Murder is the Pits

Murder is the Pits by J A WHITING AND AMANDA DIAMOND (A Peachtree Point Mystery #2)
English | 2020 | Mystery/Thriller | ePUB | 2.8 MB

Whiting loves spending time with family, reading, traveling, following New England sports teams, exercising, and being outdoors.

The seaside town of Peachtree Point, New Hampshire is preparing for the annual peach festival. The town librarians, Heather and Sylvie, are readying the library for several events when Heather notices Sylvie isn’t her usual self. Her boyfriend, Frank, a high school teacher, and another teacher at the school have been asked to write a play on the history of Peachtree Point, but working together leads to trouble.
Sylvie and Frank’s relationship is in jeopardy, there’s a new detective in town, and someone is murdered during the festival.
Will Heather and Sylvie along with Booker the cat, their family and friends, and the library’s murder posse get to the bottom of the crime before the whole town learns that murder is the pits?

Heather didn’t have to ask which woman Sylvie was referring to. She knew all too well about Arielle Connors, the theatre teacher at the local high school, the same school where Frank, Sylvie’s fiancé, worked.

Arielle and Frank, a high school English teacher, had been seen lately in the Peachtree Diner and other places around town, their heads closely bent over papers and a laptop, laughing and apparently enjoying working together.

Maybe a little too much, Heather thought. Others around town had voiced similar sentiments and it wouldn’t be the first time Arielle had broken up a couple, or even a marriage.

“I wouldn’t be too happy if Paul was working with Arielle.” Heather sank into one of the two chairs in front of Sylvie’s desk. “She doesn’t have the best track record, but Frank can’t be attracted to her. She isn’t his type.”

“I wonder if all the divorced women and jilted girlfriends she’s left in her wake thought the same thing.” Sylvie abandoned the folder on her desk and settled into her chair. “I wouldn’t have thought there would be a problem, either. I mean, it isn’t like Frank hasn’t known Arielle for years. They teach at the same school, for heaven’s sake.” Sylvie moved her hand in the air. “But he’s changed since they started working together on this play. He’s always too busy for me now. Half the time he’s too busy to even talk to me and when he does, I have the feeling he isn’t listening to a word I say. It’s like he’s constantly somewhere else, and it’s pretty obvious where that somewhere else is.”

“You have to admit though, Frank has always sort of been somewhere else. He has that ethereal, preoccupied air about him, like he’s writing poetry in his head instead of really listening to the conversation. That’s just Frank.”

“I know what you mean, but, this isn’t Frank at all. This is someone else. He’s changed … a lot. He’s more like someone under a spell, or….” Sylvie let her words trail off and she gave her friend a sad look.

“Or … what?” Heather asked, and then it began to dawn on her. “Oh, my gosh. You can’t think he’s in love with Arielle?”

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