In Shooting Star, ninety-two-year-old poet Victoria Trumbull becomes embroiled in controversy at the community theater on Martha's Vineyard. The new artistic director has announced plans to replace local amateur talent with off-Island professionals, and the cast and crew react murderously. Victor...
This is one of the few MP3 audio books my library has and so it was the inaugural read on my iPod. The series has an interesting premise (92-year old reporter) however, with the exception of the occasional reference to antiquated equipment like typewriters, age has almost nothing to do with the ...
Victoria Trumbull, ninety-two-year-old native of Martha's Vineyard, is savoring the sea air over Vineyard Sound with her granddaughter, Elizabeth, when she spots a person who seems in trouble near the top of the cliff. Elizabeth goes for help, but it's too late--the man dies before he can be resc...
By the time he got home, the boys were fed and in bed. Sarah was knitting. Always knitting.“Soup’s on the stove,” she said. “She called again.”“I notified the phone company. Not much they can do.” LeRoy helped himself and sat down at the table opposite Sarah.“Who is she, Roy?”“How am I supposed t...
The death of Chief Medeiros's son was too appalling to discuss. The storm had moved on to the southwest and was now only a distant flicker and rumble in the evening sky. Domingo drove by way of Vineyard Haven. The power was still off and houses and shops were dark; the few streetlights that marke...
“Connections. You may be right, Mrs. Trumbull. The three murders might be connected, but damned if I can see how.” He looked out of the window. “Oh, for God’s sake.” West Tisbury’s police Bronco pulled into the drive. Victoria arose. “I’m getting out of here,” said Darcy. “Wait a bit.” Victoria w...
Two hours later, she was still there. Victoria had set the bottle of Dewar’s Scotch Whisky on the coffee table in front of Dorothy, who was now pouring herself a third glass. Victoria had hoped Dorothy might loosen up with a drink or two, but this was better than she had expected. Dorothy was qui...
Ambler Fieldstone was held at the Whaling Church at noon the next day. Rain fell steadily. The police had closed off Main Street and an overflow of mourners and celebrants waited on the brick sidewalk in the gray drizzle. Audrey Fieldstone, wearing a nicely fitted black silk designer suit that se...
A tall, nicely built young man with bright red, almost orange, hair got out and headed toward the house. She met him at the entry door. “Mrs. Trumbull? I’m Christopher Wrentham. I’d like to talk to you, if I may. Is this a bad time?” Victoria wasn’t sure whether this was a bad time or not. She wa...