Red Hot Murder: An Angie Amalfi Mystery

Red Hot Murder: An Angie Amalfi Mystery

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by Joanne Pence

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Dilettante chef Angie Amalfi doubts if she'll actually survive her engagement to San Francisco homicide detective Paavo Smith, what with her meddling mom micromanaging the whole affair. So Angie leaps at the chance to spend some time away with her fiancé in the sun–drenched Arizona desert town where he'd spent time as a boy –– and maybe

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Dilettante chef Angie Amalfi doubts if she'll actually survive her engagement to San Francisco homicide detective Paavo Smith, what with her meddling mom micromanaging the whole affair. So Angie leaps at the chance to spend some time away with her fiancé in the sun–drenched Arizona desert town where he'd spent time as a boy –– and maybe explore the possibility of a Southwestern–themed wedding feast.

But her groom–to–be is going back there to help a friend investigate the murder of a wealthy local –– and it seems this tiny desert community is a hotbed of deadly secrets. And when a second course of murder is served up, suddenly Angie's tasty getaway with her lover is starting to look more and more like her final meal.

Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly
At the start of Pence's amusing 13th Angie Amalfi mystery, the sometime chef and her San Francisco homicide detective fianc , Paavo Smith, are off to reconnect with childhood friends of Paavo's in Jackpot, Ariz., where they'll be staying at the Ghost Hollow Guest Ranch (ostriches, not cattle). On arrival in town, Paavo's old chum, Ned Paulson, fails to meet them as planned. Unfortunately, while off looking for a long-missing stagecoach containing a famous chef from the Waldorf and a pile of money, Ned has been bashed in the head and left in a desert cave. Somehow, during a cook-off for the annual ranch picnic against a local diner owner-who garnishes her rabbit stew with horned toad-Angie manages to figure out the complex inner workings of a very small town (pop. 917) and find the reality behind the polite faces. Good repartee between the lovers, funny (think amorous ostrich) situations, a secret marriage, a surprising d nouement and a great recipe for bourbon pecan pie make this the perfect vacation read. (Feb.) Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.

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HarperCollins Publishers
Publication date:
Angie Amalfi Series , #13
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Red Hot Murder

An Angie Amalfi Mystery
By Joanne Pence

HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.

Copyright © 2005 Joanne Pence
All right reserved.

ISBN: 0060758058

Chapter One

On a bridge midway over the Colorado River, Angie Amalfi read the Welcome to Arizona sign. Her heart palpitated, her breathing quickened, and her feet tingled as a feeling of warmth, well-being, and certainty filled her. Above her head like a bubble in a cartoon strip, she was sure the words "Destination Wedding Locale" danced in red neon letters.

Not only was this going to be the perfect place for the perfect wedding, but that she'd found it on her very first try was nothing short of remarkable. Something told her Jackpot, Arizona, would be a memorable spot -- from the moment her fiancé, San Francisco Homicide Inspector Paavo Smith, suddenly announced that he planned to spend a week there.

Before then, she'd never even heard of Jackpot, so when Paavo mentioned that he had spent time there as a boy, she was stunned. Paavo was close-mouthed, true, but to have kept an entire chunk of his childhood from her was maddening. She was doing all she could to get him to open up, and usually she thought she'd succeeded. But every so often he threw her a curve that left her gasping.

This was one of those times.

While he claimed to be a "private person," she was someone who believed that it was necessary for people to share their feelings. As a matter of fact, she'd speak her thoughts to anyone who'd listen, always interested to hear the response. If not, what was the difference between being with a real live person and being with a statue in a dark, stuffy museum?

That was why, as soon as she learned about Jackpot, wild horses couldn't keep her from joining Paavo to see it for herself. And the more she learned about the area, she realized wild horses -- bucking broncos, mustangs, stallions -- and plenty of other large, intimidating four-legged beasts might well be in her future.

No matter. The trip was a way to learn more about her taciturn fiancé. And if she just happened to find an interesting and unique wedding locale at the same time . . . well, who ever said killing two birds with one stone was a bad thing?

Just getting there had been an adventure. They'd flown from SFO to Palm Springs, California, and rented a car. Paavo had wanted a four-wheel-drive truck, she wanted a Beemer. When they found a four-wheel-drive Mercedes SUV, they'd compromised. The drive to Jackpot took over three hours.

Angie had to admit, though, to being impressed. The sky was a brilliant turquoise and the desert stretched out like a butternut sea of rolling sand and gravel, dotted with saguaro, barrel cactus, sage, and scrub. Precariously balanced red and granite rock piles, high crags, and jagged ridges of low-lying hills touched the horizon.

She'd never been deep into the desert before and found the land harsh in its emptiness, yet it held a quiet, naked beauty that intrigued and mystified her.

Turning off the interstate, they'd edged the river, driving along a two-lane road until a small, dusty town appeared in the flatness.

"There it is," Paavo said, and Angie felt anticipation bubble up inside.

Paavo had explained that Jackpot, Arizona, a town of 912 permanent residents, quadrupled in size in winter when the "snow birds" arrived to get away from harsh northern climates. Each spring they'd leave, complaining that the land was too hot and dry and spindly, and Jackpot would once again become as lonely as the desert surrounding it.

Now that the warm days of spring were rapidly hurtling toward a fiery summer, the town should be quiet.

She knew that going back to a place he'd spent time in as a child was bringing back lots of memories to Paavo. Some happy, others not.

She reached over and grasped his arm, giving him a smile of support. He lightly patted her hand, glancing at her briefly before his eyes returned to the road, letting her know he appreciated her understanding.

When Paavo was very young, his father had died, and for reasons he'd only recently came to understand, his mother had abandoned him. A Finnish friend of his parents, Aulis Kokkonen, raised him.

Years ago Aulis became good friends with a Dr. Loomis Griggs who was in San Francisco studying at the University of California Medical Center. Now Doc Griggs lived just outside Jackpot, where, prior to his retirement, he'd been the town's doctor as well as the doctor at the nearby Colorado River Indian Reservation. When Paavo was young, Doc invited Aulis and Paavo to spend time with him on his ranch. Paavo had gone there three times, at ages seven, nine, and twelve. They were three of his most memorable summers. After that, being a teenager in a big city, he thought himself much too "cool" to go on a vacation to a small town and ranch with his guardian. And, as Aulis grew older and Doc busier, their visits also stopped.

Still, the two men kept in touch. Last week, Aulis received a phone call from him. Doc said some troubling things had happened in the town surrounding the death of a former patient, a man in his seventies, named Hal Edwards. But Doc wasn't one to fret unnecessarily.

Still, Aulis had sensed some real worry beneath Doc's jovial and garrulous manner. Sensing Aulis's concern after speaking with him, Paavo phoned Dr. Griggs. Just hearing the familiar gravelly voice brought back many fond memories. Doc tried to blow off Paavo's and Aulis's concerns, declaring he was just a foolish retiree with too much time on his hands. But he protested too much, and the more Doc said nothing was wrong, the more Paavo sensed just the opposite.

He also realized how much he'd loved that old man as a boy, and how much he'd missed seeing him. It was time to remedy that. Paavo's workdays were spent investigating suspicious deaths. He'd make sure nothing was amiss or if . . .


Excerpted from Red Hot Murder by Joanne Pence Copyright © 2005 by Joanne Pence. 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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