Martha Rose is stunned when she hears that her best friend from high school has passed away. Her shock doubles when she learns that Harriet Oliver made her the executor of her estate. But when investigators determine that Harriet was murdered, Martha recruits her fellow quilters to help find the culprit. She's mastered the art of piecing together blocks to create intricate quilts, but piecing together her friend's murder will prove far more challenging. . .
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So far, the morning mail only yielded credit card invitations, an interesting flyer for yoga classes, and now that I belonged to AARP — another postcard advertising the Neptune Society. I picked up a white number ten envelope, glanced at the unfamiliar return address, and almost tossed it in the junk pile, but something stopped me.
First, my full legal name, Martha Rivka Rose, appeared above my address. I never used Rivka. Second, the envelope looked official, not part of a mass mailing. The law offices of Abernathy, Porter & Salinger of Los Angeles, California, paid full price for the stamp.
I reached for the white plastic letter opener, a prize I received from the UCLA Department of Internal Medicine after having my first colonoscopy. The envelope tore neatly along the top fold, and I pulled out a one-page letter.
Dear Ms. Rose,
We regret to inform you of the death of Mrs.
Harriet Gordon Oliver. You have been named the executor of her estate. Please contact me personally at your earliest convenience to initiate the process of probating her will.
Very truly yours,Deacon "Deke" Abernathy, Esq.
Harriet died? I hadn't heard from her in over twenty years. We'd been best friends in high school. She moved to Rhode Island with a scholarship to Brown, while I lived at home and attended UCLA. Years later, she returned to Los Angeles with her husband, Nathan Oliver, a fellow Brown graduate. I had married Aaron Rose, a local boy finishing his psychiatric residency at LA County Hospital. Harriet and I reconnected at our tenth high school reunion in the late 1980s.
Since we all lived in Brentwood, a tony part of the west side, we met a few times for dinner. Harriet and her East Coast husband collected wine and art, while Aaron and I focused on raising our three-year-old daughter and paying the mortgage on our much smaller home. Eventually even the dinners stopped. By the time I divorced Aaron and relocated to a not-so-tony part of Encino in the San Fernando Valley, Harriet and I had already drifted apart.
Now, sadly, she was dead at the age of fifty-five. What took her so young? What about her husband? Children? The more I thought about the letter, the more questions I had.
I telephoned the number Deacon Abernathy gave me.
"Mr. Abernathy? My name is Martha Rose. I just received your letter about Harriet Oliver."
"Oh, right. Thanks for calling, Ms. Rose. We have some details to go over, including Mrs. Oliver's funeral instructions. How soon can you come to my office?"
"Wait a minute. Please slow down. When did Harriet die? How did she die?"
"I'm sorry. Got ahead of myself. Has it been awhile since you spoke to Mrs. Oliver?"
"That explains our problem locating you. We only had your old Brentwood address to go by. Under the circumstances, I guess I'm not surprised."
"What do you mean, circumstances? What's going on?"
"There's no delicate way to say this, Ms. Rose. We discovered Mrs. Oliver's body in her home about three weeks ago. The coroner estimated she'd been dead for at least ten months."
Thank goodness I was already sitting. My ears started ringing and a black circle closed out my peripheral vision. I envisioned horrible pictures of desiccated corpses and skulls with gaping jaws. "Ten months? Didn't she have family? What about her husband?"
"It's too complicated to explain over the phone. The thing is, Mrs. Oliver hasn't been buried yet. We needed to wait until we located the executor to make certain, ah, decisions. So, you can appreciate, Ms. Rose, the sooner you get here, the sooner we can, ah, lay her to rest."
Poor Harriet. How was it possible nobody missed her? She'd been such a vibrant and pretty teenager with long black hair she ironed straight every morning before school. During our sleepovers we whispered about our plans for college, our hopes for the future and which girls slept with their boyfriends. When she left for Brown, we hugged and cried and promised to write letters every day. But time and distance slowed our friendship. With the exception of our brief reunion in Brentwood, we moved into completely separate lives.
I shuddered at the thought of her body lying unattended for ten months. It really bothered me that nobody missed her. Didn't the neighbors notice any bad odors? I agreed to meet the attorney at the Westwood office of Abernathy, Porter & Salinger later in the afternoon.
After ending my conversation with Deacon Abernathy, I gave my shoulder- length gray curls a once-over with a wide-toothed comb. Then I stuffed my Jacob's Ladder quilt, sewing kit, and an emergency package of M&Ms into a large red tote bag and headed for my best friend Lucy Mondello's house. Today was Tuesday, and I never missed our weekly quilting group. I drove in a daze, trying to make sense of the shocking news about Harriet's death. What a horrendous way to go — alone and evidently forgotten.
