Til Dice Do Us Part
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Table of Contents Title Page Copyright Page Dedication Acknowledgements Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Praise for Whack ’n’ Roll “Feisty and intelligent, Kate is an admirable protagonist with genuinely clever detective skills. Far superior to the typical cozy, this uniquely capricious mystery will engage readers from the very first page to the surprising conclusion.” —Publishers Weekly (starred review) “A delightful amateur sleuth . spunky Kate and her BFFs are filled with so much energy that people half their age will admire them. Gail Oust provides a complex whodunit.” —Follow the Clue “A quick read with an engaging heroine who is smart and eager to learn and help her friends and neighbors. The mystery is well plotted and there are enough red herrings to keep readers from figuring out ‘who did it’ too early on. This is a fine start to a series.” —The Mystery Reader “A fine thriller of elderly investigators.” —Midwest Book Review OBSIDIAN Published by New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England Penguin Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.) Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.) Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi - 110 017, India Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.) Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England First published by Obsidian, an imprint of New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. First Printing, April 2010 eISBN : 978-1-101-18651-0 Copyright © Gail Oust, 2010 All rights reserved OBSIDIAN and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. PUBLISHER’S NOTE This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. http://us.penguingroup.com To Beth and Greg, Brianna and Caitlin, and my sweet Caden. You make my world go round. Acknowledgments In a production of any sort, there are always people behind the scenes who help make it a success. I’d like to take a moment to thank those who so generously shared their expertise during the writing of ’Til Dice Do Us Part. Sometimes it really does take a village. First on my list is Suzanne Burnes, professional photographer, neighbor, and friend. You truly are kindness and talent personified. Next comes Jim Montgomery, lieutenant, Detroit Police Department, retired. Who else would have arrived on my doorstep armed and dangerous and ready to prove the big bang theory? Any errors are mine alone. Then there’s Fran McClain, my all-time favorite steel magnolia. Your wit and wisdom of how things work in a community theater helped me pull this off. I can’t mention community theater without thanking the cast and crew of the Mighty Arts Players of Savannah Lakes Village. In the same vein, thanks to Bess Park, artistic director, Greenwood Community Theatre. Both of these groups graciously allowed me to be a mouse in the corner during rehearsals. Thankfully, no one broke a leg—at least not while I was around. Bob Stockton, I appreciate your PR help. I’m happy you can be easily bribed with food. And not to be left out, John and Ann McNab for sharing the exploits of “that darn cat.” Sorry I had to turn him orange, but we all know why. Angela Koski, you rode to my rescue with your timely list of abbreviations. No one knows texting better than a teenager. Thanks, everyone! I can’t forget to give special mention to the Babes’ very own fairy godmother, my wonderful agent, Jessica Faust at BookEnds, LLC. And last but by no means least, my hubby, Bob, who never minds late dinners and will even eat burnt offerings. Thanks for patiently listening to the trials and tribulations of imaginary characters in return for hearing about your great drives, mind-boggling chips, and missed putts. It’s a fair exchange. Chapter 1 “Yoo-hoo, everyone! I’m baaack!” Claudia Connors Ledeaux burst into the room, looking larger than life in a black leather mini, matching waist-length jacket, four-inch stilettos, and flaming red hair. The Bunco Babes and I were momentarily rendered speechless. No mean task, let me tell you. The Babes like to talk even more than we like to play bunco, our favorite dice game. We excel at both. Tonight we were gathered at Pam Warner’s for our bimonthly get-together. Granted, some may think bunco a silly, mindless game, but it’s right up our alley. No skill, no finesse, no strategy. Dice just make it look serious. Shake, rattle, and toss. No previous experience required. The game couldn’t be simpler. “Claudia, honey, welcome home,” I told her as my addled brain began to function again. I jumped from the sofa and ran to give her a hug. “We missed you.” “Kate McCall!” Claudia exclaimed, returning my hug. “Missed you, too.” Claudia is the twelfth member of our little band of bunco players. Several months back, she ran off with a man she met on the Internet. But she couldn’t get away from the Babes. We pride ourselves on being well informed. If cell phones were an Olympic event, we’d be medalists. According to all accounts, this guy, Lance Ledeaux, was unemployed, light on money, and heavy on charm. When he and Claudia first hooked up, he’d been residing in Atlanta, a mere one hundred fifty miles to the west as the crow flies. The pair took off in a rented RV ostensibly to visit the Grand Canyon. Somewhere along the way, their plans took a detour. The pair got hitched in Vegas by an Elvis impersonator in a little chapel off the Strip. Vegas, I heard, was the closest they ever got to a natural wonder. To each his own, I suppose. The lovebirds have just returned to take up residence here in Serenity Cove Estates, a retirement community for “active” adults. I stepped aside to let the others have a turn. I used the opportunity to study Claudia more closely. There were other changes besides the hair color. Her style of dress had undergone a transformation as well. Instead of the usual trendy but classy fashion she had favored in the past, she now opted for flamboyant bordering on flashy. And flashy, as we all know, rhymes with trashy. Of course, bless her heart, I’d never say anything to hurt her feelings. “Your hair . ,” squeaked Polly, our septuagenarian. “It’s so . .” “Red,” Claudia supplied with a grin. “Like it?” “Yeah, red. That’s the word I was looking for.” Polly turned to Gloria, her daughter, and asked, “Do you think I’d look hot with red hair?” “Mother, really,” Gloria said with a weary shake of her salt-and-pepper bob that set her hoop earrings swaying. “Isn’t it enough to be blond at your age?” Polly fluffed her curls. “Can’t blame a gal for wanting to maintain a youthful image. Maybe I need a new man in my life.” Connie Sue, the Babes’ perennial Southern belle and former Miss Peach Princess, peered back toward the foyer. “Speakin’ of men, where’s that bridegroom of yours, honey chile? We’re all just dyin’ to meet the man who swept you off your feet.” Claudia shrugged out of her leather jacket and tossed it over the back of a nearby chair, revealing a shape-hugging emerald green sweater that showed considerable cleavage. “Lance is dying to meet all of you, too. He’ll be along later.” “What made you decide to return home this soon?” I asked. Diane, a fortysomething brunette and the local librarian, helped herself to a small handful of cashews from a dish on the coffee table.