The author of Book Fair and Foul reconvenes the Ashton Corners book club to solve a murder in their own backyard . . . Bob Miller, retired police chief and member of the Ashton Corners Mystery Readers and Cheese Straws Society, is stunned by the arrival of his twenty-one-year-old granddaughter, Darla, whom he has never seen. Bob has been estranged from his own daughter for decades and hopes to make up for his absence in Darla’s life. But some of the ladies of the book club find their Southern hospitality strained as they question the motives behind this sudden reunion. After a dead man is found in Molly Mathews’s backyard, their concerns grow more serious. Lizzie Turner saw Darla arguing with the stranger the day before, but when the police question her, Darla proves to be an unreliable narrator. It’s up to the book club to uncover the real story . . . before another victim is written into the plot. Praise for the Aston Corners Book Club Mysteries: "Southern charm, excellent reading suggestions, and an engaging amateur sleuth."--Miranda James, New York Times bestselling author of the Cat in the Stacks Mysteries "Books, cats, and a tenderhearted sleuth, a perfect combination!"--Krista Davis, New York Times bestselling author of the Domestic Diva Mysteries "A terrific debut!"--Mary Jane Maffini "Readers should have high hopes for this series."--Avery Aames Erika Chase is the Agatha Award-nominated author of the Ashton Corners Book Club Mystery series, including Book Fair and Foul , Cover Story , Read and Buried , and A Killer Read . Acknowledgments Chapter One Won’t it? Well, we’ll just have to wait and see. Won’t we? THE CARE AND MANAGEMENT OF LIES— JACQUELINE WINSPEAR “I’m telling you right now, sugar, I’m leaning toward bumping off Clyde Worsten rather than having to deal with him one minute longer,” Teensy Coldicutt said with a dramatic sigh. Lizzie Turner almost dropped the mini triple chocolate cupcake she’d just rescued from the serving tray on the wicker patio table next to her. She shot a glance at Molly Mathews, who started laughing, much to Lizzie’s surprise. “Don’t look so distressed, Lizzie,” Molly said between chuckles. “Teensy’s talking about her new book, aren’t you?” She shifted her glance to her childhood friend of over sixty years. Teensy looked around at the three other women in Molly’s sunroom and burst out into her own deep belly laugh. “Oh, my. Of course your mind went straight to the worst, Lizzie. Being such a great fan of mysteries, and I might add, a dynamite crime fighter, I can see as that would happen. But Mopsy is right. Clyde Worsten was going to be the hero on my latest novel, Divine Secrets of Desire , but he’s not cooperating at all, at all. So, he’s either going to be the victim, or if he gets me really riled, I’ll turn him into a murderer. Serve him right if he has to spend the rest of his life in jail.” “Mopsy,” Sally-Jo Baker stated with a grin. “It still takes me by surprise sometimes when I hear you use Molly’s childhood nickname.” “And I didn’t know you were writing a mystery, Teensy,” said Lizzie. “Goodness gracious, of course not. My forte is romance and I’m into another hot plot I want you to know, but that doesn’t mean I can’t throw in a dead body or two if the characters don’t shape up and cooperate.” Lizzie shook her head. “I’d heard that writers talk about their characters taking over a story.” Teensy leapt up from the white wicker love seat with more energy than most women her size. Her hairstyle, a dramatic wedge, had changed since the last time her friends had seen her, from a bright orange-red to a vivid dark red with a broad white streak sweeping across her brow. The black leggings, smock-necked orange and green long-sleeved blouson, and four-inch sandals contrasted with Molly’s classic cream ensemble of casual pants and silk blouse. Lizzie marveled at the many differences between the two longtime friends. “Oh, believe me, they do,” Teensy said. “And, I’m just bursting to tell you both about my news.” Molly looked up from the Wedding Bells magazine she was perusing. “You have a publisher?” “Right in one, Mopsy. Remember poor Nick Jennings, the editor at Crawther Publishing? Well, it looked like he needed someone to talk to when he was in town after that tragedy last fall, so I befriended him, and one thing led to another.” Molly wasn’t able to suppress her gasp. “No.” “Oh, Molly. There’s hope for you yet, but that’s not what I meant. We started talking about writing, and I told him of the great success my first book had garnered around here, and he said he’d take a look at my new manuscript. So, maybe it’s not a done deal but I know that when he reads the first three chapters and synopsis I’ve just sent him, I’ll be signing on the dotted line.” Lizzie fervently hoped that would be the case. Of course, she knew nothing about Crawther Publishing and their lines, except for the mysteries they had showcased at the book fair held in Ash