I maneuvered my way across Ventura Boulevard and wound around a couple of side streets before pulling up in front of my friend's house. The boulevard served as a natural dividing line between classes in Encino, one of the many small communities in the San Fernando Valley. Small homes, condos, and apartment buildings sat on the valley floor north of the boulevard. That was where I lived, in a tract of medium-priced midcentury houses. Residences south of the boulevard — especially those constructed in the foothills of the Santa Monica Mountains — tended to be large, custom- designed, and très expensive. Lucy lived somewhere in between: south of the boulevard but not in the hills, gracious home but not a McMansion.
She smiled and greeted me as I pushed open the front door. "Hey, girlfriend. You're a little late. Everything okay?"
Lucy always dressed with a theme. Today she wore canary yellow twill slacks, a yellow-and-white-striped long-sleeved T-shirt, and dangly citrine earrings. Her bright orange hair looked freshly colored and her eyebrows perfectly drawn. Even at sixty-something she could have been a model. I, on the other hand, wore my usual size-sixteen stretch denim jeans and T-shirt straining under my ample bosom.
"I just dealt with a last-minute phone call. Give me a sec and I'll tell you all about it." I settled down in one of the cozy blue overstuffed chairs in Lucy's casual living room.
Every few years she changed the dÃ(c)cor in her home the same way she changed her daily outfits. This latest version evoked an elegant cabin: furniture upholstered in richly colored woolen fabrics, Navajo rugs, and a coffee table made of polished burled tree roots. Above the fireplace hung a reproduction of a yellow Remington painting of longhorn cattle. The room screamed Wyoming, where both Lucy and her husband, Ray, were born and raised.
"Did the call upset you? You look a bit peaky, dear." That was Birdie Watson, Lucy's across-the street neighbor and the third member of our small sewing circle.
"I got a letter from an attorney in LA this morning asking me to call." I fitted my multicolored Jacob's Ladder quilt in a fourteen-inch wooden hoop. The Jacob's Ladder block featured lots of little squares and larger triangles of contrasting light and dark materials. The more fabrics, the more interesting the quilt, and this one featured dozens of different cotton prints. I threaded a needle with red quilting thread and related the story about Harriet's death and my surprise at being named executor of her will. "The creepy thing is, she died more than ten months before they discovered her body."
"How awful!" Birdie, naturally predisposed to worry about people, frowned and twisted the end of her long white braid. In her mid-seventies, Birdie looked like an old farmer. She always wore the same thing: white T-shirt (short sleeves in summer, long sleeves in winter), denim overalls, and Birkenstock sandals (with socks) to accommodate her arthritic knees.
Lucy handed me a cup of coffee with milk. "You must have been close for her to make you executor. Yet, I don't think I've ever heard you mention her name before."
"We were best friends growing up." I told them how our teenage friendship failed to survive our adult lifestyles. "After I moved to Encino, everyone in West LA forgot about me, including Harriet."
Lucy shook her head. "Well, obviously she didn't forget about you. Do you know what happened to her husband?"
"I wish I knew more of the details. I have an appointment with the lawyer this afternoon to get poor Harriet buried. He said he'd explain everything then."
Birdie tilted her head. "So you've decided to go through with becoming the executor? Not knowing what's involved?"
How could I say this without sounding morbid? "I want to do one last favor for an old friend."
And I'm curious.
Lucy narrowed her eyes. "Uh-oh. Please tell me you're not going to get involved in another one of those again."
Lucy's voice sounded more than a tad disapproving as she alluded to my recent penchant for discovering dead bodies and getting sucked into murder investigations. And both times the killers came after me. "This is way different, Lucy. First of all, the attorney never said anything about murder here. Second of all, being the executor of someone's estate only involves signing papers and selling stuff. There's nothing to worry about. What could be more straightforward?"
My redheaded friend shivered a little. "You know, Martha, I'm getting a strong feeling about this." Lucy swore she possessed ESP and could tell when something bad was going to happen.
In the past, I'd dismissed her feelings as some kind of displaced anxiety. But if I were honest, I'd have to admit that in the last several months her warnings turned out to be valid. Still, the lawyer gave no indication poor Harriet's death was anything more than tragic and premature.
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Lucy. Don't you think I've learned my lesson? Don't you think I'd run straight to the police at the first sign of something suspicious?"
