Showing results for "Hit" in Women Sleuths

A money-laundering accountant disappears in Romania. The hitman hired to disappear him is found dead in a Glasgow flat. And the owner of the flat, the accountant's widow, claims she knows nothing about it. Crime reporter Rosie Gilmour isn't convinced by Helen Lewis's innocent facade - she is convinced Helen was the one who ordered the hit on her husband, and she's going to prove it.

Second day back at work. Detective Chief Inspector Janine Lewis drops off her seven-year-old son at school. As she drives off, a car breaks fiercely with a squealing sound. Janine sees the child flung to one side, the small body flying limp like a puppet, then landing hard. With a sickening feeling, Janine recognizes her as Tom’s classmate—Ann-Marie Chinley. Janine gives chase, but the hit-and-run driver gets away. When she finally gets to work she hears a body has been fished out of the river. The victim is in her early twenties, newly pregnant, malnourished as a child.

In the second book of the Jocelyn O’Roarke series, New York’s most hated theater critic has been poisoned. Now the question is: Who isn't a suspect? A lot of people have good reason to despise Jason Saylin. He has earned a reputation as New York’s most scathing - and powerful - theater critic. After-parties at his penthouse apartment are the most exclusive in the city. But Jason has one weakness: an illness that he is desperate to hide. His illness is revealed in grandiose fashion when Jason staggers into a room during a party and falls dead on the floor.

The Château du Ciel was once the destination for the rich and famous to play, drink and ski—complete with a private railway to shuttle those desiring extra privacy—now, however, the guests are few and far between. The New Year’s Eve party was supposed to hoist the rundown hotel back to its former status, until a massive blizzard hits, trapping the guests who’ve come to celebrate the grand hotel’s last hurrah. The circumstances might even be romantic, if the hotel wasn't reputed to be haunted.

A smart woman would dump her cheating ex, move from the city, and give herself a chance for a do-over. A smarter woman wouldn’t jump out of that same frying pan and return to Cape Discovery. I’m a high school counsellor turned new owner of Unraveled, my granddad’s yarn store in town. More exciting than a delivery of rainbow colored wool is the news of movie location scouts in the area. I can’t help being caught up in movie fever, until I stumble onto one of those landowners, face down in a kitty litter tray.