Authors: Stephanie Queen
Tags: #romantic mystery, #romantic suspense, #mysteries and humor, #romantic comedy
The Throwbacks
The ThrowbacksBook 1:
The Scotland Yard Exchange Series
By Stephanie Queen
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2011 by Stephanie Giancola
Smashwords Edition
Between a Rock and a Mad Woman
“Absolutely delightful”
—
RomanticLoveBooks.com
“I was riveted! The twists, turns, surprises & the love story that resulted were outstanding and I can’t wait to read more…”
—
HesperiaLovesBooks.com
The Throwbacks
“Resplendent in rich detail, laugh-out-loud moments, a fast-paced plot and spellbinding characters, The Throwbacks is a stellar not-to-be-missed standout!”
—
Romantic Times Book Review
“A lovely blend of romance and mystery with a good dose of humor!”
Table of Contents—
LovesReading.com
Praise for Stephanie Queen Books
G
RACE tiptoed along the brick path, trying not to get her party heels stuck in the cracks. She heard the cab pull away from the curb and looked back. Sophia bounced behind her, wearing sensible party boots.
“Do you realize you gave that taxi driver twenty dollars for a two-dollar fare?” her friend said.
“Oh—just like in the song.” Grace smiled and climbed the steps leading to Mabel’s back door. Then she stopped. She felt Sophia stop right behind her.
“What?” Sophia prompted.
“You know. The Harry Chapin song where…”
“Quit stalling, Grace. This is not a surprise birthday party. Open the door.”
“Are we sure about that? Today is my birthday.” Or at least she’d always celebrated her birthday on October fifteenth as a close approximation. No one had ever come up with a more likely date.
“No kidding? Not your thirtieth birthday is it?” Sophia stood on the step below her, making her even shorter than she already was. She looked like an updated version of Lucille Ball with an attitude and a bob. That thought made Grace smile.
“Wait until you turn thirty and see. You’ll have palpitations too.” Grace turned and pushed through the door into the back hall of Mabel’s Beacon Hill townhouse, willing away that intruder sensation she always got. Mabel was as good as family, she almost said out loud. Like the eccentric old aunt she used to dream up for herself back when she used to dream about it.
As they stepped into the old woman’s kitchen, the powerful aroma of food and familiarity warmed her. Even the clatter of the no-doubt expensive caterers didn’t spoil the homey effect.
“Mabel went all out for this bash. Any idea why she would be hosting this Scotland Yard party?” Sophia asked as she followed her through the kitchen.
“I don’t know. It’s a very big deal to her, though. My attendance was a command performance. I only wish I had a date.” She looked down at her friend. “No offense.”
Grace began to give herself the usual pep talk for going into a party dateless, the one about her soul mate being around the next corner, when her purse rang. Somewhere deep inside her bag her ringing phone hid. Weaving around the catering staff, she crossed the black-and-white tiled kitchen to the swinging doors as she dug inside the bag to find the phone.
“Buck up,” Sophia said. “After all, thirty is the new twenty, right? It’s not like you’re a spinster.”
The ringing grew louder as she pulled the phone from its depths. Mabel’s Scotland Yard party waited on the other side of the door in front of them. Pushing through the door into the room that Mabel called the “grand salon,” she stabbed the call button and spoke into the phone. Using what she hoped was a discreet voice, she said, “Hello.”
“Grace! I’m so glad I got you.” Her friend Theresa Torini’s voice boomed from the other end of the line so that anyone might hear everything.
“There’s been a murder!”
“What? You didn’t say murder, did you?” Grace said. Then she clapped a hand over her mouth and darted her eyes around to see if anyone was paying attention. A few curious glances were thrown her way. Still holding the phone to her ear, not one more word volunteered its way to her mouth.
“Yes! A murder! And you have to help.” Theresa shrieked loud enough for Sophia to hear.
Sophia’s mouth opened to speak, but Grace shook her head furiously. Sophia clamped her mouth shut and clamped a hand on Grace’s arm, her eyes perplexed.
Grace frowned. Murder? Her help? What the heck was she talking about? But even if Theresa was crazy or confused, her hysteria sounded real.
“Take a deep breath, honey. Aren’t you at your wedding rehearsal dinner?” Grace asked.
“Yes!”
Grace moved the phone a distance from her head to lessen the effect of her friend’s shocking volume. She moved away from people as best she could with the crowd already in full swing, pulling Sophia—who was still clamped to her arm—with her.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you—Rick’s brother—oh poor Rick—his brother who was supposed to be our best man—has been shot. Murdered! Right here.”
“Oh no! I can’t believe it.” Grace stopped, truly taken aback. She watched Sophia’s face turn from confused to incredulous. Grace looked around. A few people stared, and some raised eyebrows. She put on a reassuring smile.
Sophia stuck to her arm, listening in. “Is she serious?”
Grace wasn’t sure. She shook her head.
“When did this all happen?” Grace asked.
“Just now. That’s why I’m calling you.”
“What do you want me to do? I’ll do whatever you need. Are the police there?” Grace asked. It occurred to her that this was a bad time for a murder across town. All the police were at this party.
“No. We have to keep it a secret.”
“Honey, I hate to tell you this, but you’re making no sense whatsoever, and normally I’m right on the same page with you but…”
“We can’t call the police! We don’t want the reporters to know. The mayor—Dad—insists we keep it hush-hush. No media. So I’m calling you…”
“I’m flattered but…” Grace had no idea what to say. Her friend was hysterical. Worse, the mayor was insane.
“So you can tell the police—but discreetly,” Theresa said and it finally made sense.
“Oh…I get it. Because I’m here at the police party.”
“Yes! But you have to find Dan O’Keefe, the chief, and tell him it’s top secret.”
“I don’t know who he is, honey. Why don’t you call him directly?”
“Don’t you think they’ve been trying that? They can’t get through on his personal cell phone and they don’t want to call his official line because then everyone will know.”