Without hesitation, Lucy and Birdie responded in unison, "No!"CHAPTER 2
The law offices of Abernathy, Porter & Salinger were located in a black glass high-rise on the corner of Wilshire Boulevard and Federal Avenue in West LA, where parking cost five dollars for every fifteen minutes.
I stepped off the elevator into a plush suite of offices occupying the entire tenth floor. The reception area, situated in the south side of the building, revealed spectacular views of the Pacific Ocean all the way down to Palos Verdes and west to Catalina Island. The late-afternoon December sun striped the horizon in shades of pink and gold. Harriet must have been very well off to afford an attorney in this luxury setting. I was glad I wore a dress for the meeting.
"May I help you?"
I tore my eyes from the stunning view and approached a male receptionist sitting behind an antique walnut desk. A head of short, bleached hair appeared almost white in contrast to his latte skin. He blinked his eyes once, and a flash of black eyeliner caught my attention. Another part of LA's rich diversity I loved so much.
"Martha Rose for Deacon Abernathy."
He pressed a button on a console and spoke into a headset, then smiled warmly and gestured toward the waiting area. "Mr. Abernathy will be free in a couple of minutes. Please make yourself comfortable. May I get you some water? Coffee? Soda?"
"No, thanks." I returned the smile.
I sat in a chair upholstered in plum leather and gazed at the sunset, calculating how much each minute of waiting would cost me in parking fees. I had reached three dollars and forty cents when a slender woman wearing glasses walked efficiently toward me.
"Ms. Rose? I'm Mr. Abernathy's assistant, Nina. Sorry for the wait. He's most anxious to meet you. Will you please follow me?"
We moved down a long corridor decorated in original art to a huge corner office with a jaw-dropping view not only of the sunset but of the Veterans Administration to the east and the UCLA campus beyond. Vivaldi played soothingly in the background. If your name came first on the door, you could command the best office.
A thickset man with a receding hairline stood and came round his desk with his shirt sleeves rolled up, and shook my hand vigorously. "Ms. Rose, I'm Deacon Abernathy, but everyone calls me 'Deke.'" Abernathy looked like a former athlete gone soft around the middle, probably thanks to decades of steak dinners and martini lunches. He led me to a comfortable sofa and sat in a chair facing me, across a coffee table with two glasses of ice water. Something about this guy seemed familiar, but I couldn't quite place him.
I took a deep breath. "Please tell me about Harriet."
He tented his fingers and pressed them against his lips. "I've been Harriet's attorney for years. Our firm handled both her legal and her financial affairs. I tried contacting her recently. Some investment transactions needed her signature. When she failed to return my calls, I became alarmed and drove to her house. Nobody answered the door, so I went round to the back. Nothing looked out of place. The gardener still tended the grounds, but everything was quiet. Too quiet. I suspected something terrible had happened and called the police. They forced their way into the house and found her dead."
My skin crawled. "How did she die?"
He coughed and covered his mouth. A slight tremor rippled through his hand. Was the poor man trying to hide his emotions? "The coroner couldn't determine the cause of death because of the state of her body. The police found no obvious sign of foul play. She could've suffered a heart attack."
"Oh God." My mouth felt dry; I reached for a glass of water. "What about her husband, Nathan? Did they have children?"
"One son, Jonah, was born in 1990 but died at the age of five in a tragic accident."
This story grew worse and worse. "How?"
"Nathan took him on a charter boat to Catalina Island for a father/son fishing trip. Apparently the boy wasn't wearing a proper life jacket. He fell overboard and went under. Some fishermen dove in the water, but by the time one of them could find him and pull him out of the ocean, the child was dead."
Poor Harriet. The death of her son was the second tragedy in her life. At nine, her twin brother, David, died under the wheels of a bus. Now she'd faced a similar horror years later with her son.
Nina, the assistant, materialized with a bottle of Pinot Grigio on a large silver tray with two wineglasses, platters of tapas — mini open-faced sandwiches — and ceviche served with tiny forks. She set the tray on the coffee table and offered me a glass, but I shook my head. I had to drive back home.
Abernathy handed me a napkin. "We offer happy hour to our clerks and associates on Tuesdays. Go on, help yourself."
"Thanks, but I'm not hungry." I usually enjoyed a warm and fuzzy relationship with food. However, as Harriet's story unfolded, I lost my appetite. Abernathy, on the other hand, shrugged and poured himself a generous drink and tucked into the raw fish with gusto.
