Murder at Catmmando Mountain Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery #1 (Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery Series)
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“I am having this déjà vu experience. I don’t always know what will trigger it, but news about a murder on the beach has set it off, big time.” I stared at the new man in my life, trying to figure out why I couldn’t say more. Jack Wheeler’s the first man I’ve been this close to in years. No, make it decades. I’m not talking about a mere flirtation with the handsome homicide detective—a Jim Rockford lookalike. Not a fling, either. There had been other men since that horrendous incident in Corsario Cove changed my life forever. None of the men since had me thinking about marriage until Jack. The more I thought about making a serious commitment; the more all the old memories hounded me.
“I want to tell you what happened Jack. I should have done it already. It’s just...” Jack took a step forward and pulled me into his arms.
“Georgie, you’re trembling. Maybe I should go with you this weekend. I like your friend, Jennifer. She’s been on my side when it comes to getting you to take me—us, seriously.” I thought about his offer, wondering how it would feel to show up in Corsario Cove with a new man. I had grown up there. In San Albinus, actually, near the Cove on California’s central coast. Before I was twenty, I had gone off to college, not far away, at UC Santa Cruz. That’s where I met the love of my life. The Cove is where I lost him. I had already told Jack that much. I settled into his arms.
“Jennifer’s an incurable romantic. She fancies herself to be quite a matchmaker, too. A skill she claims she’s honed matching clients to their dream vacations if you can believe that! As far as she’s concerned, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Could be, she’s right. I liked the feeling of his arms around me. He smelled terrific, too…clean and fresh, like the outdoors. No discernible scent of anything artificial, like soap or cologne. Honest and direct, like the man. I leaned into him as the chill fled, replaced by the now familiar sensation I often experienced around Jack. Snap, crackle, pop—a series of tingly feelings, that were enticing, but hard to describe. He must have read my mind.
“Jennifer is right. I’m your man.” Jack tilted my head up and kissed me. Those sensations reached all the way down to the tips of my toes as I returned that kiss.
“I’ll call Jennifer and tell her we’re both going to be there for the weekend. She can get us a great deal on rooms at the Sanctuary Resort and Spa. It’s on me, though, since I know you didn’t have a weekend getaway figured into your budget.” Homicide detectives don't make much money. Jack’s not the kind of guy who throws money around. Still, the OC, as we refer to Orange County, is not a very affordable place to live—even in Irvine, away from the chichi Newport Coast where I live.
To be continued…summer, 2016
~~~~~
In the meantime, why not read one of the books in another mystery series I write.
The Jessica Huntington Desert Cities Mystery series is set in the desert near Palm Springs. The series features a rich, shopaholic thirty-something lawyer and amateur sleuth. Jessica Huntington who gets a wake-up call when her best friend’s husband turns up dead.
A DEAD HUSBAND http://smarturl.it/deadhus
A DEAD SISTER http://smarturl.it/deadsis
A DEAD DAUGHTER http://smartur.it/deaddau
A DEAD MOTHER due out late 2016
The prequel to the Jessica Huntington series is also available: Love a Foot Above the Ground http://smarturl.it/loveabove
The Corsario Cove Cozy Mystery Series featuring twenty-something newlyweds, Kim and Brien. Two characters from the Jessica Huntington series, the surfer dude pool boy turned security guard, Brien Williams, who teams up with the sarcastic, street-wise survivor, Kim Reed. Together they’re in for all sorts of hijinks that take place on California’s Central Coast. The swanky Sanctuary Resort and Spa at Corsario Cove is the perfect setting for holidays and special occasions except for the fact that a surprising number of mysteries unfold there…some new and some that reach into the distant past.
COWABUNGA CHRISTMAS! http://smarturl.it/cove1
GNARLY NEW YEAR, out 2016.
