By Sarah Graves
Again within the day, Jacobia “Jake” Tiptree became earnings handling the fortunes of Manhattan’s so much lucky. Then she fled the rat race for a stately previous fixer-upper in easygoing Eastport, Maine. yet now a rat from a fair darker nook of Jake’s prior has grew to become up…a killer with a blueprint for demolishing her new life.As a house fix fanatic, Jake is aware that not anything lasts forever—not home windows or doorways, now not plaster or plumbing. and never strong fortune.After greater than 3 a long time eluding justice, the guy who murdered her mom is eventually approximately to face trial—until he vanishes into skinny air. Jake has a negative foreboding of the place Ozzie Campbell will happen subsequent. And whereas the neighborhood police leader is certain she’s overreacting, actually a long way worse than even Jake’s worst fears.With her commonly complete residence empty for a minimum of one other week, Jake has been expecting the unaccustomed peace and quiet. Now her comfortable, well-loved domestic feels extra like an incredible empty dying capture able to snap close. First a couple of out-of-towners in actual fact no longer in Eastport for holiday occur asking questions on her. And if she has any doubt they’re hooked up to Campbell, these doubts are erased whilst he calls her with a grim caution. yet precisely what Campbell desires from her isn’t transparent, basically that he’ll cease at not anything to harm these closest to Jake. And his first sufferers are the main defenseless of all. all of sudden Jake can’t support yet consider that her house—and her life—has a ways too many home windows. And in anyone of them she could see the face of her killer.
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Additional info for A Face at the Window (Home Repair Is Homicide Mysteries)
Now, if both feet were broken," he began, wrapping an arm around Bella's skinny, silk-clad waist. Slipping away from him, Bella ran for the door, her voice as usual the squawk of a rough stick scratched over a violin. "Come on, you old fool, or we'll be left on the dock the way I nearly left you at the altar. " But it was in their faces, their happy triumph at having found one another; her dad's, especially. The ruby stud glinted in his earlobe as, taking Bella's hand, he hobbled out. Which left only Wade.
No power poles, he noticed. Probably no lions, either. But he still wished there were fences. "This better be right," Marky growled threateningly, spewing out a stream of smoke while casting another evil look at Anthony. " Anthony was pretty sure he was already in trouble. Coming up here with Marky had been a bad idea, and not only because of the gun. The money was good, though. He decided his best course now would be to concentrate on the money. He rolled his window down to let some of Marky's smoke out and got an unexpected faceful of ocean smell, cold salt water and what he guessed must be seaweed mingled with a hint of wood smoke.
Having your mother killed and believing that your father had done it was the next best thing to being an orphan. Or next worst. Her own experiences with parentlessness had made Oliver Twist look like Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm. But that was all over and done with long ago, she reminded herself as, sighing, she peered into the hole. It was wet. Muddy, even. "Oh, hell," she pronounced. Straightening, she wiped her hands on her jeans and turned. "Bob, the guy murdered my mother. Strangled her, set a fire, blew up half a city block, and basically framed my father for it all.