If you'd rather place an order by talking to one of our cheerful order desk clerks, please call 1-888-232-4444 (USA and Canada only) or 250-383-6864. From Europe, ring our UK order desk clerk at local rate number 0845 230 9601 (UK only) or 44 (0)1865 722 113.

Sign In, For Murder

by Irene Hughes

232 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #02-1022; ISBN 1-55395-307-X; US$21.50, C$27.00, EUR17.60, £12.20

Looking for a mystery novel with a new category of "sleuth" -- and peppered with humor? Then SIGN IN, FOR MURDER is your answer!

Read more!

about the book      about the author      sample excerpts or Table of Contents      catalogue info

About the Book Twenty-eight people sign in at a real estate "open-house showing" in a foothills area of Virginia's Blue Ridge Mountains on a Sunday in early fall. Five days later one of them is still there. Dead. Murdered. The two female brokers who discover the body are appalled and angered by the ineptitude of the sherriff's deputies who respond to their 911 call. Then further infuriated by the chief investigator's initial dismissal of their offer to assist, they set out to investigate and solve the murder on their own. What ensues are their sometimes hilarious adventures and escapades as they boldly assume disguises , stalk suspects, and generally engage in "sleuthing" activities to check out the other twenty-seven visitors to the open-house. Action culminates with the confrontation between one broker and the murderer.

---

About the Author Among her experiences, Irene Hughes has been a publicity writer in Los Angeles; an English, journalism, and drama teacher in Virginia (Manassas and Nelson); a real estate agent in Richmond; a restauranteur and real estate broker in Lovingston. She currently lives on a farm in central Virginia with her horses and dogs.

---

Excerpts

Chapter 2

    TWENTY MINUTES LATER two deputies from the county sheriff's office arrived, blue lights flashing and tires squealing on the driveway asphalt. They jumped from the car in unison, handguns drawn, and, in combat stance, fanned out to approach the front porch.
    "Well, would you just take a look at THAT! Dumbed- down TV cops, Nelson County's finest!" Blair said, mocking an announcer's voice.
    "Hey, fellas!" Landis called as she rushed from Blair's car. "The lady in there won't hurt you, I promise," she added and smiled, approaching the deputies at the porch steps.
    "Look, Miss, you stay outta this and just let us do our job," snapped the shorter and younger of the two, tight- lipped and puffed up.
    "And just you look, Junior! This is a real crime scene. Serious business. On property for which we're responsible," Landis snapped back.
    The taller, older deputy turned to face Landis. "Sorry for any misunderstanding, Miss... ah..."
    "It's Ms! Ms. Landis Galleher. Town Mountain Realty, Inc."
    "Well, Miz Galya, Deputy Forest here and I were dispatched to check out a murder at this address. We wasn't told particulars. I'm Deputy Logger."
    "No description of the scene? Nothing about us being here? My finding the body?" Landis asked, appalled.
    "No, ma'am. As I said, just a murder at this address."
    "Then, sir, before the forensics team arrives, let me fill you in-"
    "Forensics?" Deputy Forest interrupted. "Nothing was said about no forensics team," he tossed at her.
    "My God, you were actually going right in there and contaminate the scene before the medical examiner- "
    "Ms. Gal-ya, please calm yourself. Briefly tell us the situation here," Deputy Logger directed, cutting an eye toward the front door. "Like, how many are in the house now?"
    "How many?" Landis repeated, incredulous. "Just one. And dead!" Then struggling to wipe the smile from her face, she summarized Sunday's open-house and described the details of today's find. When she finished her story, she advised, "Now, I think you should phone your office for the medical examiner and investigators, and while you're waiting for them you can go over there and interview my partner, Blair Camfield, and her customers so they can leave."
    Deputy Forest glared at Landis, his expression clearly saying "How dare you tell us what to do!" If looks could kill, she would have been a dead duck indeed. Deputy Logger merely nodded, touched his hat brim, and walked away toward Blair and her customers. Deputy Forest made a big production of hoisting his laden gunbelt, managing in the process to brush a hand over his crotch, before strutting after Logger.
    Landis stood watching them, smiling and shaking her head. "Damndest thing I've seen in ages. Better'n old TV's Barney Fife!" she mumbled.

***

    An hour later the medical examiner emerged from the house. "Dead three days, in all likelihood - four, absolute max," he announced to the assembly of deputies and at least one investigator. "Several knife wounds."
    "Three days! But I saw her here Sunday, five days ago. In the same clothes!" Landis insisted to Ned Washburn, the detective in charge of the investigation who had been questioning her. He was tanned, had brown hair sprinkled with a few grays, wore metal-frame glasses, and was dressed neatly in a navy blazer and gray slacks. His manner was cool, detached.
    "Ms. Galleher, could you have left a door unlocked Sunday?" Washburn asked. "We find no evidence of breaking and entering."
    "No. I'm positive I locked all three outside doors."
    "Well, we found the back door unlocked today. Ms. Camfield said she opened only the front."
    "I ran out that way after I found the body. I had to unlock the door to get out."
    "Why not exit from the front?"
    "Because I thought I was going to throw up. And I didn't particularly want the customers to see that. Ok?"
    "Ok!" he echoed, lifting an eyebrow as he appraised her. A tad sassy, he thought. "Makes sense. About the register book from Sunday... do you have it with you?"
    "No. Why should I? It's at the office."
    "Then I'll be by later today to get it. I think that wraps up my questions for you now. You may leave when you wish."
    "I'll just hang 'til you finish, then lock up."
    "No. We'll do that. Don't want anyone crossing the tape."
    "All right. Fine! Then I'll just go notify the owners. Good-bye." She turned to stomp away.
    "I'll be talking to them too. Now!"
     Landis looked back. He was holding a cell phone, and smiling.
    Indeed Ned Washburn was amused. His cultivated detective persona was laconic, almost taciturn, allowing him to observe, characterize, and analyze without revealing his reactions. Consequently, his police work had not desensitized him; rather it had developed him into something of an amateur psychologist. His wife had even encouraged him to pursue a graduate degree, so strong was his interest in the motivations for particular behaviors. So, studying Landis's retreating back, he thought, "She's set to challenge me big time; should be interesting!"
    Landis stalked to her car, thoroughly "put-out" at having been treated like an outsider. Couldn't they see what a big help she could be to the investigation, how important her role was in this situation? "Stupid asses didn't even ask if other agents could have been here to show the house since Sunday. But that's all right," she consoled herself. "I'll just get to the office before Washburn does, and copy Sunday's register. Blair and I'll show 'em. We'll just solve this damn case by ourselves!"

---

Catalogue Information

---