{"product_id":"nine-lives-to-die-isbn-9780345530516","title":"Nine Lives to Die","description":"\u003cb\u003eNATIONAL BESTSELLER • NAMED ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR BY \u003ci\u003eSUSPENSE MAGAZINE\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRita Mae Brown and her feline co-author Sneaky Pie Brown return with a mystery starring Mary Minor “Harry” Haristeen, intrepid kitty sleuths Mrs. Murphy and Pewter, and Tee Tucker, the ever-faithful crime-solving corgi. This time around, Harry and her animal friends track a killer whose trail has gone as cold as the weather in December.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003eNINE LIVES TO DIE\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Winter has come to Crozet, Virginia, bringing with it a fresh blanket of snow. Harry and her husband, Fair, are hip deep in their usual end-of-the-year activities: distributing food to needy residents, and shopping for outfits for the Silver Linings youth organization’s annual fundraising gala. But buried beneath the white stuff are dark secrets from Crozet’s past—and Harry and her posse of pet detectives are determined to sniff them out. \u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Two Silver Linings mentors have been found dead in suspicious circumstances. If that weren’t enough to chill the bones of the locals, a pair of severed human fingers has turned up in a pencil jar in the bookkeeper’s office at St. Cyril’s church. What does this grisly display have to do with the mysterious disappearance of Harry’s voluptuous high school Latin teacher, a quarter of a century ago? Maybe nothing. But when the animals make another gruesome discovery in the woods behind Harry’s farm, it becomes clear that terrible crimes have been committed in Crozet—and somebody’s gone to great lengths to cover them up. It’s time to stop shoveling snow and start digging for clues.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e The truth will be revealed. A cold case will be solved. And a twenty-five-year-old love triangle is about to get untangled. The weather outside may be frightful, but Harry and her four-legged friends refuse to be spooked off the case.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003ePraise for \u003ci\u003eNine Lives to Die\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Witty and entertaining . . . a recipe for continued success and an engaging read.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eRichmond Times-Dispatch\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “The unabashed loves of [Rita Mae Brown’s] life . . . are infectious. Perhaps because they are so clearly heartfelt, it’s easy to be swept up in the glory of her passions.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eNew York Journal of Books\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Murder and mayhem are the order of the day in bestseller [Rita Mae] Brown’s well-plotted twenty-second Mrs. Murphy mystery. . . . Brown’s idyllic world, with its Christian values, talking animals, and sympathetic middle-aged pet owners, has understandably struck a chord with many readers.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Rita Mae Brown, along with . . . Sneaky Pie, have made Harry Harristeen and her feline companion, Mrs. Murphy, household names.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eLibrary Journal\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003ePraise for the Mrs. Murphy mysteries\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “As feline collaborators go, you couldn’t ask for better than Sneaky Pie Brown.”\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e—The New York Times Book Review\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003ePraise for \u003ci\u003eNine Lives to Die\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Witty and entertaining . . . a recipe for continued success and an engaging read.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eRichmond Times-Dispatch\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “The unabashed loves of [Rita Mae Brown’s] life . . . are infectious. Perhaps because they are so clearly heartfelt, it’s easy to be swept up in the glory of her passions.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eNew York Journal of Books\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Murder and mayhem are the order of the day in bestseller [Rita Mae] Brown’s well-plotted twenty-second Mrs. Murphy mystery. . . . Brown’s idyllic world, with its Christian values, talking animals, and sympathetic middle-aged pet owners, has understandably struck a chord with many readers.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Rita Mae Brown, along with . . . Sneaky Pie, have made Harry Harristeen and her feline companion, Mrs. Murphy, household names.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eLibrary Journal\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003ePraise for the Mrs. Murphy mysteries\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “As feline collaborators go, you couldn’t ask for better than Sneaky Pie Brown.”\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e—The New York Times Book Review\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eRita Mae Brown\u003c\/b\u003e is the bestselling author of the Sneaky Pie Brown series; the Sister Jane series; \u003ci\u003eA Nose for Justice \u003c\/i\u003eand\u003ci\u003e Murder Unleashed; Rubyfruit Jungle; In Her Day; \u003c\/i\u003eand \u003ci\u003eSix of One, \u003c\/i\u003eas well as several other novels. An Emmy-nominated screenwriter and a poet, Brown lives in Afton, Virginia.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003eSneaky Pie Brown\u003c\/b\u003e, a tiger cat born somewhere in Albemarle County, Virginia, was discovered by Rita Mae Brown at her local SPCA. They have collaborated on twenty-one previous Mrs. Murphy mysteries—in addition to \u003ci\u003eSneaky Pie’s Cookbook for Mystery Lovers\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eSneaky Pie for President\u003c\/i\u003e.1\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Gin!”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I don’t believe it.” Susan Tucker stared at the cards that her childhood friend, Harriett Haristeen, “Harry,” had smacked down.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe six other women in the room, all slack-­jawed, came over to view the winning card.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Well, Susan, she did,” BoomBoom Craycroft, another childhood friend, said and smiled.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Harry can’t play cards worth squat,” Susan complained.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Well, I did tonight.” Harry beamed. “Susan, mark your calendar, Tuesday, December third, my best friend Harry knocked the stuffing out of me at gin.