{"product_id":"a-just-clause-isbn-9780399585937","title":"A Just Clause","description":"\u003cb\u003eJust when things are getting back to normal in Booktown, Tricia and Angelica have their lives turned upside down by a shocking visitor from their past in this cozy mystery in the \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling series. \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTricia Miles, mystery bookstore owner and amateur sleuth, is in for a surprise when her ne’er-do-well father, John, comes to town—and promptly becomes a prime suspect in the murder of a woman with her own scandalous past. Even Tricia’s faith in the old man is shaken when the Stoneham police break the news that her father is a known con man who has done jail time.  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut what about bestselling thriller author Steven Richardson? Is it a coincidence that he arrived for a book signing just before the crime or that the victim was found with a signed copy of his latest bestseller?  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrom merlot to murder, Tricia is determined to clear the family name before another body shows up and ruins Stoneham’s first—and highly anticipated—wine and jazz festival.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eINCLUDES RECIPES\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003ePraise for the \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e Bestselling Booktown Mysteries\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Diverting entertainment…An engaging story line, an intrepid heroine…Good for lovers of intrigue.”—\u003ci\u003eRichmond Times-Dispatch\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Lorna Barrett never fails to offer a suspenseful cozy mystery…Entertaining, highly enjoyable.”—Cozy Mystery Book Reviews\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Fans of Carolyn Hart and Denise Swanson, rejoice!…This first-rate cozy artfully blends crime, cuisine, and even bookselling in a cheerful, witty, well-plotted puzzler.”—Julia Spencer-Fleming,\u003ci\u003e New York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThrough the Evil Days\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A mystery bookstore in a sleepy New England town, a cat named Miss Marple, a nasty murder, and a determined heroine…Delightful…Everything a cozy lover could want and more. Bravo!”—Leann Sweeney, New York Times bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThe Cat, the Vagabond and the Victim\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Lorna Barrett’s new cozy creation…has it all: wonderful old books, quirky characters, a clever mystery, and a cat named Miss Marple!”—Roberta Isleib, author of\u003ci\u003e Asking for Murder\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“[A] delightful, and often funny, mystery series about a town that lives and dies by the love of books.”—Kings River Life Magazine\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Tightly plotted and paced to keep you turning the pages, this series is indeed getting better with each book.”—Gumshoe Review\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Charming…An engaging whodunit.”—\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003eLorna Barrett\u003c\/b\u003e is the \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of the Booktown Mysteries, including \u003ci\u003ePoisoned Pages\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eA Just Clause\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eTitle Wave\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eA Fatal Chapter\u003c\/i\u003e, and \u003ci\u003eBook Clubbed\u003c\/i\u003e. She lives in Rochester, New York.One\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTricia Miles almost always felt a thrill to host a book signing      at her mystery bookstore, Haven't Got a Clue, especially when it      involved a favorite author. Tonight that author was Steven      Richardson, known for writing \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003eand \u003ci\u003eUSA Today\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling thrillers. Stacks of his latest hardcover, \u003ci\u003eA Killing      in Mad Gate\u003c\/i\u003e, sat on a table at the front of the store. The weather      was perfect for a signing: drizzling and gray. Now all she needed      was for the guest of honor to arrive.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Tricia's assistant, Pixie Poe, checked the big pink watch on her      left wrist. \"He's late,\" she sang. To honor the author, Pixie had      chosen a fuchsia floral dress that had been made at least six      decades before, and, despite her rather chunky frame, the dress      not only fit as though it had been made for her, but was actually      quite flattering, giving her an hourglass figure that she seemed      to enjoy flaunting.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e This month, she was again a blonde, and when she smiled, her gold      canine tooth flashed. She'd been smiling a lot that evening—every      time she glanced at the modest diamond solitaire on her left hand.      Her newly minted fiancé, Fred Pillins, was a nondescript kind of      fellow who matched Pixie in years—about fifty. He stood near the      back of the store, camera in hand, trying to look      inconspicuous—except that his fond gaze rarely strayed from Pixie.      He seemed to enjoy the view. He must have taken at least a dozen      candid shots of her since his arrival some twenty minutes before.      That was when the signing was supposed to have begun.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e In addition to the Tuesday Night Book Club members, nearly two      dozen of Tricia's customers from a fifty-mile radius had shown up      to welcome the author. Tricia was glad she'd not only ordered a      cake with the book's cover printed in edible ink from the      Patisserie but a big plate of assorted cookies to go along with      the sparkling punch she'd made from her sister Angelica's recipe.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Angelica approached, looking stupendous in a tailored ivory suit      with matching stilettos, holding a paper cup filled with punch.      \"Your author \u003ci\u003ewas\u003c\/i\u003e aware of the time of the signing, wasn't he?