By Barbara Allan
Made up our minds to make a brand new begin in her old fashioned native land at the banks of the Mississippi, Brandy Borne by no means goals she'll develop into the leading suspect in a homicide case...Moving again in together with her eccentric, larger-than-life mom, Brandy Borne reveals small-town Serenity something yet serene. it kind of feels an unscrupulous antiques broker has swindled Vivian out of the family's heirlooms. but if he's stumbled on run over in a rustic lane, Brandy turns into homicide Suspect number 1 - along with her mom coming in a truly shut second...The checklist of different suspects is outstanding - the victim's company turns out to were according to bilking seniors out in their possessions. And while the Borne "girls" discover a couple of very unsavoury Serenity secrets and techniques, they turn into goals for a assassin whose favorite pastime appears to be like gathering sufferers.
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Additional info for Antiques Roadkill: A Trash 'n' Treasures Mystery
Someone may well have tried to lure me out to Carson’s place to implicate me. Someone who had no compunction about taking a human life. Or was I as crazy as Mother? A Trash ‘n’ Treasures Tip Sometimes, treasures can be found set out with trash on garbage collection night. Sifting through a Dumpster, however, I won’t stoop to. But Mother will. Chapter Five A Friend Indeed, a Friend in Weed midst of Mother’s murder suspicions, amateur detective work, and her fear that we’d been framed, I faced my first real crisis … In the…Clothes I didn’t know what to wear!
His head lowered. ” He swallowed, and got pats on the shoulder on either side from his compadres. My soup came, and I sipped at it while Harold, the retired army captain, next unburdened himself. He told us that a week after his wife, Norma, died, Clint Carson appeared on his doorstep and had talked Harold into “unburdening himself” of a china cabinet lled with Norma, died, Clint Carson appeared on his doorstep and had talked Harold into “unburdening himself” of a china cabinet lled with Haviland dishes … for only a few hundred dollars.
Roxanne Randolf—she had worked at the library, at the Help Desk, until a large world atlas on a high shelf had gotten away from her, the poor woman conked on the head and o a ladder—had fully recovered and was now driving the trolley. Her husband ran a business out of their home (making ceramic lighthouses), and the local gossips insisted he was having an a air with a neighbor young enough to be his daughter, but apparently Mrs. Randolf didn’t know about the tryst, and I wasn’t about to tell her … although somebody certainly should, because we of the weaker sex should stick together (except for those who are trysting with our men).