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Murder Under the Tree

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During the season of peace on earth, good will to men, Kay uncovers sinister plots of corruption at a retirement home, while investigating the suspicious death of a beloved caretaker.
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Sales price: $3.95
Sales price without tax: $5.95
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Author: Susan Bernhardt
Description
Murder Under the Tree
by Susan Bernhardt
A Kay Driscoll Mystery Book 2
Genre  Cozy Mystery
Tags  Murder Under the Tree, Christmas, holiday, amateur sleuth, woman sleuth, cozy mystery, mystery, Kay Driscoll, The Ginseng Conspiracy, Susan Bernhardt, retirement home, New Years Eve / Day, patisserie, music, Italy, snow, corruption, justice, Dickens, winter.
Release  November 14, 2014
Editor  June Diehl
Cover Designer  Cora Graphics
Pages  269
ISBN 978-1-77127-633-7
Price  $5.95

Back Cover

While Kay attends a Christmas tea at Hawthorne Hills Retirement Home, a beloved caretaker dies from an allergic reaction to peanuts. When the official coroner's report rules the cause of death to be accidental, a small group of residents suspect foul play and call upon Kay to investigate.

Kay uncovers sinister plots of fraud, revenge, and corruption at the Home. During this season of peace on earth, good will to men, additional murders occur. Despite multiple attempts on her life, and with the support once again of her best friends, Elizabeth and Deirdre, Kay continues her quest for bringing justice for the victims. Kay's first Christmas in Sudbury Falls is an unforgettable one, with equal amounts of celebration and danger. Tis the season to be sleuthing!


Excerpt

Two dark arms came from behind and grabbed the string of lights out from the tree, and strung them around my neck, pulling tight, squeezing my throat.

Intense fear overcame me, then panic. Couldn't breathe! I was going to die at the hands of an assassin. A few seconds later, my movements seemed automatic, each linked to the next. I grabbed at the string around my neck and tried to loosen it with both hands. The person clawed at my fingers, then pulled all the tighter. I desperately sought to draw air into my tortured lungs, but I was denied by the decorative noose that strangled me.

Struggling, I managed to twist my body around and saw a person dressed all in black, wearing a ski-mask. I wanted to reach for that mask and reveal the identity of this person who had twice assailed me, but I had both hands occupied, fighting the wire around my throat. The person pulled the string of lights even tighter. I kept hearing Phil's guitar. Would this be the last thing I heard: Phil playing that damned guitar? Then he started singing. My strength began leaving me and so I steeled myself for one final push for freedom. I kneed my attacker in the groin. That seemed to work; the person loosened their grip and took a step back for a second, moaning.

Tears streamed down my face as I gasped for air. A fleeting feeling of hope came over me having bought myself a brief reprieve from the onslaught. And then, with everything I had left in me, I went for the eyes with my thumbs.

I heard a scream. I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman.The attacker let loose. Lightheaded, I fell to the ground acknowledging that not many moments lay ahead for me. Next, I heard footsteps retreating in the snow, towards the wooded area behind our home. Why hadn't they finished me off? In the distance I heard another sound. Angels singing. The angels kept singing, coming nearer. Singing. Maybe I was dead. Whomever it was, must have finished me off. Why else would there be angels? The angels kept singing, then everything went black.

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