Mortar and Murder

Table of Contents

 

 

Plaster and Poison

“A delightful small-town Maine sleuth . . . Solid and entertaining . . . A pull-no-punches mystery.”

 

 

Spackled and Spooked

 

“Smooth, clever, and witty. This series is a winner!”

 

“Bound to be another winner for this talented author. Home-renovation buffs will appreciate the wealth of detail.”

—
Examiner.com

 

“I hope the series continues.”

 

 

Fatal Fixer-Upper

 

“A great whodunit . . . Fans will enjoy this fine cozy.”

 

“Smartly blends investigative drama, sexual tension, and romantic comedy elements, and marks the start of what looks like an outstanding series of Avery Baker cases.”

 

“Polished writing and well-paced story. I was hooked . . . from page one.”

 

“There’s a new contender in the do-it-yourself home-renovation mystery field . . . An enjoyable beginning to a series.”

 

“A strong debut mystery . . . Do-it-yourselfers will find much to enjoy.”

 

“A cozy whodunit with many elements familiar to fans of Agatha Christie or
Murder, She Wrote
.”

 

“A great whodunit. Fans will enjoy this fine cozy.”

 

“A fun and sassy journey that teaches readers about home renovation as they follow the twists and turns of a great mystery.”

—
Examiner.com

FATAL FIXER-UPPER
SPACKLED AND SPOOKED
PLASTER AND POISON
MORTAR AND MURDER

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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

 

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 websites or their content.

 

PUBLISHER’S NOTE: Neither the publisher nor the author is engaged in rendering professional advice or services to the individual reader. The ideas, projects, and suggestions contained in this book are not intended as a substitute for consulting with a professional. Neither the author nor the publisher shall be liable or responsible for any loss or damage allegedly arising from any information or suggestion in this book.

 

MORTAR AND MURDER

 

A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author

PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / January 2011

Copyright © 2011 by Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

 

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eISBN : 978-1-101-47678-9

 

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No writer is an island, and this book couldn’t have happened without the help of a whole lot of people.

As always, thanks to my wonderful agent, Stephany Evans, and everyone at Fine Print Literary Management, and my equally wonderful editor, Jessica Wade, and everyone at Berkley Prime Crime.

Thanks to my publicists, Tom Robinson with Author and Book Media and Megan Swartz with Berkley, without whom this book would be nowhere.

Thanks to the Penguin design team for another beautiful book: Rita Frangie for art direction and cover design, Jennifer Taylor for cover art, and Laura K. Corless for interior design.

Big hugs to my critique partner, the wonderful Jamie Livingston-Dierks, who saves my posterior over and over again, and to all my other writer friends, too numerous to mention, who have loved and supported me through it all.

Thanks to Angela Burns, my favorite breed of human—a librarian!—for donating her name to a good cause and for tirelessly pushing my books on her patrons. Thanks also to all the other librarians and booksellers out there, along with all the reviewers, and most especially the readers, who have made this journey possible.

Finally, thanks, hugs, kisses, and undying love to my family, especially my husband and two boys, who know the real me and love me anyway. You guys are the best!

On April Fools’ Day, Derek started work on his dream house. If I had thought about it, I would have realized that that was a bad sign, but no, I was just too excited that he finally had something to do to worry about anything else.

The house was a decrepit 1783 center-chimney Colonial on Rowanberry Island, about thirty minutes up the coast from Waterfield by boat, and he had fallen in love with it six months earlier: leaking roof, leaning walls, broken windows, and all. He’d wanted to buy it right then and there, but we were in the middle of renovating another house, a project where all our money was tied up, and with winter coming on, the timing just wasn’t right. But as soon as the snow melted and the ground thawed, and we sold the house on Becklea Drive and put some cash back into the coffers, Derek was back to harping on about the Colonial on Rowanberry Island. He’s nothing if not persistent.

Derek Ellis is my significant other, as well as my business partner. We’d met the previous June, when I’d inherited two cats and a house in tiny Waterfield, Maine, from my great-aunt Inga. Once I decided to spend the summer fixing it up, Derek was the handyman I hired to help me do the work. And in spite of a rocky beginning, I fell for him like a ton of bricks. When I chose to stay in Waterfield instead of going back to New York and my textile design career, going into business together seemed like a no-brainer.

At this point, Derek was owner and I was resident designer of Waterfield Renovation and Restoration. There were no other employees, so Derek was also plumber, electrician, painter, and general contractor, while I did a little of this and a little of that, including some painting, some tiling, some wall treatments, and some other stuff. I do what I can, in other words, and what I don’t know how to do, Derek either does himself, or he gives me a crash course on the subject and lets me loose. It’s worked for us so far.

The house on Rowanberry Island would be our fourth—and most ambitious—renovation project. After Aunt Inga’s Second Empire Victorian in the historic district, we’d spent most of the autumn redoing a midcentury ranch in a suburb west of Waterfield (the aforementioned Becklea Drive place), before coming back to the Village to spend the early part of the winter turning my friend Kate’s carriage house into a romantic retreat for her and her new husband. They’d gotten married on New Year’s Eve and had flown to Paris for their honeymoon, and we had just managed to get everything into place for their return.

Since Waterfield was still blanketed under a foot of snow, Derek was forced to spend the first couple months of the new year doing small handyman jobs for other people, while I had agreed to teach a couple of textile design and history classes at local Barnham College. Both of us waited eagerly for enough snow to thaw to allow us to start work on the Rowanberry Island house.

The big day turned out to be April first: The weather was beautiful, most of the snow was gone, and the top couple of inches of ground had thawed. We brought all of Derek’s tools down to the harbor and loaded up a little motorboat we had borrowed from Derek’s friends Jill and Peter Cortino. That done, we locked Derek’s black pickup truck and set out for Rowanberry Island.

The island was only accessible by boat. It was inhabited year-round, but just barely. A handful of houses clung stubbornly to the rocky ground on the northwestern—lee—side, but every year it seemed another person or two gave up the fight and moved to the mainland. Kids went away to college, never to return, and the elderly died or were moved to assisted-living facilities off island.