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Tricia sighed. \"Yes. But he was driving up from Boston. Thanks to      the rain, who knows what the traffic is like. I'm sure he'll be      here soon-and if not, I hope he'll at least call me.\" Tricia      squinted at her sister. \"Remind me again why \u003ci\u003eyou're\u003c\/i\u003e here?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"\u003ci\u003eMoi\u003c\/i\u003e?\" Angelica practically cooed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"\u003ci\u003eOui, tu\u003c\/i\u003e. You're not exactly a thriller reader.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Angelica sighed patiently. \"I want to see if there are sparks!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Sparks?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yes, between you and Steven.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Tricia eyed her sister coolly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"He kissed you on the \u003ci\u003eCeltic Lady \u003c\/i\u003ecruise.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Tricia frowned. \"I have kissed three men since then.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Daddy, Antonio, and Mr. Everett don't count,\" Angelica said,      citing her stepson and Tricia's elderly employee and friend.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"There will be \u003ci\u003eno \u003c\/i\u003esparks.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"She said in denial,\" Angelica muttered.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Tricia's frown deepened to a glare. \"Instead of sparks, you might      see my temper explode.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Angelica shook her head. \"It's never going to happen, my dear      sister. You don't \u003ci\u003ehave\u003c\/i\u003e a temper.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'll consider getting one.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The bookstore's door opened, the little bell overhead tinkling      cheerfully, but it was not Richardson who entered. Instead, it was      someone well known to Tricia and Angelica.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Oh, dear,\" Angelica muttered, taking in the man dressed in an      outrageous—for him—pink aloha shirt and holding a big black      umbrella with a couple of broken ribs. Again, Tricia sighed and,      despite a pang of dread, forced a smile. It had been five      all-too-very-short months since she'd last seen her father, John      Miles.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Daddy! Whatever are you doing back in Stoneham?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e John struggled to close the soaked bumbershoot. \"I came to visit      my two best girls, of course.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Angelica's smile was even more rigid. \"What a pleasure.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e It wasn't.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Still, once he'd closed the umbrella, the sisters leaned in to      give John a kiss on each cheek.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e To say John had outstayed his welcome back in January was an      understatement. Not only had he left the village owing money to      nearly half the Chamber of Commerce's members—which Angelica had      had to reimburse—but he'd left the Sheer Comfort Inn without      notice and apparently with his suitcases filled with a number of      the antiques that had decorated the place. Their father's deadbeat      behavior had not only been unexpected—but unprecedented. That he'd      left with no explanation was just as surprising.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Before the sisters could ask even the most basic of questions—like      \u003ci\u003e\"When are you leaving?\"—\u003c\/i\u003ethe bell over the door tinkled once again,      this time admitting the long-awaited author, looking decidedly      damp around the edges.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Tricia!\" Richardson called. He sounded winded.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Steven—at last!\" Tricia excused herself, leaving Angelica to deal      with their father. She joined the author. \"Are you okay? I was      getting worried.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I just ran from the municipal parking lot. Sorry I'm so late. The      traffic outside of Boston was abominable, and then there was a      wreck near Nashua that backed everything up for miles.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I figured as much.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Do you still want me to give a reading?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I think your fans would be disappointed if you didn't speak—but      if you'd prefer to do a Q and A instead, I don't think anyone      would object.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He nodded and pointed toward the table piled with his latest      novel. \"Shall I?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yes, please,\" Tricia said, and gestured for him to stand beside      it. She joined him to face her customers, who were mostly talking      among themselves and scarfing down cookies and punch. \"May I have      your attention!\" she called, but without much impact. \"Excuse me;      we're ready to start!\" Her efforts weren't attracting much      attention.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Pixie moved to stand beside her. \"I'll take care of this.\" She      raised her right thumb and index finger to her lips and let loose      with a shrill whistle that was as effective as nails on a      chalkboard for silencing the room. Tricia winced as everyone      turned in attention, while Pixie studied her hand. \"Damn. Now I've      got to go freshen my lipstick.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Tricia plastered on a smile. \"Ladies and gentlemen, won't you      please take your seats? It's my pleasure to present a man whose      books are well known, and loved, by all of us here tonight—\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Not me,\" muttered a female voice from somewhere in the store, but      Tricia had no clue who said it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Momentarily rattled, she launched back into her introduction.      \"Author Steven Richardson.