Was It Murder? (The Murder Blog Mysteries Book 4) by Pamela Frost Dennis

Author:Pamela Frost Dennis [Frost Dennis, Pamela]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-06T04:00:00+00:00

I was still fuming when we stepped through the double doors but was instantly distracted by an anorexic platinum blonde, who pounced on us like a hyena on fresh road kill.

“Hello, I’m Holly. I have some amazing homes that I know you’re going to love.”

Before we could answer, she rushed us around a pack of caffeine-deficient realtors huddled around a Keurig coffeemaker watching it dribble out one cup at a time, and seated us at her desk.

While Ruby explained the reason for our visit, I marveled at Holly’s leathery brown tan, wondering what she’d look like in ten or twenty years. When my grandmother finished her story, the estate agent’s initial killer enthusiasm sank to a tepid temperature.

Holly shook her head with a pouty expression. “Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do while you’re under contract with another agency. My advice is, go home and read your contract. Normally, there’s a notice period anywhere from fourteen days to twelve weeks.”

“Twelve weeks? Are you kidding me? I’m too damned old to wait that long,” said Ruby. “I could be dead by then.”

“No. It’s quite common. An agent puts a lot of hard work, time, and money into finding buyers for your property. Let me take a quick look at your listing.” Holly pursed her puffy orange lips as she tapped her long snowy white acrylics on her keyboard. “Here it is.” She swung the monitor around for Ruby to see an exterior photo taken from across the street. “Is this your cottage?”

“Yes, that’s it.”

“Here are the interior shots.”

The poorly lit photos made the cottage look dismal and depressing.

“No garage or parking area, and the kitchen is very, um…compact, which is typical of these old homes.” Holly shook her head with a gloomy expression. “You know, nowadays everyone wants big kitchens with no walls so they can watch their kids every second of the day.”

“We can’t tear down the walls in a four-hundred-year-old cottage or add more windows, you know,” I said.

“True.” She shrugged her scrawny shoulders.

“You might be best off taking the cash offer.”

Her greedy-beady eyes shifted to the entrance. A young pregnant couple had entered, and Holly stood, beckoning them to her desk before any other agent had a chance. “I’ll be right with you,” she yelled. And then to us she hurriedly said, “I don’t want to keep you. If you decide not to take the offer, I’d love to represent you. When your contract expires, that is.” She smiled. “Mustn’t get ahead of myself.”

We stood and her attention immediately transferred to the fresh prey lurking behind us.

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