How I Spent My Summer Vacation (Amanda Pepper, Book 5)
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Amanda Pepper's friend Sasha has a photography assignment in Atlantic City, and she invites her broke schoolteacher friend to come along for a free mini-vacation. But the two quickly discover there's more to lose than money at the shore when Sasha finds a stranger bludgeoned to death in her bed. When a witness identifies Sasha as having been at the scene, she Goes Directly To Jail and does not pass "Go." Under the boardwalk and between the slot machines, and sometimes with the help of a motley crew of gamblers, Amanda works to unearth the truth and free her friend.
suspect. I couldn’t think my way past the bloody slip or the business card in her slacks, or the witness or the door key. The only possible route around that seemed with Dunstan, who, I hoped, wouldn’t turn out to be part of the crime, the second man the witness saw. I stood up. “We have to find that lousy date of hers.” Mackenzie’s expression was blank, as if he’d turned off his mind. “Not now, surely,” he murmured. “I was plannin’ on maybe a little rest. It’s nearly tomorrow. My eyes feel
There was a great deal about the esteemed Mr. Reese, advisor and teacher, protector of what he’d called the “potentially dispossessed.” There was mention of the first Mrs. R. and of the present wife, Poppy Summerfield Reese, a former Miss America contestant. There was also an unfortunate overabundance of information about Sasha Berg. This included, much to my horror, mention that she had once been the companion of a reputed gangland figure, the late Peter “Dimples” Bosco, who had, by
grudgingly. “This is really decent of you.” He grinned, quite pleased with himself. “This whole business is an elaborate ruse to get your attention. I had a fear it was wanin’ back in the city, so I set all of this up.” I put my arm on his sleeve. The feel of worn-soft broadcloth over worked-hard muscle was tempting. There were better ways to spend the day than what faced both of us, much better ways to perk up the waning attention. Although, of course, I had come here to decide whether or not
refutations. First theory. Mackenzie’s heart broke. Literally. Heartbroken suitor—with my name in his wallet—requiring hospitalization. Extremely romantic. A reunion at bedside, complete with violin background. Second theory. Mackenzie was dead. The man from the hospital cleared his throat, hiding in my time warp, afraid to break the news. They must rotate the chore, take turns, punish employees by forcing them to make these calls. Food poisoning. Something he bought en route to the hotel.
that physics? Too late to find out, except by experiment. I took a deep breath, looked her in the eye, and raised my knee as hard as I could, as fast as I could. It didn’t have the same dramatic effect as it would have with a man. All the same, it surprised her and threw her off balance, which was enough. Her grip on me loosened, and I pushed and kicked. Even better, her grip on the knife also loosened. It clattered to the boards as she staggered back. “Lookit!” A ten-year-old boy in a T-shirt