Jeopardy in High Heels (High Heels #12) - Gemma Halliday Page 0,95
husband, three sons, and assorted cats and dogs. She has wanted to be a writer since the age of eight when she wrote her own version of Cinderella (fortunately Disney never sued). Catherine holds a B.A. in English and is a member of Mystery Writers of America and Sisters in Crime.
Catherine is the author of the Cookies & Chance Mysteries, the Cindy York Mysteries, a contributor to the Aloha Lagoon Mysteries, and the Italian Chef Mysteries.
Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Disappearing Diva
Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Wealthy Widow
Tahoe Tessie Mysteries:
Luck Be A Lady
Hey Big Spender
Baby It's Cold Outside (short story)
Anna Smith & Nick Dade Thrillers:
Play Dead
Young Adult Books:
Deadly Cool
Social Suicide
Wicked Games
Other Works:
Viva Las Vegas
A High Heels Haunting (novella)
Watching You (short story)
Confessions of a Bombshell Bandit (short story)
The Missing Laughing Leprechaun (short story in the Pushing Up Daisies collection)
* * * * *
SNEAK PEEK
of the first
Wine & Dine Mystery
A SIP BEFORE DYING
by
GEMMA HALLIDAY
CHAPTER ONE
My best friend was waiting for me outside Silver Girl, her jewelry boutique in downtown Sonoma, when I pulled up in my Jeep. Ava Barnett: blonde, bubbly, and as perpetually optimistic as a woman who worked the tourist trade could be. She was dressed today in a flowy floral dress that just skirted her perfectly tanned ankles above boho-style sandals and pink painted toenails. We were both about a size eight, though Ava was on the lithe, athletic side of eight, and I was on the generous, enjoys-her-chocolate side of eight. She floated into my passenger seat on a cloud of peachy lotion and patchouli incense, and I instantly felt my spirits lift as I tried to downplay how rotten that Friday had turned out for me.
"How's things?" she asked, chucking her overnight bag into the back seat of the Wrangler.
I shrugged, tucking some of my flyaways back into my ponytail. While Ava's hair shone, humidity or cloudless sky, my own blonde locks were a fickle bunch. I had my good days, but depending on the weather, they could kink up like Shirley Temple or frizz like Bozo the Clown. Today they were somewhere at a half-Bozo, hence the ponytail to rein them in. "Things are fine," I answered, determined to put on a happy face.
She grinned at me, showing off a row of white teeth with an endearingly chic gap between the front two. "Liar."
I couldn't help the corners of my mouth turning up as well. Joined at the hip since high school, we were more like sisters than best friends. Ava knew me well enough to see through any attempt at downplay.
"Okay, honestly? Things kinda sucked today," I told her.
"Really?" Her big brown eyes turned sympathetic.
I nodded. "Like a Hoover."
"Is it your mom?" she asked.
I bit my lip, feeling a whole new wave of suckatude wash over me at the mention of my mother. But I shut off that emotional faucet before it could completely ruin our planned girls' night. I shook my head. "No, today it was Gene. He was pulling his seesaw act again."
Ava had already heard on multiple occasions how Gene Schulz, my financial consultant, played seesaw with his left and right hands, swinging them up and down alternately as he pictured my winery's financial health. The left hand represented debt, and it always ended up at the highest point when the seesaw gesture stopped. Today's game had ended with the right hand falling even lower than in the past. That was the hand that represented assets—in other words, Oak Valley Vineyard and everything I held dear in this world. All I had inherited after my father passed and Mom's beautiful personality had begun to disintegrate.
The assets in question amounted to just over ten acres of vines and a majestic oak-lined driveway