Arsenic in the Azaleas:



Day 1, Wednesday: The First Day of the Rest of Her Life…

This is what she’d come to? A thirty-five-year-old soon-to-be divorcée, penniless, living in her grandmother’s dilapidated home? Doreen Merriweather—back to Doreen Montgomery now—parked her aging Honda Civic in the driveway of what was her new residence in the Lower Mission area of Kelowna, British Columbia. And stared.

Goodness. This was not how she remembered the house. It was just another lump to take in a long line of lumps she’d already taken.

She blew the errant curls of blond hair off her face. The warm spring sunshine highlighted the two-story house’s ancient clapboard siding, windows in desperate need of cleaning. Shutters in need of paint or repair, and a roof more covered in moss than shingles. It had a lost-in-time and forgotten-by-the-world air to it.

She could relate.

For just a moment she allowed herself to wallow in self-pity. Her previous home had been an eight-thousand-square-foot mansion in West Vancouver with an in-ground pool and four staff to look after it and her soon-to-be ex-husband—and now Doreen’s younger replacement. A smart Barbie doll of twenty-eight. A very smart Barbie doll, as Doreen had found out belatedly.

“Just be grateful you have a home at all,” she reminded herself. “Without Nan giving this place to me, we’d be on the street at this point.” Feeling better, she turned to her pedigreed basset hound, Mugford Horace III, but Mugs to her, and said, “Right, boy?”

He gave her a droopy-eyed look.

“I know. You’re not impressed either. Still, it’s what we have, and we’re thankful for Nan’s generosity.” Just because Doreen’s life had changed, didn’t mean she wasn’t up for the challenge. She knew there would be days when it would all seem to be too much. But she should be used to that as it described most of the last six years of her marriage anyway.

Doreen had signed the separation forms some two weeks after her husband had asked her to leave their house and their marriage. Right before Thanksgiving, in fact. On her lawyer’s advice, Doreen signed the divorce settlement papers as well—to have it all over with, even though the divorce couldn’t be filed until after she and her husband had been separated for a year. This way offers minimal emotional pain for you, Doreen. You can move on without having to revisit the painful time in your life.

Only, shortly after signing all those papers, Doreen had found out that her divorce lawyer was her husband’s lover… Yeah, life’s a bitch.

And so was her divorce lawyer.

She hadn’t figured out what to do about it yet—if anything. Part of her wanted to walk away and leave him to his money—and new girlfriend. Another part of her wanted to fight him tooth and nail and take the house right out from under him.

But how?

She had no money. Or connections. And although her lawyer was as crooked as they came, how did she trust another one to help her right the wrongs done?


Included in this bundle:

Arsenic in the Azaleas
Bones in the Begonias
Corpse in the Carnations
Dagger in the Dahlias
Evidence in the Echinacea
Footprints in the Ferns
Gun in the Gardenias
Handcuffs in the Heather
Ice Pick in the Ivy
Jewels in the Juniper