Legs Benedict (Bed-and-Breakfast Series #14)

Legs Benedict (Bed-and-Breakfast Series #14)

by Mary Daheim
Legs Benedict (Bed-and-Breakfast Series #14)

Legs Benedict (Bed-and-Breakfast Series #14)

by Mary Daheim

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Overview

A week of "mayhem-as-usual" at Hillside Manor kicks off with the arrival of a mysterious "Mr. Smith" and his floozie "Mrs." from New York City—and it accelerates into chaos when Mr. Smith himself kicks off, a victim of the foulest of plays. Hostess Judith McMonigle Flynn is shocked to learn that her now-defunct roomer was actually "Legs" Benedict—hit man for the notorious Ronzini Family—and that virtually every other guests at her B&B had good reason to want Legs broken. Judith's policeman-hubby Joe is understandably peeved that homicide happened (again!) under his own roof. And when the FBI moves in—more interested in nabbing a Nazi nutcase than a malicious mobster murderer—the local cops clear out, leaving Judith, Joe and irrepressible cousin Renie to find out who whacked the wiseguy before the hits keep coming.


Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780061737244
Publisher: HarperCollins
Publication date: 10/13/2009
Series: Bed-and-Breakfast Series , #14
Sold by: HARPERCOLLINS
Format: eBook
Pages: 320
Sales rank: 245,962
File size: 574 KB

About the Author

About 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.

Read an Excerpt

Legs Benedict:

A Bed-And-breakfast Mystery
By Mary Daheim

HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.

Copyright ©2006 Mary Daheim
All right reserved.

ISBN: 0380800780

Chapter One

Judith McMonigle Flynn stared at the blank computer screen, hit several keys in succession, and swore out loud. "I'm ruined!" she exclaimed, running frantic fingers through her silver-streaked dark hair. "I'm helpless! All the B&B reservations for the next two weeks have fallen into a big, black hole!"

"No, they haven't," her cousin Renie said in a matter-of-fact voice as she came to stand behind Judith. "Move it, coz. Let me show you something." Renie pressed a single key, and the screen scrolled down. "There you go. Somehow, you put a bunch of white space at the top. We delete that . . ." Renie pressed another key. "And here comes the Hillside Manor guest list."

"Ah!" Judith put a hand to her bosom and leaned back in the chair. "Thanks, coz. I was really upset there for a minute. This thing has been giving me fits the last few days."

"You're still learning," Reme said, gazing at the names, addresses, and phone numbers that now appeared on the screen. "Even after all these years of working with a computer, I still hit something by mistake, and weird stuff happens. Frankly, you should be using some kind of B&B program. Your system is pretty clumsy."

"No, it's not," Judith said, on thedefensive. "I use Email for almost half my reservations, and all the ones from overseas. Then I type them in and can use the word-processing part of the computer for letters and Christmas card lists and all the other stuff. How is that clumsy?"

Renie shrugged. "You'd make life easier if you had a real program," she insisted, still looking at-the screen. "I'm sure they're available for B&Bs. Why don't you call... Hey, since when have you been reserving rooms for Mr. and Mrs. John Smith?" Renie pointed to the names on the middle of the screen.

"That's Mr. Smith's name," Judith replied. "Your last name is Jones. Some people really are named John Smith."

"With a P.O. box in New York City?" Renie was skeptical.

"He explained that on the phone," Judith said in a reasonable tone. "He lives in an apartment in Manhattan and it's easier for him to pick up his mail at the post office."

Renie shrugged. "I thought people in Manhattan had doormen to take in the mail. But you know best. You've been in the B&B business for nine years. There can't be many surprises left."

Judith studied the screen. "Actually, there can be. That's one reason I enjoy innkeeping. But most of all," she added, more to herself than to Renie, "I love the people."

Renie was smiling. "We may be as close as sisters, coz, but we're different in a lot of ways. I prefer to conduct my graphic design business from the basement where no one can find me."

"Right . . . yes." Judith was still peering at the screen. "You know, this is sort of weird. Five of the six rooms booked for next Monday are for two nights. They all booked within hours of each other, and none of them used E-mail. They phoned." She ran a finger down the screen, indicating the reservations for Doria, Peri, Santori, Schwartz, and Smith. "Why is that weird?" asked Reme. "They're for the third week of June. School's out, everybody's on the move. When did the requests come in?"

Judith glanced up at the old schoolhouse clock. "Between eight and eleven-thirty this morning." It was now a few minutes after noon. "The sixth reservation was made a month ago, by a couple from Minneapolis."

Renie shrugged, then lighted a cigarette. "As far as I'm concerned what's weird is that you had any openings this time of year. Aren't you usually booked solid from Memorial Day through Labor Day?"

Judith winced as Renie exhaled. "Not in mid-June. Generally, there's about a ten-day lull. The locals know and the tourists have caught on that it always rains in the Pacific Northwest right after school gets out. Coz," she continued, unable to hide her exasperation, "do you have to smoke in here?"

"Why not? Your mother does. And Joe has his cigars." Reme flicked ash into the sink.

"I almost never let Mother smoke inside, and Joe never smokes anywhere but up in our family quarters on the third floor. Sometimes I wish you'd go back to eating like a disgusting pig."

"Not me," Renie replied breezily. "My dry cleaning bills have gone way down. You know how messy I am when I eat. Now I just drop live ashes and set my clothes on fire. That way, I never have to clean them."

Judith uttered a beleaguered sigh, though she knew that Renie was more or less speaking the truth. Her cousin's obsession with food had often driven Judith crazy over the years, in part because no matter how much Renie ate, she never got fat. Conversely, Judith was always watching her weight. "Statuesque" was her favorite self-description, and at five-foot-nine, she could afford a few extra pounds. Or so she told herself when she dared to get on the scale.

"If you go on smoking here," Judith threatened, "I'll have to bar you from the house."

"If I go on smoking," Renie countered, "you're afraid you'll start again. Besides, since Bill retired from the university at the end of this past quarter, we're trying out hobbies we can share. He's started smoking, too."

"Aaargh!" Judith twirled around, arms covering her head. "I don't believe it! Bill's like Joe, he never smokes anything but cigars!"

"He does now. We may even take up pot." Renie flicked more ashes in the sink. "Got to go, coz. I have a meeting downtown at one."

For once, Judith was relieved to see Renie depart. The phone was ringing; the cleaning woman, Phyliss Rackley, was yelling from the basement; and Sweetums had scooted through the open back door where he was sitting in the pantry, batting at cans of cat food.

Continues...


Excerpted from Legs Benedict: by Mary Daheim Copyright ©2006 by Mary Daheim. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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