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A smattering of applause followed, and then there seemed to be a      mad dash as everyone sought a seat at the front of the room, which      had been rearranged so that the comfortable upholstered chairs of      the reading nook faced the front of the store, with metal folding      chairs set up in rows behind them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e It took another minute or two for the murmur of voices to quiet,      then Richardson spoke.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"It's great to see such a welcoming crowd here at Haven't Got a      Clue. Before I tell you about my latest book, \u003ci\u003eA Killing in Mad      Gate\u003c\/i\u003e, I'd like to tell you a little about myself.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Don't bother,\" came the same rude voice. Tricia searched the      faces of the women that populated the small audience, but still      wasn't sure who'd spoken. It definitely wasn't Grace      Harris-Everett, who sat primly next to her husband, Mr. Everett,      nor could it have been Mary Fairchild, her neighbor and owner of      the By Hook or By Book craft store. Tricia wasn't as familiar with      the rest of the ladies.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She circled back to the table that held the goodies, where      Angelica was again ladling punch into her cup. \"This really is      good!\" she whispered.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Who's being rude to Steven?\" Tricia asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Angelica took a sip. \"No idea. Why would someone come to a signing      if they didn't like the author?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I just hope there isn't going to be any unpleasantness.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e John had ditched his soggy umbrella, and he sidled up to the      table, grabbing a napkin and taking a couple of the cookies. \"We      should probably talk,\" he said, and popped one of the butter      cookies into his mouth, chewing. He jerked a thumb in the      direction of the back of the store.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Tricia wasn't sure she wanted to engage in conversation with her      not-so-dear old dad. It was nearly seven thirty. Was he about to      beg for a bed to stay the night? Luckily, she wasn't in a position      to offer him one—thanks to the state of her home, which had been      torn apart for the renovation of the second and third floors of      the building she now owned, as evidenced by dust that had      accumulated on the baseboards and had escaped Mr. Everett's lamb's      wool duster. Unbeknownst to most of the village of Stoneham,      Angelica owned not only the Sheer Comfort Inn, but the Brookview      Inn. After he'd pulled a disappearing act, Tricia was pretty sure      her sister wouldn't be issuing an invitation for their father to      stay in either location. Angelica had been pretty steamed to have      to not only clean up after him but come up with a reasonable      explanation for his boorish behavior.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Still, he \u003ci\u003ewas\u003c\/i\u003e their father.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The sisters followed John to the back of the shop.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Daddy,\" Angelica began, and Tricia recognized that no-nonsense      tone. \"You left rather suddenly back in January, with many unpaid      bills.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Instead of looking embarrassed, John actually grinned. \"Now,      that's not quite right—\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yes, it's definitely right,\" Angelica insisted, keeping her voice      low. \"I know, because I had to come up with excuses for many of      the merchants in the village as to why you disappeared without a      trace. You didn't even let Tricia and me know you were leaving the      area.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I was offered a wonderful business proposition—but it was time      dependent, and I simply had to leave. But now I'm back and      prepared to make restitution.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"\u003ci\u003eFull\u003c\/i\u003e restitution?\" Angelica asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Of course. Although there seems to be a little resentment from      some of the local merchants. They said they had no rooms at both      the Sheer Comfort Inn \u003ci\u003eand\u003c\/i\u003e the Brookview Inn, and yet the parking      lots for both establishments were nearly empty.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Tricia knew Angelica had provided the staffs of both properties      with a picture of John Miles and a warning to them \u003ci\u003enot\u003c\/i\u003e to give him      a room should he ever show up again.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Would I be able to stay with either of you?\" John asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Tricia shook her head sadly. \"My loft is undergoing a massive      renovation. I'm not even staying here right now.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Really?\" John asked, sounding skeptical. \"And yet I see no trace      of work being done.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Tricia wasn't about to point out the dust. Instead, she jerked a      thumb over her shoulder. \"There's a twenty-yard Dumpster behind      the building, just through that door.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e John turned to Angelica. \"I have a one-bedroom loft.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'd be perfectly willing to sleep on the couch.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'm sorry, Daddy, but it's out being upholstered,\" Angelica lied      without batting an eye.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e John's jovial features began to sag. \"Where am I to stay? I have      no other friends or relatives in the area.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Why aren't you with Mother?\" Angelica asked, rather pointedly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Ah, I hate to be the bearer of unhappy news, but . . . your      mother and I have separated.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Tricia gave her sister a sidelong glance. This really wasn't      surprising news. Not that either of them had heard a word about it      from their mother after their ill-fated visit to Bermuda to see      her five months before.