Georgie Shaw’s Favorite Recipes
Flourless Chocolate Cake*
Ingredients
1 pound semisweet chocolate, chopped
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter
1/4 cup coffee liqueur
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
7 large eggs, room temperature
1 cup sugar
Powdered sugar
Preparation
Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter 9-inch-diameter spring form pan with 2 3/4-inch-high sides. Line bottom of pan with parchment paper. Stir chocolate, butter, coffee liqueur, and vanilla in heavy large saucepan over low heat until melted and smooth. Cool to lukewarm.
Using electric mixer, beat eggs and 1 cup sugar in large bowl until thick and pale, and slowly dissolving ribbon forms when beaters are lifted, about 6 minutes. Fold 1/3 of egg mixture into lukewarm chocolate mixture. Fold remaining egg mixture into chocolate mixture.
Place prepared pan on baking sheet. Transfer batter to prepared pan. Bake until tester inserted into center comes out with moist crumbs attached, about 55 minutes. Cool 5 minutes. Gently press down edges of cake. Cool completely in pan. DO AHEAD Cake can be prepared up to 1 day ahead. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate. Let stand at room temperature 1 hour before continuing.
Run knife around pan sides to loosen cake. Remove sides of pan; transfer cake to platter. Remove parchment paper. Sprinkle cake with powdered sugar and serve. 12 Servings
*from Cafe Mundo San Jos Costa Rica
Prawn cocktail with Marie Rose sauce*
Ingredients
lemon juice, to taste
malt vinegar, to taste
20 x raw tiger prawns, shells on
1 Little Gem lettuce
1 sprig fresh thyme, leaves picked
cayenne pepper, to serve
For the sauce
½ lemon, juice only
1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
5 tbsp tomato ketchup
few drops Tabasco sauce
2 pinches smoked paprika
½ tsp paprika
1 tbsp double cream
4 tbsp mayonnaise
1 pinch cayenne pepper
pinch salt
1 tsp cracked black pepper
Preparation
Bring a large pan of water to the boil and add a squeeze of lemon and glug of vinegar. Add the whole prawns and cook until they rise to the surface. Drain and chill in ice-cold water.
Peel the cooled prawns, leaving one prawn whole per serving (for the garnish).
Cut the little Little Gem lettuce in half and place in ice-cold water to crisp it up.
For the sauce, mix all the sauce ingredients together.
To assemble the cocktails, drain the lettuce and pat dry with kitchen paper. Arrange two-thirds of the leaves in martini glasses or small bowls.
Shred the remaining leaves and add to a mixing bowl. Add the peeled prawns and spoonful of sauce. Top with the unpeeled prawn and a sprinkling of cayenne pepper. 4 Servings
*from Master Chef John Torode featured on BBC website
Mushroom Crusted Chilean Sea Bass*
Ingredients
7 oz fillet of Chilean sea bass
6 oz dried porcini mushrooms
8 oz white mushroom — rinsed and sliced
8 oz portobello mushroom — sliced
3 cloves garlic
2 tbsp softened butter
2 oz fresh basil leaves chopped
1 cup white unseasoned panko crumbs
salt and pepper to taste
Directions
Soak dried porcini mushrooms in enough hot water to just cover when submerged — ‘til softened. Place soaked mushrooms with its liquid, white mushrooms, and portobello mushrooms in a pot and bring to a boil.
Lower flame to a simmer, add butter, a tsp of salt & pepper — stir to incorporate butter and liquids with salt and pepper. Cook for about 30 minutes on a low flame —
watch to make sure the liquids do not evaporate all the way, add water if necessary.
Remove from stove top, let cool to room temperature. Remove excess liquid and set aside. Place mushroom mixture in a food processor and blend till smooth, adding the liquid set aside as needed to keep it a smooth texture.
Now add the freshly chopped basil and continue to process. Once all ingredients are blended well, add unseasoned panko crumbs — this will firm up the crust. Season with sea salt and freshly ground pepper. Heat a cast iron skillet with 1 tsp olive oil and sear the fish on both sides for about 2 to 3 minutes. Remove from stove top and coat top of fish with the mushroom mixture about 1/4 inch. Place in preheated 400º oven for 10 minutes until fish flakes.
