Murder Under a Full Moon

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Murder Under a Full Moon Page 1

by Abigail Keam




  Mona Moon goes to Washington, D.C. to have lunch at the White House with Eleanor Roosevelt, First Lady of the United States. While in Washington, Mona wants to take in the sights, but her visit is marred by the violent death of two men who were trying to procure copper contracts with Moon Enterprises.

  Mona is then approached by American agents to spy for the government. Mona wants no part of that as “gentlewomen do not read other’s mail.” Mona soon realizes that she and Moon Enterprises are thrust upon the world stage of countries vying for power whether she likes it or not.

  All Mona wants to do is run Moon Enterprises and marry Lord Farley, but events make that impossible. Mona must make a choice. Does she fulfill her duty to her country and forget Lord Farley? Or does she forge ahead and place her country in jeopardy by selling copper to whoever wants it? It looks like 1934 is going to be a challenging year for Mona.

  Murder Under A Full Moon

  A Mona Moon Mystery

  Book Seven

  Abigail Keam

  Worker Bee Press

  Copyright © 2021 Abigail Keam

  Kobo Edition

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author.

  The history is documented.

  The Moon family, Moon Manor, and the Moon associates,

  family, and friends are fabrications of my imagination.

  So is Lord Farley—’tis a shame though.

  Special thanks to Melanie Murphy and Liz Hobson.

  ISBN 978 1 95347 8 04 7

  6121

  Published in the USA by

  Worker Bee Press

  P.O. Box 485

  Nicholasville, KY 40340

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  Table of Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Join My HoneyBee Club!

  Books By Abigail Keam

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Glossary

  About The Author

  Books By Abigail Keam

  Josiah Reynolds Mysteries

  Death By A HoneyBee I

  Death By Drowning II

  Death By Bridle III

  Death By Bourbon IV

  Death By Lotto V

  Death By Chocolate VI

  Death By Haunting VII

  Death By Derby VIII

  Death By Design IX

  Death By Malice X

  Death By Drama XI

  Death By Stalking XII

  Death By Deceit XIII

  Death By Magic XIV

  Death By Shock XV

  The Mona Moon Mystery Series

  Murder Under A Blue Moon I

  Murder Under A Blood Moon II

  Murder Under A Bad Moon III

  Murder Under A Silver Moon IV

  Murder Under A Wolf Moon V

  Murder Under A Black Moon VI

  Murder Under A Full Moon VII

  Murder Under A Crescent Moon VIII

  Last Chance For Love Romance Series

  Last Chance Motel I

  Gasping For Air II

  The Siren’s Call III

  Hard Landing IV

  The Mermaid’s Carol V

  1

  A white gloved butler opened the door of Mona’s silver Rolls Royce and offered his hand to help her and Violet out of the car.

  Mona handed him their engraved invitation cards. “I am Miss Mona Moon and my companion is Miss Violet Tate. I believe the First Lady is expecting us for lunch.”

  “Yes, Miss Moon.” He then looked at Violet and greeted her. “Miss.”

  Violet nervously nodded back while clutching her stomach, which felt like a thousand butterflies were taking flight.

  Taking note of Violet’s apprehension, the butler gave a ghost of a smile before smothering it. “Come this way, please.”

  A Marine sentry opened the door to the White House as Mona and Violet followed the butler into the main hall and stopped before a podium with a registration book. “Please sign in with your name, official title, and town. Mrs. Roosevelt likes to keep a record of all her visitors.”

  “Of course,” Mona replied, bending over to sign the book. She wrote Miss Mona

  Moon, Moon Enterprises Owner, Lexington, Kentucky in longhand. When finished, she handed the fountain pen to Violet.

  “Me?”

  “You’re a guest of Mrs. Roosevelt’s, aren’t you, Violet?”

  “I thought I would be having lunch with the maids in the kitchen.”

  The butler shook his head. “No, Miss. You both are to dine with the First Lady.”

  “Oh, dear,” Violet said, looking wide-eyed at Mona.

  “Just sign. I’ll be right next to you throughout the entire luncheon,” Mona said.

  Violet signed the book, taking care with her letters and writing in cursive. When finished, she handed the fountain pen to the butler.

  He replaced the cap and laid it back on the pedestal. “Follow me, please.”

  They wandered through several corridors and up one flight in the elevator, whereupon they were shown into a small receiving room.

  The butler said, “Mrs. Roosevelt and Mrs. Longworth will join you shortly.”

  “I see.”

  “May I pour you a sherry or any beverage of your choice?”

  Mona replied, “No, thank you. We’re fine.”

  “Very good then. Just push the button next to the door if you require anything.”

  “Thank you,” Violet said absent-mindedly, taking in the room.

  Again, the butler shot Violet a small smile before quietly shutting the door to the room.

  “I can’t believe we are in the White House!” Violet exclaimed. “And I’m about to meet one of the most famous women in the world.”