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJessica Hexham was petite and middle-­aged, well dressed even though the evening was relaxed. She murmured, “Maybe something less exuberant for the calendar—­just a red-­letter day?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Do you remember when Miss Donleavey lectured us about red-­letter days on the ancient Roman calendar?” Susan rolled her eyes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBoomBoom, Susan, and Harry had been in the same class at old Crozet High School. While the buildings still stood, students now attended Western Albemarle High School, a large complex consolidating former small community schools. Jessica Hexham, Alicia Palmer, Charlene Vavilov, and Arden Higham had not. Jessica had attended Miss Porter’s; Alicia, Orange High School; Arden, Buck­ingham High; and Charlene, older than the others, had attended St. Catherine’s in Richmond.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWith the exception of Jessica, all were central Virginia natives. Jessica, born and raised in Concord, Massachusetts, often found them amusing while contradictory at times, and they were reliably solid friends.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Alea jacta est,” Susan pronounced with emphasis.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHarry translated. “The die is cast. Said when Julius Caesar crossed the Rubicon in 49 B.C. at the head of the Thirteenth Legion. He knew civil war would follow.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Talk about a red-­letter day,” said BoomBoom.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Isn’t it something, though, how a device thousands of years old still works, I mean, a red-­letter day? God bless Miss Donleavey. She taught us well.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJessica also recalled her Latin teacher at the expensive private school, perhaps less fondly. “I would never bless Miss Greely.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe others laughed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Charlene, bet you took Latin at St. Catherine’s,” Alicia wondered.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“You couldn’t go to college without two years of it,” said Charlene. “I took four. It’s helped me more than I could know when I hated memorizing those conjugations.” She laughed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Funny, isn’t it?” the uncommonly beautiful Alicia said. “What we use? What we remember?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“What I remember, apart from amo, amas, amat, was Miss Donleavey’s mysterious disappearance. Never found her.” Harry picked up the cards to shuffle.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSusan reached across the card table, placing her hand on Harry’s forearm. “Don’t you dare.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Huh?” Harry blinked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I’ll shuffle.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Are you calling me a cheat?” Harry’s voice rose.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“No, but you won the last hand, so it’s my turn to shuffle. Plus, what if you have a hot hand?” Susan used the gambling term.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I’d better tell that to my husband.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis evoked more laughter.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe lights flickered, once, twice, then no light.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Dammit,” Susan cursed the dark. “Stay put, ladies. I’ll get the candles.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“You need my little flashlight.” Harry reached into her pocket, pulling out a two-­and-­a-­half-­inch LED flashlight made in China.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSusan pressed the button. “Wow.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“What else do you have in your pocket?” Jessica asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“One pocketknife,” BoomBoom answered for Harry. “She always has a pocketknife and a little money.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“The emphasis is on little,” said Harry, emptying her pockets onto the card table as Susan returned with candles.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Let me help you.” Thanks to the tiny LED flashlight, Alicia could see. She reached for some candles.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“There’s a hurricane glass lamp. Well, here, let’s do it together. Girls, we’ll be right back.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTrue to her word, Susan and Alicia returned to the living room with small brass candleholders, which they placed about and lit. The large hurricane candleholder glowed on the card table. All held six-­ to eight-­inch candles.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSusan noticed the small pile of debris.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Harry, what’s your stuff doing on the card table?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Jessica wanted to know what was in my pocket.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“In the dark?” Susan questioned.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“We knew there’d be light,” Harry shot back.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJessica dutifully investigated the contents: one Case pocketknife, a folded cotton handkerchief, twenty-­two dollars in small bills, one dog cookie.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHarry pointed out the cookie. “Never know when I might get hungry.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe ladies laughed again as Alicia walked to the large triple-­sash windows. “Girls, we’re in for it.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“No kidding?” Harry hurried over, as did the others.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“The storm’s early.” BoomBoom, like all country people, paid intense attention to the weather.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“We have a little time before we need to worry about the roads,” Harry confidently predicted. “Everyone has four-­wheel drive, right?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“If not, I’m happy to sell you one.” Charlene smiled. She and her husband, Pete, owned the Ford dealership.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“We’re good,” the others replied.