Death of a Gardener (Book 3 Molly Masters Mysteries)

by Leslie O'Kane

  Tommy’s sons and Rachel were playing monkey-in-the-middle with a volleyball. He said his goodbyes to Lauren, anxious to spend time with our own children. Karen was running toward us as we stepped inside. I knelt, assuming she wanted to give us hugs, but she raced right by me.

  “Rachel’s outside. Can I go play with her?”

  “Sure,” I called as the screen door was already swinging shut behind her. Her nonchalance was my fault. I reminded myself, for not having told my children or Mom what I’d just been through.

  Nathan slumped down the stairs. He was frowning and looked to be on the verge of tears. “My ears are too big. And they’re pointy.”

  “Let me see,” Jim said, his voice full of feigned concern. He leaned over and looked at each of Nathan’s ears, clowning as if this were a doctor’s exam. “Nope. No points and no big ears here.”

  “They’re too big! I look like a jerk!”

  Already on my knees, I pulled Nathan into an unreciprocated hug. “They’re just the right size to hear your daddy and me tell you how handsome you are. And that we love you exactly the way you are.”

  “I’m an elf! I have the biggest ears in the whole world!” Nathan pulled away and stomped up the stairs.

  I looked up at Jim, who patted my shoulder as I rose.

  “Even our best child psychology is falling on deaf, though perfectly proportioned, ears. If only our children would at least pretend to listen to us.”

  “Hear, hear,” my mother murmured as she entered the room. “Aren’t you two supposed to be sharing a nice dinner right about now?” Without awaiting my reply, she handed me a sheet of paper. “This came out of your fax machine a minute ago. It’s from Tommy, but I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

  I read Tommy’s message and chuckled. He’d written:

  Hey, Molly, Just wanted to let you know, in case you had any doubts, I bought that diamond.

  A few minutes later, I sent him an eCard. On the top, I handwrote:

  Of course you did, Tommy. I guess this means you’re moving into Sherwood Forest for good.

  Beneath my words, I’d drawn a cartoon. A couple is standing in a desolated area. A tornado in the distance is full of houses. The woman says to the man, “Well, there goes the neighborhood.”

  Note from Molly Masters about the Author

  Leslie “Caine” O’Kane is my alter ego (although she would tell you that the reverse is actually true.) She is a certified decorator, an animal lover, a tennis player (though she has a caustic relationship with the net), and a hula-hoop dancer (but keeps bruising herself.) She is going to Aruba with her sister soon to celebrate yet another speed-limit birthday.

  Although Leslie has been a published author for more than 18 years, she has issues with self-promotion and is in a 12-step program to overcome her fear of newsletters, blogs, and publicizing her books through social media.

  Please help me push Leslie onto the next step by visiting her website and signing up for her newsletter and/or sending her an email to join her email list, and, if you are so inclined, “like” her Facebook page.

  Lastly, if you enjoyed this book, please write a review; apparently such things help authors to sell books and encourage them to write more. (Who knew?) If you send a copy of your review to her email she will send you a deeply felt personal thank you.

  P.S.

  I hope you will enjoy my next adventures in the Molly Masters Mystery Series: Death Comes to a Retreat. Thank you, dearest reader!

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you from the bottom of my heart to my wonderful, talented, writer friends, especially Francine Mathews, Claudia Mills, Phyllis Perry, Elizabeth Wrenn, Marie Desjardin, Christine Jorgensen, Lee Karr, and Kay Bergstrom. I couldn’t write anything at all without the support of my family, especially Mike, Carol, and Andrew. There are dozens more people whose names aren’t listed herein and deserve mention; please forgive me and know that your names and many significant contributions are written in my heart.