Title Murder with a Terrace View
Author Teresa Michael
Genre Mystery
Publisher Palmetto Publishing
Book Blurb
In Murder with a Terrace View, Molly Harrington's peaceful life running a B&B is shattered when a local author is found dead. As she delves into the mystery, she uncovers a web of secrets tied to her family's past. With a spectral ally and a budding romance with the detective, Molly navigates a world of intrigue and danger. This gripping tale blends mystery, romance, and the paranormal, promising a cozy whodunit that keeps you guessing till the end.
Excerpt
Molly hurried down the stairs, hoping her guests in the dining room didn’t hear her. As she tiptoed into the kitchen, she heard her guests chatting about the book launch and the evening’s wedding. In the kitchen, Elise was busy filling the basket with freshly baked biscuits.
“What?” Elise asked. “You look like you’ve seen the family ghost.”
“Come with me,” she whispered, motioning for Elise to follow her. “I need a witness.”
Elise’s eyes widened. “You’ve seen her, haven’t you?”
“Let’s go up the back way,” Molly said. The butler’s pantry stairs entered the large second-floor foyer between the Roaring Twenties Room and the Terrace Room.
“What are you doing?” Elise asked as Molly opened Aubrey’s bedroom door.
“He’s not answering, and I didn’t want to go inside without a witness.”
Elise nodded toward the bathroom. “He’s probably in there.” She leaned against the doorjamb. “But I don’t hear any water running.”
“Knock on the door.”
Elise knocked, and Molly called out, “Aubrey, it’s time for breakfast. You have that appointment. Remember?”
“Should we open the door?” Elise asked.
“Perhaps we should get George to do that. Maybe he’s passed out drunk.”
Elise scrunched up her face. “And naked! Good idea.”
Molly crossed the room to pull the French doors closed. She froze. Aubrey Rhodes lay face up on the terrace floor, his leg cocked sideways in an unnatural position, his latest novel upside down next to him. It must have rained during the night, because the terrace floor, the book, and Aubrey were wet.
“Molly, shut the doors, and let’s go. He’s such a horn-dog. He probably hooked up with one of his groupies last night. That explains why the front door wasn’t latched this morning.”
Molly let out the breath she didn’t realize she had held. “I don’t think so.”
“What are you talking about?” Elise abruptly stopped next to Molly. “Oh, jeez.”
Molly pulled her gaze away from Aubrey’s body. “We probably should check for a pulse.”
“Okay. Go on.” Elise gestured toward Aubrey.
The brisk April wind stung Molly’s cheeks as she stepped onto the terrace. She’d had some training and had watched enough television to know she shouldn’t touch anything or do anything to contaminate a possible crime scene, but if Aubrey was still alive, time was of the essence. She needed to check his pulse. Molly stood next to him and looked down. He wore the same clothes he’d worn the night before—black trousers and a pale-blue shirt. His eyes were wide open and stared blankly up at the gathering gray clouds.
“Molly. Is he…?”
“Yes,” Molly said. “I’m sure of it.”
“I’ve never seen a dead person.”
“Except for my mother in the hospital, I haven’t either.” Molly closed the French doors and backed into the spacious room.
“What should we do?” Elise asked.
“Call the police.” Molly patted her pockets and realized she still hadn’t picked up her phone or the keys.
“What about the guests downstairs?”
Molly tapped her forefinger on her chin. “Let’s keep feeding them until the cops get here.”
Elise stepped into the hallway, and Molly pulled the bedroom door shut. They reached the stairs as George Roark stepped onto the landing below them.
“Is he awake?” he asked, running up the remaining eight stairs.
“Uh…no,” Molly said.
Elise looked from Molly to George and back to Molly. “I’m going to take care of that thing we discussed.” She slipped around George and ran down the back stairs.
George moved to open the bedroom door, but Molly blocked his way.
“He needs to hurry up,” George said, reaching around her. “We must be on time for our appointments. I’ve set up some interviews and another signing.”
“I don’t think that will happen.” Molly stood at the bedroom door, her hand on the doorknob behind her. “I shouldn’t let you in there.”
He reached over her shoulder, knocked on the door, and called for Aubrey. When there was no answer, he looked at Molly and said, “What are you hiding?” He pushed her aside, none too gently, and opened the door.
“Please, don’t go in there.”
“Aubrey,” George called as he looked around the room. He checked the bathroom and peeked into the closet.
“He’s not in there.”
“Where is he?”
Molly gestured toward the terrace. George glanced back and then opened the French doors. He froze, arms wide, hands still on the doorknobs. He dropped his head to his chest, took a deep breath, and shut the doors. He paused for a moment before turning to face Molly. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. I found him like that when I came upstairs. Elise went to call the police.”
George sank into the mauve Queen Anne chair between the door and the fireplace.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Molly and George turned simultaneously toward Tracy, standing in the doorway. “Where’s Aubrey?” She looked from one person to the other. “Is he out there?” She gestured toward the French doors.
“Don’t,” Molly and George said simultaneously.
Tracy wrinkled her brow. “What? Why?”
“Don’t go out there,” Molly said. “Aubrey’s…uh…he’s dead.”
In disbelief, Tracy looked between them and then toward the terrace. “What are you saying?”
“He’s dead,” George said, holding his forehead.
Tracy leaned against the French doors, head down.
“Tracy, you were in the room next door,” Molly said. “Did you hear anything last night?”
“No, nothing,” she said. “I drank too much champagne. So, I took two ibuprofen, put white noise on my phone, and went to sleep.”
Molly stood by the door. “I think we should go back downstairs until the police arrive. George, you’re his agent. You can explain to the other guests while I check with Elise about the police.”
Molly looked at Tracy, who nodded but glanced away as she wiped away a tear with her fingertips.
Molly followed George and Tracy into the hall.
“Oh my,” Molly muttered as she pulled the door shut and put the Do Not Disturb sign on the doorknob. “Not exactly the book launch we’d planned.”
Buy Links (including Goodreads and BookBub)
· Amazon Amazon.com : Murder with a Terrace View
· Barnes and Noble - Murder with a Terrace View: A Harrington House Mystery by Teresa Michael, Paperback | Barnes & Noble® (barnesandnoble.com)
Author Biography
Teresa Michael, an award-winning author, is renowned for her Mariposa Café Mystery Series, with Murder in Mariposa Beach earning the Firebird Book Award. A lover of reading, writing, and travel, Teresa has explored 49 states and managed the US Archery Team in two Olympic Games. She's a past president of the Florida Gulf Coast Chapter of Sisters in Crime and a member of Mystery Writers of America. Teresa lives in Sarasota, FL, with her husband and cat. Someday, she’ll visit that 50th state. Connect with her on Facebook at Teresa Michael- Author or visit her website at https://teresamichaelwrites.pubsitepro.com.
Social Media Links
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Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18633273.Teresa_Michael
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