By Linda Gerber
It was once just a couple of weeks in the past that Aphra Connolly’s lifestyles replaced thoroughly. She were residing a quiet life on her father’s secluded island hotel, till Seth Mulo became up and stole her middle . . . and supplied details that led her to discover her mother in Seattle. however the reunion isn’t rather what she anticipated. Aphra’s mother, Natalie, doesn’t appear satisfied to determine Aphra, and Natalie’s boyfriend, Joe, insists that Aphra move domestic. Even worse, Seth indicates up, purely to invite her to come back the hoop he gave her the former summer time. no less than Natalie’s hunky neighbor is sympathetic. but if Joe is located lifeless at a close-by espresso store, Aphra discovers her complete journey to Seattle has been in response to a lie. And now a person simply may be attempting to kill her. . . .
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Additional resources for Death by Latte (Death By...)
I opened the back door and threw my backpack onto the seat and then climbed into the front. “Put your seat belt on,” Mom said automatically. I almost laughed. Or would have, if I didn’t feel so much like crying. Sad as it was, that was the first motherly thing she had said to me since I had gotten to Seattle—now that I was leaving. She stuck the keys into the ignition, but she didn’t start the engine. For a long moment she just sat, looking out over the steering wheel—at what, I don’t know. ” She traced the pattern of the leather grip on the steering wheel.
They’ll watch you, hoping Seth will contact you. ” “Hold on. What are you talking about? ” “The Agency. And possibly . . ” “But . ” “Why do you think I stayed away all those years? ” “What about the cards? ” For the first time she smiled. Well, almost. Her lips curved upward, but her eyes were still sad. “I’m glad you got them. ” I decided not to tell her how Dad had kept them from LiNDA GERBER me and that I had only found where he had hidden them a couple of months ago. There’s nothing either of us could do about that.
Latte . ” he wheezed. Well, at least he was breathing. I pressed my fingers to the side of his neck. His pulse was going crazy. He grabbed my hand. “In . . the . ” His words were lost in a spasm of coughing. “The . . list . ” “Cup . . hold . . c-c-up . . ho-holder . ” Suddenly his eyes rolled back and his head jerked like someone had yanked a string at the top of his skull. His grip squeezed like a vise around my hand. I yelped and pried my fin gers free. At the same moment a hand grabbed my shoul der.
Death by Latte (Death By...) by Linda Gerber