My grandmother, who raised me, may she rest in peace, would rather have poked her eye out with a fork than eaten in front of someone else. She communicated through food. If any guest of Bubbie's refused to eat, she coaxed, cajoled, and wheedled until he gave in. Just a small sliver. You need your strength. What. You don't like my cooking? It worked every time.
Nina slipped quietly out of the office and I waited until Abernathy had washed down the food with more wine.
"What happened to Nathan?"
He wiped his mouth with a cocktail napkin and once again his hand trembled. Maybe he suffered a neurological problem.
"About two years after the boy's death, Nathan disappeared. Must've been the guilt. He left behind a note saying he intended to go back out to sea, to the place where Jonah died and join his son. We never found his body."
I thought about all the episodes of Cold Case Files on TV. "What if he didn't kill himself? What if he just wanted to run away?"
"Naturally, we thought of that and hired detectives to search for him. But Nathan Oliver vanished. After seven years, without a trace, and on the strength of his suicide note, we had him declared legally dead."
"What about her parents?" Herschel and Lilly Gordon, both Holocaust survivors, had been older when Harriet and her brother, David, were born. They avoided mentioning the aunts, uncles, and cousins who died in the camps. And like most survivors, they were overprotective.
"Both dead. No other living relatives."(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Gone But Knot Forgotten"
Copyright © 2015 Mary Marks.
Excerpted by permission of KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP..
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.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
Martha Rose would prefer to leave murder out, but she enlists her best friends and fellow quilters in executing her childhood friend's will and solving the mystery of her murder. A true cozy, it was fun to visit West L.A. and environs and watch Martha analyze, deduce, and investigate!
Once again Ms Marks has created the perfect story with just the right amount of twists and turns and the surprise of who her boyfriend Yossef turns out to be is over the top. I just love this series. The books never drag, they’re full of energy and surprises and the only thing you might be able to assume is that in the end Martha always gets the bad guy, but you can’t be certain of that till you actually get to the end.
Title: Gone But Knot Forgotten - Quilting Mystery Book 3 Author: Mary Marks Published: 8-25-2015 Publisher: Kensington Books Pages: 288 Genre: Mystery, Thrillers & Suspense Sub Genre: Crafts & Homes ISBN: 9780758292094 ASIN: Reviewer: DelAnne Reviewed For: NetGalley . Martha Rose is names the executor of her old school friend, Harriet Oliver's estate. Harriet has become something of a recluse and hidden away form the public. As Martha begins going the her friend's things to settle her estate it is discovered that Harriet was actually murdered. Melody and her fellow quilters rally together to piece the clues together and find the killer. The characters are so lovable, each a little quirky in their own way such as Lucy who believes she is psychic; Yossi "Crusher" Levy, police officer and Martha's boyfriend. All the characters are so well developed and described that they are easy to picture them in our mind's eye. You feel you know them and are friends. Mary Marks and her characters will keep you coming back again and again to check up on your old friends. Her style of writing is full of twist and turns to keep you guessing as to the killer's identity till the very end.
What better to go with a cozy murder mystery than comfy quilting and all its paraphernalia? Author Mary Marks blends quilting with suspense and murder in her latest release, GONE BUT KNOT FORGOTTEN, the third installment in her Quilting Mysteries series. While there are quilting tips, techniques and talk throughout the book, readers don’t have to enjoy the craft to savor the mystery. Marks creates realistic, likable characters readers can relate to. The characters’ interaction quickly draws readers in and the suspense holds them pinned to the pages until the very end. The close friendship element enhances the story. The author’s rich details adds depth, while her vivid descriptions places the reader among the characters. Marks supplies all the right pieces for a intriguing cozy murder mystery in this story. FTC Full Disclosure – A copy of this book was sent to me as part of the author’s virtual book tour in hopes I would review it. However, receiving the complimentary copy did not influence my review. The thoughts are completely my own and given honestly and freely.