  “Violet, please calm down. I’m nervous, too. I just hope I don’t spill anything and embarrass us,” Mona said, biting her lip.

  “Nervous, Miss Mona?” Violet said, wide-eyed. “Somehow that makes me feel better.” She paused, glancing about. “Wouldn’t Mr. Thomas love to talk with the staff here? Look at all this lovely furniture and the flower arrangements. So perfect. So regal.”

  “I’ve seen nothing yet to throw shame on Mr. Thomas. He runs Moon Manor like a well-oiled machine.”

  “I didn’t mean to suggest he didn’t. I just meant that he would love to see how the staff runs things at the White House.”

  “Sorry, Violet. I’m a little edgy this morning.” Mona exhaled and sat down in one of the floral-pattern overstuffed chairs. “Violet. I hear voices.”

  Violet strained to listen.

  Behind the white pocket doors on the other end of the room, Mona and Violet heard raised voices. They both leaned toward the commotion.

  “Can you make out who it
is?” Mona asked.

  Violet tiptoed to the door and pressed her ear against the wood. “It’s Alice Longworth and Mrs. Roosevelt. I recognize Mrs. Roosevelt’s voice from the radio.”

  “Well?”

  “I can’t make out what they are saying, but it sounds rather heated.”

  The arguing stopped and silence prevailed.

  “Oh, dear,” Violet said, hopping away from the pocket doors as they were slid back.

  In the entrance stood the First Lady of the United States—Eleanor Roosevelt.

  Behind her peeked Alice Roosevelt Longworth wearing a velvet shift dyed her signature color of Alice blue. “Hey, Mona, I see that you brought Bucktooth Becky with you.”

  Violet’s eyes narrowed.

  The First Lady strode into the room and held out her hand to shake Mona’s. In a high-pitched, upper class British accent favored by the East Coast aristocracy, she said, “Hello, my dear, I’m Eleanor Roosevelt. I’m so happy to meet you. Alice has told me of the progressive programs you have established for your workers. I should like to discuss them.”

  “It would be my honor, ma’am.”

  “And who is this lovely ingénue?”

  “This is my traveling companion, Violet Tate.”

  Violet struggled to say something, but only a croak escaped her lips. In her dismay, Violet curtsied.

  Alice said, “Violet is Mona’s maid.”

  Mona shot Alice a warning look. “Don’t start.”

  Eleanor observed Alice’s fallen face. “Ah ha, I see what Alice has been saying about you is true. A pistol. A real firecracker. Not many people would confront Alice so boldly. She is a formidable woman and my most ardent critic, even if she is my first cousin.” Eleanor extended her hand to Violet. “Welcome to the White House, my dear.”

  Violet squeaked, “Thank you very much, ma’am.”

  The First Lady smiled. “Save the curtsies for the British. They love it.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Violet said, sheepishly.

  “Shall we?” Eleanor beckoned to the room behind them. A table was set for four. “I dislike eating in the main dining room, preferring a more intimate setting. Besides, the dining room staff likes to eavesdrop on my conversations and report to my husband. This way we will have more privacy.”

  Not knowing if Eleanor was teasing or not, Mona nodded and said, “The table looks lovely.”

  “Please sit,” Eleanor encouraged.

  All four women sat at the round dining table.

  Mona and Violet waited for the First Lady to take a sip of water before they placed their laced napkins in their laps.

  Eleanor rang a small table bell.

  “This is beautiful china,” Mona remarked, admiring a plate with a dark cobalt border framed by gilded stars on the shoulder. She traced the presidential coat of arms raised in 24-carat gold in the center.

  “Mrs. Wilson commissioned this pattern from Lenox of Trenton, New Jersey. Over a thousand pieces were made at the cost of eleven thousand dollars.”

  Mona remarked, “A fortune, indeed.”

  “That’s ten dollars a plate,” Violet said, staring at her plate and now afraid to touch it.

  “Yes, indeed. It’s because of all the gold used on the china.”

  “Golly,” Violet mumbled, hardly believing she was having lunch off gold plates with three of the most famous women in the United States. She was far from the rolling hills of the Bluegrass now.

  Eleanor said, “Unfortunately, many serving pieces are missing now and most of the remaining cups and plates are chipped. Sooner or later, I am going to have to order a new set of china, but I hate to do so during this Depression. I feel it’s a frivolous matter, but my husband said we must keep up appearances. After all, Lincoln kept building the Capitol during the Civil War.”

  “Why don’t you use my father’s presidential china? It’s very pretty,” Alice said after telling the server she wanted a gin and tonic.

  “I’ll have some iced tea, please,” Mona addressed the male server before turning her attention back to the First Lady.

  Eleanor remarked, “We have the same issue with Uncle Theodore’s china. Chipped and missing plates and cups.”

  “That’s a shame,” Alice said. “My stepmother had excellent taste. I thought my father’s china was the best of the lot.”

  “Of course, you did, Alice,” Eleanor chided.

