November 3, 2013
Among other parts of this novel I loved, are segments such as the following, “I see myself as a survivor, and aside from the spate of exploding vehicles in our parking lot last spring, I can survive quite well in my neighborhood. My basic point is that I can’t tell mom that there was a death in our building. If I do, she’ll be all over me like a dirty shirt.”
What more can I say. Five-stars and highly recommended to anyone who loves crime and mystery.
Author of Mad Dog House and Love Gone Mad
He held my hand in his, and introduced himself.
“My name is Sanford Louis Brown. You, my peach can call me Sandy. Ethel and I were dear friends. In fact, we schooled together at one point. Seems like a lifetime ago.
“Tell me Laura, who would have done this horrible thing to such a warm and loving woman?”
“Sandy the police are going to get to the bottom of it,” I replied, “Inspector Gibbons is a fantastic investigator you can be assured justice will be served.” I shared with him that I had no clue why Ethel had been victimized in such a way
“I’d like five minutes alone with the SOB who hurt my Ethel,” said Sanford with a frown. “Just let me kick in his knee caps when the time comes.”
“I have an ‘in’ with Gibbons I’ll see what I can do,” I assured him.
At that point, a statuesque blonde-haired person strode up to Sandy. The woman looked at me like I was poaching on her turf. She was head to toe in Vegas bling, but looked like Yonge street hooker trash.
”Sanford!” She yelled with her hands on her hips. “We have to go! I have to be in New York in the morning. We need to catch the Red-eye!”
Sandy sighed and looked at me to bail him out somehow. “She is trying out for the Rockettes,” he whispered to me, just out of Blondie’s earshot, “but between you and me, Leena is a bit long in the tooth for all that. She’s closing in on 40.” Sandy looked at Leena –and then back at me. “Alas my wife and boss have spoken. The glitzy Mrs. Brown was preening at her compact mirror. “You don’t have to yell Leena,” Sanford addressed her; “I have my hearing aide in.”
Leena looked at me with derision again. “Who’s the floozy?” she sneered.
I was seeing red and Sandy’s face was turning a similar color.
“Floozy?” I spluttered. I wanted to scratch her eyes out, but I refused to succumb to the base temptation to beat the broad senseless. Sensing an impending catfight Gerry rushed to my side.
Sandy looked at his wife sternly. “Leena that was tasteless and crass,” he admonished her, “you will apologize to Laura. How dare you defame this funeral of my dear friend Ethel by insulting this lovely girl?”
“Girl my ass,” Leena snarled, “she’s gotta be at least 35.”
If Gerry hadn’t held me back I would have bitch-slapped her into next week. Okay so I was almost 35; but that wasn’t the point.
Sandy was livid. “I apologize for my wife’s bad behavior. I had better take her out of here.”
He handed me one of his cards and said he would be back in a few days most likely without his spouse.