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Has she gone back to Rio?\" Tricia asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Uh, initially yes. As you know, things aren't quite as nice as      they once were in Brazil. When we last spoke, she told me she had      packed up and was moving back to Connecticut.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"When was this?\" Angelica asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"About a month ago.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"And where were you at the time?\" Tricia asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"In Las Vegas.\" John's good-humored smile had returned once more.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Gambling?\" Angelica guessed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Just for fun,\" John admitted. \"Unfortunately, the business deal I      spoke of only moments ago fell through.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"And that's why you're back here?\" Tricia guessed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Er, yes. A man can always depend on his loving children in a time      of crisis.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"What's the crisis?\" Angelica asked, none too kindly. \"You said      you came back to make full restitution to the area merchants.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Well, yes—\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"It's not a health scare, is it?\" Tricia asked, and this time she      was concerned.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Oh, nothing of the sort.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"That's good,\" Angelica said, but her gaze was still sharp.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Why don't we go over to the Dog-Eared Page and get a drink and      talk things over,\" John suggested.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Tricia nodded toward the front of her store, where the author talk      was still in full swing. \"I've got a business to run.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"And I'm helping her,\" Angelica said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Actually, Pixie was helping Tricia run the event, but she didn't      contradict her sibling.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I could go over and wait for you both, but there's a tiny      problem. The proprietress doesn't seem to want to serve me.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e So, his first stop after being refused accommodations \u003ci\u003ehadn't \u003c\/i\u003ebeen      to seek out his darling daughters.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"That's because you left the village with a very large tab,\"      Angelica said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"What's a few dollars?\" John said, shrugging.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"A few\u003ci\u003e thousand \u003c\/i\u003edollars,\" Angelica corrected him. \"Surely you      didn't think the people you owed money to wouldn't come asking      Tricia and me about your whereabouts and expecting to be paid.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"It's all a big misunderstanding,\" John insisted.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'm listening,\" Angelica insisted.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e But before John could explain, the group of people at the front of      the shop broke into enthusiastic applause.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I've got to get back to work,\" Tricia said. \"If you'll excuse      me.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"And I've got to help her,\" Angelica insisted, and followed in her      sister's wake.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e By the time Tricia made it to the middle of the shop, Richardson      had already taken his seat at the book table with pen in hand,      while Pixie readied the books, handing them to him open at the      title page, ready for him to sign.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'll take care of the cake,\" Angelica said, and marched around      the goodies table. \"Do you want me to wait until Steven has his      picture taken with it before I cut it?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Let's not bother.\" The hands on the clock were already marching      toward eight. \"I'd better go man the register.\" Tricia turned, but      Mr. Everett was already stationed behind the sales desk, waiting      for the first customer.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She hurried over to him. \"Oh, Mr. Everett, it's your night off.      I'll take care of the sales.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I saw that you were engaged, Ms. Miles, and I thought it best to      cover all bases.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"You're a dear. Angelica's about to cut the cake. Why don't you      get a slice for yourself and Grace?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I will, thank you.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Tricia watched her friend stroll over to the goodies table, but      saw that her father was already there—stuffing his pockets full of      cookies and speaking to one of the store's customers—Carol Talbot.      The fifty-something woman's heavily lined features no doubt were      the result of years of heavy tanning and reminded Tricia of an      angry bulldog, which matched her personality. It was her body that      was the envy of women decades younger. This evening she'd dressed      in a form-fitting pink floral sundress with a bolero jacket,      accented by a string of faux pearls around her neck. A cutthroat      darts player, Carol had often played against Tricia on tournament      nights at the Dog-Eared Page. Carol wasn't one of Tricia's      favorite people, nor a regular customer, so it was surprising she      had made the effort to attend the signing.","brand":"Berkley","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46299798995173,"sku":"NP9780399585937","price":9.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780399585937.jpg?v=1767720551","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/a-just-clause-isbn-9780399585937","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}