  Alice sniffed at Eleanor before sipping her gin and tonic.

  Bowls filled with cold jellied bouillon were placed before the ladies.

  Mona tried not to shudder at the cold soup and pretended to partake. “Mrs. Roosevelt, I must tell you how much I admire President Roosevelt’s economic policies and the work you do to improve the lives of women and working people. I know from first-hand experience how hard it is to be something other than a teacher or a nurse if a woman wants a career.”

  “Call me Eleanor, please.”

  “Mona for me as well.”

  “I understand you attended university, Mona. I went to Allenswood Academy where I had wonderful teachers, but I always wished I had furthered my education.”

  “I studied to become a cartographer.”

  “How was it finding work, especially during the Depression?”

  “I was often hired because my employer could underpay and overwork me. There was no law to protect me. And I had to carry a gun to protect my honor. You do what you have to do to survive. That’s why your work on behalf of women is so important.”

  Eleanor leaned back in her chair and fiddled with her napkin. “My dear, I appreciate the vote of confidence. One of my husband’s goals is to raise the standard of living for women, but you wouldn’t believe the criticism the President has had to endure, even from within his own family.” She shot a look at Alice. “Remember that it has only been fourteen years since women won the right to vote. Unfortunately, there are many in both parties who would like to see the 19th Amendment rolled back.”

  Mona said, “I think the key to get this country back on its feet is getting people back to work, but it’s hard to find reliable help if much of the work force is undernourished and illiterate. That’s why I have educational and nutritional programs for my employees. I followed Mr. Roosevelt’s New Deal philosophy in my own corporation and it has worked.”

  Alice leaned back in her chair and took out a cigarette from a silver case and tapped its end on the table. “I’m sorry, but I think all these handouts this administration is giving out will only weaken the country. A man should rise up on his own merit. That’s not even talking about the national debt Franklin’s programs are costing the American people. Who is going to pay for all these programs?”

  Not wishing to create discord by criticizing Alice, Mona thought, spoken by a woman who has always been wealthy and has never missed a meal in her life.

  Ignoring Alice, Eleanor said to Mona and Violet, “There’s so much work to be done. Right now, we are having enormous difficulties, helping farmers in the Midwest. These dust storms are tearing the land apart. No more topsoil. We are getting reports of people dying from what the doctors refer to as ‘dust pneumonia.’ People’s lungs fill up with dust, and they can’t breathe. It’s just dreadful. Franklin has been meeting with all sorts of agriculture experts seeking recommendations.”

  “Kentucky’s skies have been hazy for months,” Violet said, nodding to the server taking away her unconsumed soup.

  “Exactly,” Eleanor said. “The Dust Bowl problem is engulfing the country and making the economic crisis worse. That’s why I’m so interested in speaking with you, Mona. Tell me about your programs. Moon Enterprises is hiring more men, has had no strikes in the past eighteen months, and is making a profit.”

  “Like I was saying, Moon Enterprises is following the philosophy of the Roosevelt administration. When my uncle made me his heir, I discovered that Moon Enterprises had been mismanaged. We had a high accident rate and morale was very low. We upgraded much of our mining equipment, inst
ituted safety guidelines, and paid above other mining companies.”

  “Sounds expensive,” Alice remarked.

  “It is and we are still paying off loans for the upgrade. But as you say, ma’am, we are making a profit this year.”

  “Once the unions come in, there will be strife and violence. Mark my words,” Alice said, looking askance at the salmon salad and bread & butter sandwiches placed before her.

  “I understand the concern about unions, but I also see the need for them,” Mona said.

  Alice harrumped. “Unions are nothing more than fronts for communism to gain ground in our country.”

  Ignoring Alice, Mona continued. “As for Moon Manor, it was discovered that many of our employees could not read nor write, so we have literacy classes after work hours.”

  Violet offered, “I got my high school diploma in one of Miss Moon’s programs.”

  Eleanor asked, “Will you employ these ideas for your fiancé’s estate? I understand you and Lord Farley are to be married.”

  “Lord Farley is in New York right now arranging passage for us. We want his father to meet me before we officially announce our engagement. Let’s say we have an understanding.”

  “I don’t see an engagement ring,” Alice commented, glancing at Mona’s left hand.

  Mona said, “I have one, but I will not be wearing it until the engagement is officially announced.”

  Putting down the unlit cigarette and picking up a bread & butter sandwich, Alice said, “You’ll never get the old man’s approval, my dear, unless a dowry is produced. Your family is not high enough in the pecking order.”

  “I’ll be gobsmacked,” protested Violet, shocked at Alice’s insult.

  “Oh, I don’t mean to be unkind, dear,” Alice said. “But if Robert Farley’s father approves of this union, your life will change dramatically. You will be expected to plunk down a great deal of American money into the old man’s estate. The English are always desperate for American cash. The fact that you are rich is in your favor, at least.”

  “Oh, Alice, you are such gloom and doom,” Eleanor said.

 

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