Fry thinly sliced leeks and place on top of crust. 1 serving
*from Albert A Bijou, Executive Chef at The Coffee Bar, a much-heralded Kosher restaurant in Lawrence, New York
Wondering what to read next?
Looking for mysteries featuring an unconventional sleuth? Meet Jessica Huntington in the Desert Cities Mystery Series. Rich, beautiful, and betrayed, this poor little rich girl is sulking over a lousy unfaithful husband when her best friend’s husband turns up dead. Jessica soon learns that money can’t buy you happiness or save your neck. Who killed Roger Stone? Read A DEAD HUSBAND http://smarturl.it/deadhus to find out. Here’s chapter 1 to get you started…
A Dead Husband: CHAPTER 1
Jessica bolted upright in bed. Not a good thing to do. The light of day pierced like a knife. Her world spun. Her head throbbed, and a wave of nausea flowed through her. The force of her body’s revolt knocked her back onto the pillow. She closed her eyes to shut out the light and waited for the spinning sensation to subside. From somewhere in the depths of stupor she heard the sound that had startled her awake: a loud snort. She struggled to make sense of the fear and confusion while remaining motionless to avoid another assault to her senses. Where the hell was she? Risking a peek, she glimpsed up and recognized the vaulted ceiling and dramatic angles of the room in which she had grown up.
For a moment she felt comforted because she was, at least, in her own bed. The plush bed cradled her body, lulling her back toward oblivion. Then it all came rushing in on her, crushing her chest with an anvil of rage and regret.
My own bed all right, she thought. In her mother’s house that is, not her adult, married-woman bed now occupied by her feckless, soon-to-be ex-husband, and the blond. Jessica’s breathing quickened; her heart fluttered, and then palpitated wildly. Her heart now beat out a vicious dirge to match the pounding in her head.
“Oh no,” she muttered, as she spiraled toward a full blown panic attack. She rolled over and scooted toward the edge of the bed, hoping to dig out the paper bag she kept in the bedside table. She needed to breathe. To regain control of her mind and body that had betrayed her so often.
As Jessica reached into the drawer, she heard it again. A snorting sound, but this time much louder. Without thinking she jumped out of bed and stumbled, almost head first, into a luxurious upholstered club chair in the tasteful neutral tones of the Kreiss furnishings her mother adored. The room spun again as Jessica’s knees hit the floor. Her upper body landed on something hard in the chair. She pulled out an empty bottle, Cristal champagne, vintage 2004. A decent year, at least, she thought.
A party, there had been a party. She set the bottle on the floor and pulled herself up into the comfort of the bedside chair. Holding her head in both hands she scanned the floor around her feet and spotted two more empty Cristal bottles. That helped explain her current state. Discarded take-out food containers and candy bar wrappers were strewn about as were articles of clothing.
The slinky little Dolce & Gabbana dress she had worn last night lay in a twisted heap on the floor not wearable ever again. A couple grand down the drain. It must have come off in a hurry. One red Alexa pump peeped out from beneath the bed, silk stockings nearby, and a pair of men’s jeans. Jessica’s scanning came to a dead stop. She raised her eyes to gaze on higher ground.
A scantily-clad man lay sprawled on the far side of her super-sized bed, face down. Something about him was familiar, but in her addled condition she could not make out who he was. Nor could she remember how he, or she, got there. Looking down as quickly as she dared, she noted she was still wearing her Spanx. Jessica let out a little sigh of relief. Things couldn’t have gone too far with the guy in her bed since she was still wearing her Spanx. She struggled to get into the body shaper stone cold sober. If she had done her share polishing off the contents of the bottles in her room she would have needed help.
The guy on the bed looked like he could have given her that help. Unless he drank as much Cristal as she had. Jessica squelched a bout of shame as she lingered on his well-muscled body, clad in nothing but a pair of boxers. It felt voyeuristic. Not to mention, that even if her life depended on it, she couldn’t say who he was. Besides, she was still a married woman. She hadn’t signed the divorce papers yet.
