After a somewhat long and, at times, strange courtship, Claire Malloy -- a single, widowed mother of a teenage daughter and a bookseller in Farberville, Arkansas - has finally said 'I do' to her swain, Lt. Peter Rosen of the Farberville Police Department. Now they are on their honeymoon in Luxor, Egypt. Well, Claire is on her honeymoon - accompanied by Caron, her teenaged daughter, and Inez, Caron's best friend and frequent partner in adventure. Peter is mostly away on various mysterious consultations with equally mysterious government agencies is his new, completely undiscussed, role in law enforcement. Staying at the glamorous Winter Palace in Luxor, Claire is intent on a quiet, uneventful honeymoon involving shopping, tourist sites, and, when it can’t avoided, drinks with the local British expatriate contingent. But despite her determined efforts to avoid any involvement in criminous events, the tenor of the trip quickly switches from bucolic to creepy. First, Caron and Inez are chased through darkened deserted alleys by persons unknown. Then a blond college student of their recent acquaintance is kidnapped by two young men on horseback in a scene reminiscent of a Rudolf Valentino film. Something is clearly afoot in this tourist paradise, and now Claire will stop at nothing to find out what. Bookstore owner Claire Malloy, of Farberville, Arkansas, is on her honeymoon in fascinating Luxor, Egypt, in this seventeenth in the series. Unfortunately, her law-enforcement husband, Peter Rosen, is on assignment in Egypt, leaving them little time alone. Because of Peter’s expected absences, Claire has brought along her teenage daughter, Caron, and Caron’s best friend, Inez. Claire’s reputation as a crime solver has preceded her, and a group of eccentric, elderly residents of their hotel, the Winter Palace, can’t wait to meet her. A kidnapping, two murders, and Caron and Inez’s pursuit by an unknown assailant leave Claire plenty to investigate while she visits Egypt’s treasured ancient sites. The sights and sounds of modern-day Luxor frame the story, and the history of ancient Egypt is also palpable, thanks to walking-encyclopedia Inez, who never misses an opportunity to bring her companions and the reader up to speed on what happened when. Humor, quirky characters, a rich mother-daughter relationship, and the fresh setting all add to this satisfying addition to Hess’ long-running series. --Sue O'Brien “Hess writes this series with a wickedly funny sense of humor. Anyone looking to be amused by a wildly entertaining series will have a good time.” – Mystery Scene on Out on a Limb “Breezy and delightful…Claire Malloy is one of the most engaging narrators in mystery.” – The Drood Review “Fresh and funny…[Hess’s] trademark humor is stamped on every page. Fans will find much to enterain.” – Publishers Weekly on The Goodbye Body Joan Hess is the author of both the Claire Malloy and the Maggody mystery series. She is a winner of the American Mystery Award, a member of Sisters in Crime, and a former president of the American Crime Writers League. She lives in Fayetteville, Arkansas. Chapter 1 “Those Do Not look like camels to me.” “That’s because they’re horses.” “Where are the camels?” “How should I know?” “You’re the one who said there’d be camels all over the place.” “I did not!” “You did so!” What a dandy way to start a honeymoon, I thought as I came into the parlor of the suite. My daughter, Caron, and her best friend, Inez, were on the balcony, engaged in what was clearly an argument of cosmic significance. I felt as if I’d been flattened by a giant waffle iron. The three of us had left Farberville many hours ago, possibly even days ago. We’d flown to Dallas, then Atlanta, then Frankfurt, followed by a six-hour layover and a flight to Cairo. After an interminable time snaking through customs at that airport, we’d flown on to Luxor. A lovely man whose name I did not remember had met us at the gate, collected our luggage, and whisked us to the hotel. Although the sun was still shining, I’d brushed my teeth and collapsed in bed. Now, showered and wearing the terry-cloth bathrobe I’d found in the bathroom, I joined the girls on the balcony. The view was dazzling. Below us were terraces delineated with marble rails, a lush garden of shady grass and cheerful flowers, and beyond those the corniche, a boulevard that ran alongside the Nile. The medians were dotted with palm trees, shrubs, and minimal litter. Boxy metal cruise ships were docked at a large concrete pier, and small boats with triangular sails sliced through the brown water. On the other side of the river, hostile mountains dominated the horizon. There was no trace of vegetation on the slopes, only rocks and sheer cliffs. The fabled West Bank, with its Valley of the Kings and, somewhere to the south, the Valley of the Queens. The pharaohs, it seemed, preferred separate accommodations, even in the next world. “Horse-drawn carriages and frenetic little