By Heather Webber
Digging Her personal Grave Landscaper Nina Quinn makes her residing from shock backyard makeovers. it is not her fault that somebody duped her into digging up the incorrect backyard. and she or he definitely cannot be blamed while her handiwork turns the unsuspecting genuine proprietor apoplectic and he drops lifeless from a middle assault . . . can she? Nina's received adequate hassle already, along with her divorce from faithless hubby Kevin nearing of completion and her unruly stepson as much as his teenage neck in almost certainly unlawful mischief. Now she's at risk of wasting her company! yet there is something screwy approximately this quite handy "accidental" loss of life of a guy whom it appears nobody may possibly stand -- no longer even the "grieving" widow who is threatening to sue Nina's overalls off. to avoid wasting her livelihood -- and her pores and skin -- Nina's going to need to dig deeper into the airborne dirt and dust than she ever has prior to . . . and notice what kind of slimy mystery issues move slowly out.
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Additional info for Digging Up Trouble: A Nina Quinn Mystery (Nina Quinn Mysteries)
The paramedic asked, bless him. “Because I want to know why he died. My Russell was a healthy man. ” 48 Heather Webber “You know that’s not true, Greta,” a voice from behind me said. Lindsey. When had she shown up? Had she been hiding nearby all along? I glared at her, but she wouldn’t look at me, so I supposed it had little effect. ” Davis asked, stepping into the conversation. Lindsey clasped her hands together. ” Mrs. Grabinsky’s eyes narrowed. “You know he wasn’t, Greta. He was taking high blood pressure medication.
Well, Miz Quinn, it’s like this. ” Brickhouse and I asked at the same time. The older woman with sickly blonde hair stepped forward, smiled wide, her teeth as big and as yellow as the dingy locks on her head. I tried not to cringe. “Boom-Boom Vhrooman,” she said, holding out a hand. Reluctantly, I took it as she added, “I’m your new neighbor. I moved into Mrs. ” “Now Ursula,” Mr. Cabrera tried to soothe. “Ach,” she boomed. He shut up. Mrs. Warnicke had recently died of a heart attack after waking to ﬁnd a burglar in her house.
Which this wasn’t. This was a heart attack. ” “It’s not suspicious. ” Meredith piped in. “Because Russ Grabinsky was shocked by his backyard. ” I backed up a step so I wouldn’t kick her. “It wasn’t right over,” I argued. “He went inside and everything before he came back out—” “And keeled over,” Meredith said. ” Kevin asked. “Meredith Adams. ” Kevin pulled out his notebook. I didn’t know why. He never actually wrote anything down. He’d had that same notebook for four years. ” Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ginger Ho, er, Barlow coming up the slope along the side of the house.