Aunt Dimity and the Family Tree (Aunt Dimity Mystery)
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The gentle spirit's sixteenth adventure is a New York Times bestseller and as "cozy and charming as a cup of Earl Grey" (Bookpage.com).
After a dizzying time Down Under, Lori Shepherd returns to Finch and finds that her wealthy father-in-law, William Willis, Sr., has just purchased a splendid ten-acre estate nearby. While William fends off local ladies intent on romance, Lori oversees the painstaking restoration of a peculiar painting found during renovations. It's nothing Lori can't handle-until moving furniture, strange sounds, and the theft of the painting prompt her to call on Aunt Dimity for help uncovering the estate's shadowy past.
floor.” “Perhaps it will look better in the light of day,” Willis, Sr., suggested. “I doubt it,” said Bill, easing himself into his armchair. “Did you assist the young people with their luggage?” asked Willis, Sr. “I carried a suitcase from the van to the elevator,” Bill replied, “but Declan said he could take it from there. I think he felt awkward, having his boss’s son lug gear for him, so I left him to it. Deirdre’s already busy in the kitchen. They must be starving.” He leaned back in the
felt like a cub reporter on the verge of landing her first big scoop: Legal Eagle in Covert Confab with La Señora. I wasn’t sure if Sally’s pickle could live up to the hype surrounding it but I was champing at the bit to find out what it was all about. When it came to being a dyed-in-the-wool busybody, my neighbors had nothing on me. I was halfway down the central corridor when Deirdre Donovan strode into the entrance hall from the morning room. She’d evidently discovered that Fairworth House
Taylor opined. “One solitary woman can’t keep up with the dusting at Fairworth House.” “Or polish the silver,” said Selena Buxton. “Or mop the floors,” said Elspeth Binney. “Or beat the rugs,” said Millicent Scroggins. “We’ll see,” I said. “Bree Pym missed church again,” Peggy Taxman bellowed. She jutted her chin toward the headstone over which Bill and Willis, Sr., were standing. “Ruth and Louise would turn in their graves if they knew how often their great-grandniece sleeps in on Sunday
said skeptically. “It’ll be more difficult than you can possibly imagine. When it comes to spying, the villagers make the CIA look like a bunch of bumbling amateurs.” “Difficult’s better than dull,” Declan observed, laughing. He hoisted the painting into his arms. “Work to do, ladies. I’d best be off.” “You’ll have to excuse me as well, Lori,” Deirdre said. “Lady Sarah’s suite needs dusting and the blue suite needs to be aired. After I’ve finished upstairs, I’ll come back here and clean up the
London, I ... I didn’t lock our doors.” “So what?” I said. “I never lock my doors. I don’t think there’s a locked door in the village, except maybe at Fairworth House and that’s only because William’s new here. Finch isn’t a locked-door kind of place.” “That’s what we thought,” Grant said mournfully. “Until today.” “Today’s an aberration. Don’t let it destroy your peace of mind.” I put a comforting hand on his arm. “Did the constable discover any clues?” “Not a sausage,” said Grant. “I