The Case of the Chrysanthemum Murders, Book 5 in the cozy mystery series “The Augusta McKee Mysteries”, is now available for purchase on Amazon in paperback and Kindle editions! We’re excited to bring you an excerpt from this highly anticipated next chapter in Augusta and Malcolm’s story.
McKee, former opera singer and professor of music for two Cincinnati colleges, is enjoying her idyllic European honeymoon with Homicide Detective Malcolm Mitchell––until the day a fellow faculty member at the Conservatory of Music, a violinist and member of the Chrysanthemum String Quartet, is found dead in the same Paris hotel where they are staying. Within a week, a second member of the same quartet dies in Cincinnati under suspicious circumstances.
Malcolm and Augusta find themselves on the case in this gripping international murder mystery––uncovering clues and searching for suspects before the Chrysanthemum String Quartet plays their final note.
Set in Cincinnati in the mid-nineteen-sixties. Here’s the excerpt:
“Oh, what a stroke of luck,” Augusta jabbed Milly in the ribs. “This is her.”
“Funny, she doesn’t look like a killer.”
Augusta pulled forward and found a turnaround. “Wonder where she’s headed.”
“Augusta, I highly doubt Malcolm would approve of this. What the hell are you doing?”
“Just curious.” She slowed and watched the woman walk into the pharmacy in the next block. “I’ll just pull up here for a few minutes.”
“When she comes out, she’s going to spot you.” Milly leaned against the dashboard, turned and glared at Augusta. “You found out what you wanted, right? If you’re both hanging around the opera these days, why don’t you just talk to her?”
“Shush. All will be revealed in time.”
Fifteen minutes passed, with Milly increasingly fidgety. “Can we go now?”
“Not yet. Milly, I need you to go in there and see what she’s doing.”
“Not on your life. Malcolm is going to be furious about this. You are going to tell him, aren’t you?”
“Just walk in there and look around, see what she’s doing, and then come right back out.”
“No, I guess you aren’t going to tell him.”
“I’ll tell him eventually. Please just do it.”
Milly glared at Augusta but did as requested, clambering out of the car and slamming the door. Augusta laughed aloud, having a Rocky-Bullwinkle-Boris-Natasha moment, recalling the cartoon character femme fatale Russian spy saying in her smoky voice: “Ve haf ways of making you talk. Right, Boris, dahlink?”