Dead Man Docking (Bed-and-Breakfast Series #21)

Dead Man Docking (Bed-and-Breakfast Series #21)

3.0 6
by Mary Daheim

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B&B hostess Judith McMonigle Flynn and her closer-than-a-sibling cousin Renie would be crazy to turn down a free, 1930s-themed South Pacific islands cruise aboard the magnificent San Rafael, the pride of the Cruz Cruises fleet. Unfortunately, the fabulous pre-launch party is as far out to sea as the passengers are likely to get, after the body of their VIP host,

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B&B hostess Judith McMonigle Flynn and her closer-than-a-sibling cousin Renie would be crazy to turn down a free, 1930s-themed South Pacific islands cruise aboard the magnificent San Rafael, the pride of the Cruz Cruises fleet. Unfortunately, the fabulous pre-launch party is as far out to sea as the passengers are likely to get, after the body of their VIP host, Magglio Cruz, is discovered stuffed in the piano and the cruise is cancelled.

Suddenly free to gad about San Francisco with their marooned shipmates -- at least one of whom is possibly homicidal -- the cousins decide to join glamorous, martini-quaffing Rick and Rhoda St. George and their wheezy white pooch, Asthma, for a bit of amateur sleuthing. But the route to Magglio's murderer may not be such smooth sailing. And if Judith, Renie, and the St. Georges aren't careful, they may all end up leaving their hearts in San Francisco . . . and the rest of their mortal remains as well!

Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly
In Daheim's disappointing 21st bed-and-breakfast cozy (after 2004's This Old Souse), B&B owner Judith Flynn and cousin Renie tear off to San Francisco to join a 1930s-themed maiden cruise for Renie's employer's newest luxury liner. The dock is as far as they get, however, after someone stabs cruise line owner Magglio Cruz to death at the bon voyage party. While the ship remains in port, the intimate group of partygoers continues to mix and mingle and dwindle in number. Aided by wealthy sleuthing, martini-swilling couple Rick and Rhoda, Judith and Renie attempt to narrow the list of suspects. These 21st-century characters, who include an impassioned environmentalist and a blonde "bombshell" bimbo, seem caught in a time warp as they blurt lingo like "flatfoot" and "dame." This almost slapstick tale with its contrived dialogue falls far below the level Daheim fans have grown to expect. Agent, Maureen Moran. (Aug.) Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.
Library Journal
Another intriguing tale in her Bed-and-Breakfast series features San Francisco's bright-and dark-spots. The USA Today best-selling author lives in Seattle. Northwest regional author appearances. Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.
Kirkus Reviews
A spoof of Nick and Nora Charles, with a komondor standing in for Asta and enough martinis to pickle all three livers. When Magglio Cruz begrudgingly compensates graphics designer Renie Jones with a stateroom for the inaugural cruise of the San Rafael, his premier liner, Renie invites her cousin Judith Flynn (Hocus Croakus, 2003, etc.) to come along. They arrive in San Francisco just in time for the VIP pre-launch party. Unfortunately, the entertainment is curtailed when the host is found sopping wet, stabbed to death, inside the piano. In short order, Dixie, the cruise director, is poisoned and Emile, the purser, is strangled. What's more, that snobbish dowager, Mrs. Giddon, has her jewels heisted, and the cousins confront a plethora of suspects: a dim ingenue, her impecunious suitor, a blond with cleavage, a nervous secretary, a pompous lawyer, a mystery man named Blackie and a couple of swell sophisticates, Rick and Rhoda St. George, who behave like Nick and Nora on a bender. Naturally, the St. Georges and the cousins compare theories, the cousins are framed for the jewel heist and they wind up held at gunpoint even though they're innocent. With a nudge or two from Rick, Rhoda and the komondor, they ultimately reveal all. Sure, it's silly, and the outcome passes belief, but there are moments when the St. Georges' patter and wardrobe and love of martinis are absolutely intoxicating.

Product Details

HarperCollins Publishers
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Bed-and-Breakfast Series , #21
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Read an Excerpt

Dead Man Docking

Chapter One

Judith McMonigle Flynn winced, flinched, and grimaced as she held the phone as far as possible from her ear. Cousin Renie was screaming obscenities at the other end and throwing in an occasional death threat. Unable to listen any longer, Judith severed the connection.

A minute later, she was swallowing two aspirin when the phone rang again. Reluctantly, Judith answered.

"What happened'" Renie asked in a more normal voice. "We got cut off."

"I hung up," Judith replied. "Your ranting gave me a headache."

"You have a headache'" Renie shot back, her words climbing several decibels. "How about me' I've never been fired before in my life."

