Deadly Summer Nights (A Catskill Summer Resort Mystery, Band 1) - Softcover

Delany, Vicki

Softcover

ISBN 10: 059333437X ISBN 13: 9780593334379

Verlag: Berkley, 2021

Inhaltsangabe

"An immersive setting with details of running a Catskillsresort in the 1950s (think Kellerman’s in Dirty Dancing) beautifully frame a story with plot twists and a cast of well-delineated characters."--Booklist

A summer of fun at a Catskills resort comes to an abrupt end when a guest is found murdered, in this new 1950s set mystery series.
 
It’s the summer of 1953, and Elizabeth Grady is settling into Haggerman’s Catskills Resort. As a vacation getaway, Haggerman’s is ideal, and although Elizabeth’s ostentatious but well-meaning mother is new to running the resort, Elizabeth is eager to help her organize the guests and the entertainment acts. But Elizabeth will have to resort to untested abilities if she wants to save her mother’s business.

When a reclusive guest is found dead in a lake on the grounds, and a copy of The Communist Manifesto is found in his cabin, the local police chief is convinced that the man was a Russian spy. But Elizabeth isn’t so sure, and with the fate of the resort hanging in the balance, she’ll need to dodge red herrings, withstand the Red Scare, and catch a killer red-handed.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Vicki Delany is the author of the Year-Round Christmas Mysteries, the Constable Molly Smith Mysteries, and, writing as Eva Gates, the Lighthouse Library Mysteries.

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Chapter 1

 

7

 

"My neighbor Mrs. Francesco heard him at a club in the city. Vulgar, unamusing, and all-around offensive were the words she used. As if that wasn't bad enough, he was even worse the second night!" Mrs. Brownville blew a plume of smoke into my face. I gave her my best professional smile, but it wasn't easy.

 

"She was so offended she went a second time?"

 

"They were taken by friends. Please keep up, dear. One doesn't refuse the hospitality of friends." Another plume of smoke lunged toward me.

 

I tried not to cough at the same time I struggled to keep my smile fixed to my face. Mr. and Mrs. Brownville were here for four weeks. They'd taken one of the best lakefront cabins in order to have room for a rotating roster of visiting friends and relations. At Haggerman's Catskills Resort we were not so flush with high-paying guests I could afford to offend one.

 

"Don't just stand there gaping, girl. What are you going to do about it?" Mrs. Brownville was in her sixties, and she was a woman not to be trifled with: approaching six feet tall, broad-chested, broad-shouldered, midnight-black hair sprayed into an unmovable object, small, dark intense eyes. She wore a powder-blue wool suit over a blue blouse with a floppy bow tied at the neck, and blue shoes with kitten heels. Not what most people would consider appropriate attire for a hot summer's day in the Catskills, but I'd never seen her in anything but a designer suit of one shade of pastel or another.

 

I glanced around, seeking escape. To my dismay, none was forthcoming.

 

"Elizabeth Grady, are you listening to me? Or must I speak to your mother?"

 

"No need to bother Olivia, ma'am," I said. "She trusts me to make decisions regarding the running of Haggerman's." I cleared my throat. "I'll have a chat with our entertainment director and with Mr. Simmonds himself to ensure he's fully aware that at Haggerman's Catskills Resort we're proud of our family-friendly reputation." We didn't actually employ an entertainment director, but I decided not to mention that the task of hiring entertainers, along with so many others, largely fell to me.

 

"You do that. I will, of course, be in the audience to be sure that his entire act is acceptable for young people and ladies."

 

Not a good idea. Charlie Simmonds was a rapidly rising comedian in the smoke-filled clubs of New York City and in the equally smoke-filled lounges of the Catskills precisely because he was, supposedly, cutting-edge and risquŽ. New York City comedians weren't normally hired as children's entertainers. Or to pass muster by the likes of Mrs. Brownville, always on the lookout for something to be offended about.

 

I shifted from one foot to the other. Mrs. Brownville had waylaid me on the lakefront path at midday. The hot sun beamed down, the air almost dripped with humidity, and I was dressed in work attire of stockings and a girdle under a blue-and-yellow-print dress that fell slightly below my knees, with a Peter Pan collar and long sleeves. I thought fondly of the pretty sundress I hadn't had a chance to wear yet. Too informal for a professional woman on a working day, my mother sniffed when she suggested (ordered?) that I change.