Make sure you get a copy of this book! A page-turning read that I finished in one sitting, it keeps you on your toes, and in stitches, by turn. The victim's death in this mystery is neither "fresh", nor "cold case", as audiences will most often find in this genre. I thought the choice of having the death be some time past, but not a great amount, made this work quite interesting - a refreshing, unique spin on an oft told tale. I seem to have a penchant for finding a new series and inadvertently starting a few books in. This is the third title in the Quilting Mysteries series, and I'm definitely going to have to go back and read the others! Ms. Marks does a wonderful job of referencing previous events, but with just enough extra explanation that the reader doesn't feel on the edge of the "in the know" group, and can enjoy the fullness of the story. I love these characters! They feel like real people, not caricatures of a certain type of person. Everyone I've met has a group of characters they wish could step off the page, and hang out with them. Martha, Lucy and Birdie are on my list! They are so funny, and experiencing their antics throughout the near-perfect pacing of this work makes the story so much fun to read. As a history nut, the historical, and historical fiction aspects woven into the tale really set this book apart for me. I found the attention to detail in creating the items throughout the house for the reader was incredible, and really showed just how much care Ms. Marks has for her craft. In all, it looks like I will have to make a new space on my shelves for this and other works by Ms. Mary Marks!
This is the third book in "A Quilting Mystery" series, but this book was fine without reading the other 2. Martha Rose is named the Executrix of the estate of a childhood friend. She has not seen her in years and is surprised. Adding to the surprise, she finds out that Harriet was dead in her house for 10 months before she is found. At the autopsy, it is determined that she did not die of natural causes. The estate is worth millions and there are many items that are missing. With help from her two quilting buddies, her boyfriend Yossi and his pals, Martha is able to uncover what happened to Harriet. There are several twists to the story, one involving the Declaration of Indendependance Quilt and another regarding the disappearance of Harriet's husband 13 years earlier that make this story very interesting and entertaining. I like how she was able to add in several cultural and historical aspects of Jewish life and heritage as part of the story. Of course, there is also a storyline pertaining to Martha's romantic life which is another great addition to the story. I will definitely look for more in this series. I received a copy of this book from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.
Author Mary Marks is back with another delight installment of her Quilting Mystery series. Please be assured, you do not have to know how to quilt to enjoy this series, not do you need to have read the first to books in the series to read this one. But it is always fun to go back to the other installments to see how it all started. In GONE BUT KNOT FORGOTTEN, protagonist Martha Rose suddenly finds herself executor to a friend’s estate. A friend she hasn’t seen in twenty years. Things don’t seem right to Martha, and then another body is discovered. Add to that the theft of items worth millions of dollars, and Martha knows she has to get to the bottom of things. I truly enjoy Ms. Mark’s style of writing. I really liked that she explained some of the rituals of a Jewish funeral. I’m Christian and my grandmother was a minister, so learning more about other religions is fascinating to me. GONE BUT KNOT FORGOTTEN was a wonderfully crafted mystery. Ms. Marks takes us through a sleuthing at a perfect pace. There were more twists and turns than a quilt has stitches. More suspects than a few, and questions that felt like there could be no answers to. All leading up to an amazing reveal that had me completely surprised. I look forward to what author Marks has in store for us next!
Ms. Marks has Martha Rose and her two best friends back in the thick of things again. This is the first of her books I have had the pleasure of reading; I found it delightful as only cozy mysteries can be. Martha is Jewish, her two friends, Lucy and Birdie, are not; this does not stop the intrepid trio from being fast and loyal friends, who respect each other, quilt together, and get in scraps together. I loved the fact that Ms. Marks explained a lot of the Jewish traditions especially in regard to the Sabbath and funerals. This added to the story and I loved the information she included, it was educational and interesting as well as adding to the depth of the story. In this book, Ms. Marks has Martha named as the executor of her old high school friend, Harriet Oliver’s estate. Martha hasn’t been in touch with Harriet for years. Harriet’s estate is worth millions and something seems fishy to Martha about the scene of her death. She was not found for 10 months after she died; it appears that Harriet led a sad and solitary life, her son drowned at five, her husband disappeared and was declared dead, and she had few friends. To make things even more interesting, Birdie is a walking talking CSI expert from watching television; she is up on all the latest “speak” in regard to criminal investigation. What follows are plot twists and turns, mysteries, murders, an entire list of suspects, antiques, a priceless quilt and other extremely valuable items are missing, greedy family members, and a body is found buried in Harriet’s garden. Things are really getting interesting in the quilting world. Martha also has new man, Crusher, in her life; will this be the real thing or does he have secrets? Is Martha’s luck about to change in regard to relationships and just why is Arlo Beavers sniffing around again? Sorry, I can’t spoil the story and tell you. There are quite a few plots going on in this story and Ms. Marks did a wonderful job of bringing all the threads together to form a complete and delightful story. You will not be bored with this book. Ms. Marks also included a small tutorial on quilting at the end of the book that I found fascinating. I would recommend this book to anyone that enjoys a solid cozy mystery with a lot of interesting elements, plots, twists, turns, and quilting. I received this book from the publisher and Netgalley in return for an honest review.
