Download Death of a Rug Lord (Avon Mystery) by Tamar Myers PDF

By Tamar Myers

Enterprise is not booming for antiques broker Abigail Timberlake Washburn. a neighborhood rug shop is luring away her consumers with its rock-bottom costs. desirous to try out the contest, Abby is extremely joyful to discover a worthy Persian amid the cut-rate carpets—and surprised whilst Gwendolyn Spears, the store's beleaguered proprietor, begs her to take it domestic! Abby feels greater than a bit in charge approximately getting any such good deal . . . particularly whilst Gwendolyn is located lifeless the following morning. Investigating the brutal homicide, Abby quickly discovers that the prized Orientals of Charleston's society dames are not anything greater than reasonable fakes . . . and harmful thief will do something to tug the rug out from less than her.

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I’ll give you one minute in the powder room. ” I grabbed both her hands, and pushing past Rob, half dragged her into my downstairs hall bath. I was able to slam the door behind me with a dyed-to-match emerald green pump. ” “Then why are you acting so giddy? Giggling all the time? ” “Abby, don’t be rude. His name is Big Larry. We met three weeks ago, if you must know, at the Shepherd’s Center. ” “You know. ” “Have you ever seen it done? Big Larry brought in this shrub he’d bought at Home Depot and set it on a table.

Neither of us, however, talked like we had a mouth full of marbles. “It is pretty bad,” Rob agreed. ” “He didn’t—not to me. I never gave him a chance. ” 30 D E AT H O F A R U G L O R D “Thank you. Is Bob hurt because I invited you to fill in for Greg, instead of him? ” “A mercy date? ” “But you can’t breathe a word of this. ” “Believe me, Abby, we would’ve known. ” We walked in silence, enjoying an evening fit for the gods. If there is a place on earth more beautiful than Charleston in early April, then the person who has seen it is very lucky, for he, or she, has survived a neardeath experience.

She wears only dresses with cinched waists and full skirts; her feet are always clad in pumps, even at home; and she feels utterly naked without a string of pearls around her still slender neck. But although she’s as odd as a three dollar bill, she’s not senile. Not by any means. ” “In a minute, Mama. ” She sounded too ebullient for it to be bad news, so I obediently walked over to the nearest chair, which just happened to be a Louis XIV—a real Louis XIV, by the way, one that had remarkably never been recovered.

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