By Tamar Myers
A pretend Van Gogh
When North Carolina old broker Abigail Timberlake makes a bid of $150.99 on a really lousy reproduction of Van Gogh's The Starry Night, she's simply attempting to win Mama's approval by way of aiding the church public sale. expectantly, she'll make her a reimbursement at the attractive gold vintage body. Little does she anticipate she's got herself a fortune...and loads of trouble.
A masterpiece to kill for
When her ex-boyfriend exhibits up and gives ten greenbacks for the gruesome Starry Night, Abby pops the body and is shocked to find hidden in the back of the pretend Van Gogh canvas a multi-million greenback misplaced paintings treasure. unexpectedly she's a well-liked woman in her outdated place of origin, and her first stopover at is from Gilbert Sweeney, her schoolyard sweetheart (according to him), who claims the family's portray was once donated by way of mistake. yet social calls fast flip from great to nasty as it is published that the mysterious masterpiece conceals a gloomy and lethal earlier and a few modern day misconduct that threatens to rock the Rock Hill social constitution to its middle. a person it sounds as if thinks the paintings is worthy killing for, and Abby is familiar with she larger unravel the key scandal and a number of murders ahead of she finally ends up buried six toes below a starry night.
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Extra info for Estate of Mind: A Den of Antiquity Mystery
Then my cousin Arvin is a genius,” C. J. snapped. The woman hardly ever gets irritable, so this was a bad sign. Although Rob smiled, the look of condescension on his face would have made a Parisian proud. ” C. J. has a lot of moxie for a twenty-four-year-old. ” “Another genius,” I chirped. C. J. treated us to pitying looks. ” It was a good thing I was seated, because I reeled with shock. “There isn’t a snobby bone in my body, C. ” “Actually, there is,” Rob said quietly. ” I reeled again. “Face it, Abby.
At least they are there. ” Wynnell gasped. “Don’t tell me velvet painting is back in style. I knew it! ” Believe it or not, Wynnell is also an antique dealer. But our tastes, as you can see, are light-years apart. ” Wynnell moaned. “Not those children with the big eyes? I had a chance to buy some at an estate sale Monday, but I passed. ” “I do not like them! Wynnell, I can’t discuss this on the phone, but trust me, you won’t regret it. ” Wynnell muttered something to her husband, who grumbled some more.
Just to drool. The Rob-Bobs have decorated their oversize condominium with the finest from The Finer Things. Their Louis XIV furniture bears the teeth marks of Louis XV. “Please, sit down,” Rob said, ever the southern gentleman. I selected a chair that I knew bore no impressions of royal baby teeth. This Louis XIV, upholstered in floral Genoese velvet, had a solid silver frame. It was my favorite piece in the Rob-Bob’s collection but, alas, far too heavy to ever steal. C. J. settled into a companion chair that, although it looked the same, had a frame constructed of gilt over carved wood.