Gone but Knot Forgotten by Mary Marks is the third book in A Quilting Mystery series. Martha Rose is fifty-six, Jewish, suffers from migraines and fibromyalgia (I know how she feels). Martha receives a letter stating she is the executor of Harriet Gordon Oliver’s will. Martha has not seen Harriet in over twenty years. They drifted apart after her divorce from Aaron Rose. Martha immediately contact the attorney, Deke Abernathy. Turns out that Martha and Deke were at UCLA at the same time (Deke was a football star). Martha will be responsible for disposing of the assets of the estate and following Harriet’s wishes in her will. Martha feels she should do this for her friend, but she has no idea what she is getting into. Harriet’s only son, Jonah died when he was five years old and her husband disappeared many years ago. Nathan, her husband, was declared dead when he did not return after seven years (and they could not locate him). After arranging for Harriet’s funeral, Martha then checks out Harriet’s house. When she starts checking the insurance inventory against items in the house, there are several Early American antiques missing as well as Harriet’s jewelry. Martha gets help from her weekly quilting group members Lucy and Bertie. They start going through the house item by item. Martha is dog sitting her ex-boyfriend’s dog (he used to be a police dog). The dog starts digging in the backyard. Upon investigation they discover a body. Looks like the have solved the mystery of the disappearing Nathan Oliver. Before Harriet can be buried, it is discovered that Harriet was murdered. Martha feels she needs to find out who killed her friend as well as took items from her house. Martha, Birdie, and Lucy set out to solve the murders as well as discover who took the Early American antiques. Martha decides to keep Harriet’s house under guard. She calls her friend, Yossi Levy (aka Crusher). Crusher is a member of the Valley Eagles (motorcycle club). Two of the members agree to watch the house. Yossi is hoping to get closer to Martha. He proposed once and is determined to get Martha to commit. He slowly starts leaving a few items at Martha’s house each time he stays the night. Martha feels that Yossi is rushing and needs him to back off (I have no idea why). When she finds out something that Yossi kept secret, will Martha break it off? I found Gone but Knot Forgotten to be a pleasurable book to read. It has fun characters and a good mystery. I did not understand why Martha kept pushing away Yossi (maybe something in her past or commitment issues). I wish that it had been explained in the book (it could have been mentioned in the first two books which I have not had a chance to read). Gone but Knot Forgotten can be enjoyed without having read the first two books in the series. I give Gone but Knot Forgotten 4.5 out of 5 stars. It was a pleasure to read this book. I received a complimentary copy of Gone but Knot Forgotten from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. The review and opinions expressed are my own.
What happens when someone you haven't seen in 20 years names you as executor of her estate? The author of A Quilting Mystery series, Mary Marks, tries to answer this and other questions. This is the 1st book I have read in this, so far, series of 4. I'll be on the lookout for the others. A cozy mystery about friends trying to solve a murder case, quilting and food. It doesn't get much better than this. I received an advance copy of this book in exchange for an unbiased review.
Great Series! This is a great series; this is the third book in A Quilting Mystery series by Mary Marks. Martha Rose is a quilter, when she hears that her best friend from high school has passed away and has made her the executor of her estate. When Martha is told that her friend was murdered, she asks her friends and fellow quilters to help find the killer. If you are looking for a great mystery that will keep you guessing until the end, then you need to read this book. I am looking forward to reading the next book in this series. A Review copy was provided to me in exchange for a fair and honest review. The free book held no determination on my personal review.
This is the third book in this series. When Martha Rose sorts her mail, she finds an interesting letter from a law firm. She is shocked to read that her friend Harriet Oliver has died and Martha has been named executor of her estate. Martha’s appointment with the attorney unleashes sad details. It appears Harriet was dead, in her own home, for at least 10 months before her body was discovered. When the mortician prepares the body for burial, he stumbles upon some odd facts, turning the cause of death into a homicide. No one, including Martha, had heard from Harriet for some time and rumor has it that Harriet had become a recluse, leaving her attorney, Deacon “Deke” Abernathy in charge of her finances. Martha’s friends Lucy & Birdie offer to help sort through Harriet’s personal effects, and soon, secrets and betrayals are discovered. When another body is found buried in the backyard, Martha refuses to accept the simple explanation. Martha is determined to find out who killed her friend and will stop at nothing to clear her friend’s name. The twists and turns are amazing, I was left guessing until the very end. I really enjoyed this book and would definitely recommend it to other cozy readers! I received a copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.