Why isn’t he moving? Jessica wondered. From where she sat, it didn’t even look like he was breathing. It must have been his snorting that brought her back so abruptly from the edge of insensibility. But he was dead to the world now, not a sound or a twitch in any of the bronzed body parts she could see.
Lifting herself from the chair, Jessica leaned over to get a better look at his face. A shock of peroxided blond hair covered much of it. Jessica hiked one knee up onto the bed. Edging closer she reached out to move the hair so she could see his face. She had hardly touched him when he grabbed her hand and smiled at her. Jessica let out a loud whoop and struggled to break free.
“Whoa,” he said, still dull with sleep.
“Let go!” Jessica barked, pulling away from him. Startled, he let go of her hand and the momentum propelled her back off the bed. As her feet hit the floor she continued moving backwards. She tripped over the discarded Cristal bottle, and landed flat on her butt on the floor, with a loud “ouch!”
Her shrieks evoked an even louder male response. Not from the buff, blond man-boy in her bed who couldn’t have been more than 23 or 24—25 tops. The sound came from the floor on the other side of the bed. Another male head popped up and Jessica could not stop another yelp. Her heart started to rev up again.
“What the hell, Jessica?” her friend Tommy said. “I’m going to take a Technicolor yawn all over this fine Italian duvet you scored at Between the Sheets last week if you don’t stop screaming. I don’t want to ruin it,” he said caressing the silky cinnamon-colored duvet as though it were alive and needed soothing. He rested his head on the edge of the bed then looked up.
“You will have wasted all that revenge shopping, the time, the energy, the focus. You only have so many divorce tantrums in you, you know?”
Jessica blinked several times. Her eyes moved from the disgruntled Tommy, still only partly visible from his perch on the floor, to the sandy haired Adonis. Smiling, he was now propped up in her bed. His arms were folded across a well-developed chest, washboard abs exposed above the waistband of his boxer shorts.
Not my usual type, she mused to herself, if I have a type. Her eyes lingered a moment longer focusing more on his face, then widened in horror and recognition.
“Ppppool boy!” she gasped loudly. Remembering how little she had on, a new wave of embarrassment worked its way through her body from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Without warning, the bedroom door flew open. All three of them wailed and shrank away from the door.
“Dios mìo, Jessica, que te pasa? Are you okay? Esta bien?” Bernadette asked with a mix of fear and reproach in her voice and on her face. Reproach won out as she took in the scene.
The woman who stood in the doorway was not five feet tall. Her short-cropped black hair had begun to grey and her face to wear beyond her 60-something years. Jessica knew, without a doubt, she had contributed to that wear and tear.
Bernadette, whom Jessica sometimes referred to as St. Bernadette when she thoug
ht she could get away with it, had been hired as the family’s housekeeper before Jessica’s birth. She had become much more than that over the years. A confidant when Jessica was at odds with her parents and her most formidable opponent in her teen years. Bernadette possessed an eerie sixth sense for when Jessica was up to no good and had caught her many times doing something she shouldn’t have been doing.
Bernadette stayed on as manager of the Rancho Mirage estate even after Jessica and her family moved out, one by one. First, Jessica’s father, who, by the time she was 8 or 9 spent less time in the desert and more in L.A. near his real estate development firm headquartered there. When Jessica was in 7th grade, he divorced her mother and moved to their Brentwood house full-time. Then Jessica went off to college at UC Irvine, on to law school at Stanford, and to married life in Cupertino. Her jet-setting mother received the desert estate as part of the divorce settlement. After Jessica left for College, her mother took off too, returning only when she was not with, or in pursuit of, yet another husband. She was with number four somewhere in the Mediterranean. Her mother’s absence was the main reason Jessica had allowed the family home to become a place of refuge as her adult life collapsed around her. She loved her mother a lot more from a distance than when they were in the same room together.
Bernadette put her hands on her hips. That was a bad sign.