The Alpine Winter (Emma Lord)
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The picturesque town of Alpine in the Cascade Mountains is decked out in Christmas cheer, but at the Alpine Advocate, editor and publisher Emma Lord is fretting over how her brother and her son—both priests—will react to her affair with Sheriff Milo Dodge. Another family is singing the blues when Postmaster Roy Everson shows up with bones that may belong to his mother, who’s been missing for sixteen years. But the most disturbing discovery is the decomposed corpse found in a cave on Mount Sawyer. When Milo returns from his own family ordeal, he and Emma try to find time away from the unnerving investigation to reunite. But they’ve drawn the attention of a dogged killer who thinks the lovers’ bliss is to die for . . . literally. Scandal, intrigue, desire, and untimely death are the ingredients in Mary Daheim’s deliciously chilling holiday treat.
“[An] enduring favorite . . . [Mary] Daheim takes her readers back to the quaint little town of Alpine, Wash., where murder and mayhem always seem to be on the back burner.”—Wichita Falls Times Record News
“Daheim keeps this long-running series lively with generous helpings of small-town chatter, charm and middle-age romance.”—Kirkus Reviews
“Daheim is one of the brightest stars in our city’s literary constellation.”—The Seattle Times
Includes an excerpt of Mary Daheim’s next Emma Lord mystery, The Alpine Xanadu
similar problem when some idiot tried to steal Jim’s plane last June. Everything has to go through the FAA these days since 9/11.” “How,” I asked, “could anyone but a hijacker steal a plane?” “The same way cars are stolen,” Melody replied. “We keep the Cessna at Harvey Field in Snohomish. They’re very tight about security, but a young man with a pilot’s license talked his way in, saying he was doing a favor for a friend. Luckily, he couldn’t get the Cessna to taxi onto the field. Rupert—a
abandoning Grace. “I’m glad your family’s coming for Christmas.” She glanced at the produce section, where her brother-in-law, Buzzy, was unloading a pallet of Idaho potatoes. “It’s a tough one for us.” I nodded. “How are Buzzy and Laura doing? I’ve hardly seen them since Mike was killed.” “They keep a low profile,” Betsy said, stepping aside for a young woman pushing a toddler in a grocery cart. “Especially Laura. She’s always been quiet. I put her to work in the storeroom. She needs to stay
has to be somebody out there who doesn’t like you. If we rule out your priests as targets, this is personal.” “Are your deputies watching the Advocate?” Milo nodded. “I’ve got Ron Bjornson keeping an eye on it.” Ron, whose other job was college security, worked part-time for the sheriff as a handyman. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any potatoes.” “You mean that aren’t frozen?” He shook his head. “Frozen works.” I went to the freezer. “I need an ice pick to …” I recognized Milo’s cell ring.
“Yes. Call Henry Bardeen. Ask about his new hire, Libby or …” I paused, trying to recall the formal name of the waitress who’d served us at the dinner with Marisa. “Livna, I think. She’s Durgan’s girlfriend.” Milo’s eyes sparked. “You think she’s the one Troy was after?” “It sounds crazy, but Vida had something about her in ‘Scene.’ What if Troy was trying to find her instead of his parents?” “That’s a stretch.” But Milo shrugged. “Is Kip going to the lodge?” “Yes, around noon.” He checked
triggered by our public displays of affection, but I think this has been festering inside Curtis much longer. You were gone for three weeks, so he couldn’t get both of us.” “That’s the weird part,” Milo said, looking chagrined. “Curtis went back to the Seattle area after he left Alpine. He grew up on the Eastside, but his parents had split up while he was in college. They’d set up some kind of trust for him, which is where he got the money for the Nelson kids. Maybe they knew he was weird—both