"Cruz Cruises didn't exactly fire you," Judith pointed out. "Moving their corporate offices to San Francisco means you can't have your usual hands-on control of their design work.You've still got plenty of clients. And," she warned, "if you start yelling again I'll hang up again."

Renie, known to the professional world as Serena Jones of CaJones Graphic Design, snarled into the phone. "Okay, okay. But they were a big source of my income with all those cruise magazines and hefty brochures and other promos that require artwork. I'm calling Bill's brother Bub and telling him to sue the pants off of Cruz Cruises. It won't cost me a dime, because Bub's such a good guy when it comes to family. If Magglio Cruz looks him up in Martindale-Gobble or whatever the ABA reference book is called, he'll see Bub has really impressive credentials."

Judith was aware that Bub Jones -- whose real name was Millard -- had had a very successful career as the senior partnerin a large local law firm. Bub was also a man of integrity, despite his one eccentricity, which was wearing wigs to cover his baldness. Bub owned an office wig, a golf wig, a party wig, a trial wig, and a picnic wig.At home, he wore a baseball cap Renie had given him as a Christmas present many years earlier. The cap bore the words WISH YOU WERE HAIR.

"Good luck," Judith said to Renie.

Setting the phone down on the kitchen counter, Judith gazed out through the window above the sink. It was raining, typical Pacific Northwest March weather. It had been raining since November with only an occasional glimpse of sun and one brief January snowfall to break the monotony. Even a native like Judith yearned for a clear day.

Her dark eyes roamed to the reservation book she kept next to the computer. Only two of Hillside Manor B&B's six rooms would be occupied on this Wednesday night. There were three reservations for Thursday, but all of the rooms were booked through the weekend, thanks to St. Patrick's Day falling on Monday. The rest of next week looked thin. Maybe she could take time out to get her hair dyed.

Joe Flynn wandered into the kitchen, seeking a coffee refill.

Judith ran her fingers though her silver-streaked tresses. "I'm thinking about having some blond highlights put in at Chez Steve's Salon.Would you like that'"

"As opposed to this last dye job that makes you look like a skunk'" Joe nodded. "Yes, you'd look terrific with a touch of shimmering gold." He kissed her forehead. "What gave you that idea'"

"It worked wonders for Kristin," she said, referring to their daughter-in-law, who had somehow resolved a personal crisis the previous June by changing her hair color. "Maybe," Judith went on, "it'll pep me up. I'm running on fumes these days."

Judith had started to turn gray in her late teens, just as her mother had done. She'd dyed her hair for years, but after her first husband, Dan McMonigle, died, she'd let the black grow out, and had been silver-haired since her forties.Years passed before Renie finally convinced Judith that she'd look much better with at least some of her original color. Never one to make changes easily, Judith allowed almost another decade to pass before she heeded her cousin's advice. But now she was ready for an even more drastic transformation.

"Why don't you lighten up all your hair'" Joe suggested. "Maybe go brunette, close to your natural color."

Judith knew what Joe really meant. He was right -- gold and raven hair might look harsh in middle age. Not wanting to give herself the chance to change her mind, Judith dialed the salon's number and made an appointment for nine o'clock the following Tuesday.

As the days passed by -- still raining, and with occasional gusty winds -- Judith began to get excited about her new look.A few more reservations trickled in. She kept busy, and it was Saturday afternoon before she realized she hadn't heard from Renie.They usually spoke to each other at least once a day.They were both only children, and had grown up more like sisters than cousins.

Just before preparing the appetizers for the guests' social hour, Judith dialed Renie's number. The voice that answered on the other end was almost unrecognizable.

"Is that you, coz'" she asked, knowing it couldn't be Bill since he hated the telephone as much as Judith's mother did.

"I'm pouting," Renie replied. "I've been pouting since Wednesday."

"You can really pout," Judith said, "but you usually don't do it for more than a day.What's wrong now'"

"The same thing that was wrong when I last talked to you," Renie retorted. "That damned cruise line. I haven't heard back since I threatened them with Bub."

"It's only been two full working days," Judith pointed out. "They have to check with their Suits in response to your Suit."

"My Wig, you mean," Renie corrected. "I always refer to Bub as my Wig, not my Suit."

Dead Man Docking. Copyright © by Mary Daheim. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.

Meet the Author

Mary Richardson Daheim is a Seattle native with a communications degree from the University of Washington. Realizing at an early age that getting published in books with real covers might elude her for years, she worked on daily newspapers and in public relations to help avoid her creditors. She lives in her hometown in a century-old house not unlike Hillside Manor, except for the body count. Daheim is also the author of the Alpine mystery series, the mother of three daughters, and has three grandchildren.

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