the urge to squirm. He believes the crap about eyes being windows to the soul and reads me accurately on most days. I didn’t want him delving that deeply into me right now. ” A cocky smile later, he backed oﬀ.