 

"I have to point out, Mrs. Brownville," I said, "that Mr. Simmonds will be doing two shows each day for the three days he's engaged to be at Haggerman's. A family-friendly performance at nine and a more . . . adult-oriented one at eleven, following the dessert buffet."

 

Surely Mrs. Brownville would be long abed by eleven. A day spent finding fault with everything and everyone had to be exhausting.

 

"Adults," she pronounced, "also need to be protected from filth. I will attend both shows this evening. Now, about the other matter I wanted to discuss with you." She dropped the end of her cigarette onto the path and rummaged in her cavernous handbag for the pack.

 

Attempting to be discreet, I moved my right foot and ground out the still-lit end before it could set the whole place on fire. I checked my watch. "Will you look at the time. I have to be off. I have . . . uh . . . something important to do."

 

"Won't take long." She popped a fresh Lucky Strike into her lipsticked mouth, flicked the gold engraved lighter, lit the cigarette, and took a deep breath.

 

Unfortunately, Mrs. Brownville can talk while smoking. I suspect Mrs. Brownville can talk while sleeping. Another smoky plume wafted my way. I held my own breath.

 

"I'll walk with you, Elizabeth," she said. "The exercise will do me good. Don't just stand there, girl. Let's go. About the chicken ˆ la king served last night at dinner. I myself am blessed with the constitution of my Scottish forebears. Hearty Highland stock the lot of them, but Mr. Brownville is not so fortunate. He-"

 

My heart leapt for joy as I spotted salvation heading my way. "Randy! Randy!" I waved my arms and called.

 

Randy Fontaine, the resort's aquatic director, swimming instructor, and head lifeguard, saw me, and who I was with, a second too late. He knew I knew he'd seen me and turning tail and fleeing would not be a good career move. His eyes stopped darting about, seeking escape, and he slapped on a big smile. "Good morning, Mrs. Grady, Mrs. Brownville. Beautiful day, isn't it? Don't let me keep you."

 

"Randy," I said. "It's almost lunchtime, so you have no appointments for the next while. Mrs. Brownville and I were chatting about the meals. You know that's primarily the domain of Chef Leonardo and Rosemary, but I'm always happy to hear what our guests have to suggest about the food we serve here at Haggerman's. Why don't you escort Mrs. Brownville to lunch and report back to me later?"

 

"Uh-" he said.

 

"Excellent idea." Mrs. Brownville grabbed Randy's bare arm and hauled him away. I couldn't help but notice they didn't take the most direct route to the main building. She'd want all her friends, and all her enemies, to see her hanging on the arm of our tall, blond, tanned, muscular swimming instructor. He'd pulled a shirt on over his bathing suit to take his break, but he hadn't done up the buttons.

 

A slim figure slipped out of the bushes lining the path and fell into step next to me. "I saw that. Nicely done. Let Randy earn his wages for a change."

 

"I think Randy more than earns his wages," I said. "I'm convinced some of the young women, and the older women, too, rent other people's kids so they can watch them taking Randy's swimming classes."

 

Velvet McNally laughed. "You're probably right about that. I've had a couple of the daughters ask me if he gives private lessons."

 

I didn't laugh in return. "I hope you squashed any mention of that. I do not need trouble from irate fathers."

 

"Even Randy, as confident as he is about his supposed appeal to women, knows better, Elizabeth. That is, I hope he does."

 

"'Supposed appeal?'" I asked.

 

Her eyes, the color of lake water on a sunny day, slid to one side. "I've been told women find him attractive. Can't see it myself."

 

We walked up the path together, taking our time, enjoying each other's company. Velvet had been my best friend all through school and into our adulthood, and I'd managed to lure her away from her dreams of stardom to join the staff here at Haggerman's. Velvet's ambition in life was to be a professional show dancer, like my mother. Like my mother, and totally unlike me, she was graced with the perfect dancer's body: all sharp angles and jutting...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Berkley
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2021
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 059333437X
• ISBN 13: 9780593334379
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 304
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: BERKLEY; https://www.penguin.com/?s=BERKLEY; ; Unit 2 Limavady Business Park; Limavady; County Londonderry; BT49 0HR; Vereinigtes Königreich
• Verantwortliche Person: preigu; mail@preigu.de; ; Lengericher Landstr. 19; Osnabrück; 49078; Deutschland