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Well, let’s not play cards by candlelight. Ladies, I whipped up vegetable hors d’oeuvres, and they’re really tasty, if I do say so myself. I can’t eat them all. You have to help me. Harry, use your flashlight again and let’s bring the food out from the kitchen. BoomBoom, you know where the bar is. Give the girls what they want.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBoomBoom picked up a candle as she glided to the well-­stocked bar. Susan’s husband, Ned, was a delegate to the state legislature in Richmond, and the couple entertained frequently. In this part of the world, good liquor was considered an essential by any host and hostess. Southerners did drink wine, but many still preferred a high-­octane bourbon or scotch, and then there were the legions of vodka drinkers who believed it didn’t linger on their breath.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOnce settled in the living room, comfortable in decidedly not-­modern décor, Jessica, curious, asked, “So what did happen to your Latin teacher?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Nobody knows.” BoomBoom shrugged. “She disappeared after a Friday-­night football game. Her car was in the parking lot. Monday, she didn’t come to school.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“We played the Louisa Dragons that night,” Harry recalled. “Good game. Miss Donleavey never missed a football game.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“She dated the coach, Mr. Toth,” Susan filled in. “Handsome, handsome, handsome.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Coach Toth? That Toth?” Jessica asked. “Silver Linings?” She mentioned a youth organization the coach supported, as did all the husbands of the women in the room. Apart from helping young men, business leaders and former athletes ran Silver Linings. To belong was beneficial to one’s career.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Jessica, this must be irritating, being in the middle of a bunch of old friends.” Harry handed her a napkin.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“No, it’s fascinating. A vanished Latin teacher.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“You know the stereotype of the old-­maid Latin teacher? Well, not Miss Donleavey. She was voluptuous, raven-­haired, so pretty,” BoomBoom noted, herself voluptuous.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Suspects?” Jessica’s eyebrows raised.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMiranda answered. “At first, people thought it might have been a rival of the coach’s. Men were crazy for her.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSusan added, “Lots of men were questioned. Everyone had an alibi.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Anyone else?” Jessica persisted.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Esther Mercier. Hated Miss Donleavey, just hated her.” Harry bit into a carrot incised with a tiny trench filled with rich cream cheese.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“In love with Coach Toth.” BoomBoom filled in facts. “An attractive enough woman, but not in Miss Donleavey’s league.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“What was her first name?” Jessica asked. “Miss Donleavey?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Uh, Margaret. It’s funny, but I still have a hard time calling my teachers by their first names. I mean, Coach Toth is always Coach Toth.” Susan smiled. “And eventually he did marry Miss Mercier, one of the math teachers.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“You’d think someone would have known something. Crozet is still a small place,” Charlene wondered.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“If they did, no one noticed. Crozet, like any place anywhere in the world, is full of secrets that people take to their graves,” Harry remarked. “Miss Donleavey’s kin, all older, are gone. It’s one of those persistent small-­town mysteries.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Well, people don’t just disappear off the face of the earth.” Alicia twirled a fresh bit of broccoli.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“The Black Dahlia,” BoomBoom countered.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“You’re right, to a degree,” said Alicia. “ ’Course, I wasn’t in Hollywood then. And she didn’t disappear, Sweetie. They never found the killer.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“You’re right.” BoomBoom got up and walked over to the window, nose almost on the windowpane. “It’s really coming down now. We’d all better head home.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Let me help you clean up,” Harry offered.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A tray of vegetables and a couple of glasses? Anyway, no power, no water. Go on. If your cellphones don’t work you can still text if you have a Droid.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eArden said, “I hope the Silver Linings fund-­raiser isn’t canceled.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“We’ll cross our fingers.” Charlene crossed hers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAfter a long, careful drive, Harry slowly finally drove down her long farm driveway, windshield wipers flipping as fast as they could. She pulled in front of the old white frame farmhouse, cut the motor, the lights with it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGolden candlelight cascaded over the snow. The frosted windows glowed pale gold, the wavy imperfections of the hand­blown glass all the more obvious with the candles behind her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Mom’s home.” Inside the house, Tucker the corgi barked joyfully.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePewter flopped on the kitchen table, lifted her head. “About time.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMrs. Murphy, the tiger cat, walked alongside Fair, Harry’s husband, as he opened the kitchen door to the porch. He carried a huge flashlight, which he focused on the path to the back porch, screened-­in in summer, glassed-­in in winter.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Honey, I’m glad you’re home.” He stepped into the snow.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Fair, get back inside. I can see.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe didn’t, of course, kissing her as she hurried onto the porch, Tucker and Mrs. Murphy at her feet.New York Times bestseller; It takes a cat to write the purr-fect mystery","brand":"Bantam","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46300810182885,"sku":"NP9780345530516","price":8.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780345530516.jpg?v=1767733759","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/nine-lives-to-die-isbn-9780345530516","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}