By Laura Levine
La freelance author Jaine Austen accompanies her good friend Neiman Marcus shoe guru Lance to the Beverly Hills property of 'Marvellous Marv, the bed King' because the man's spouse is his top client. despite the fact that, Bunny is nasty to everybody together with Jaine, yet quickly after sipping her martini she falls to the floor lifeless. an individual positioned cyanide in Bunny's martini. because the queen of suggest was once universally loathed, there are many suspects. notwithstanding, the Beverly Hills police hone in on Lance who has an extra cause - he inherits the victim's Maserati. Jaine is familiar with Lance wouldn't kill a big consumer so having luck in fixing homicides prior to; she investigates and reveals numerous doable suspects amidst the nuclear family individuals.
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Additional resources for Death of A Trophy Wife (Jaine Austen Mysteries)
Unlucky for her, she had inherited a most forbidding unibrow. Which was now furrowed at the sight of me. Following in the proud Trotsky family tradition, she greeted me with a grunt, simultaneously crushing a walnut in her beefy paw. "I go help Aunt Minna in the kitchen," Vladimir said. " With that, he dashed off, leaving me stranded with Boris and Sofi. I sat down gingerly on an armchair littered with walnut shells and plastered on a stiff smile. Making friends with these two wasn't going to be easy.
The last time I'd been called skinny was, well, never. So frankly it felt rather nice. And indeed, compared to Minna and Sofi, I was a bit of a waif. I was hoping the meal might perk up with dessert. Perhaps a little something from Polly's House of Pies. A banana cream pie sure would go a long way to erase the memory of that yogurt pizza. But alas, for dessert, Minna trotted out lukewarm tea and cookies the consistency of hockey pucks. " she asked as I took my first nibble. "Dee-lish," I replied, trying not to chip a molar.
Which works well for hip Hollywood producers, not so well for guys with paunches and hair plugs. If these were the best people, somebody better alert the gang at Newport. L. Bean togs, Sarah scowling into her drink, and Owen still sporting his Mattress King baseball cap. I was beginning to wonder if it was welded to his scalp. Much to my surprise I also spotted Ellen Cooper, chatting with a handsome, silver-haired guy near the patio. And over by a fireplace big enough to park my Corolla in, Marvin was deep in conversation with one of the T-Shirt & Blazer guys.