Dying for Money by Claudia Riess
Now for An Excerpt:
“I knew it,” Erika said tonelessly, shoving her phone back into her evening bag; saw the look of horror Greg directed at her, as if she were some devilish prophet; half believed it herself. She gazed back at him, and her numbness suddenly dissolved into tears.
Still, neither of them openly acknowledging whose body lay before them, the blood at the man’s head curling away with the rainwater; Botero’s mighty woman and child, their backs to him, underlying the omission. The figures were dark brown, almost black patinated bronze, and the dead man, in his black suit, seemed part of their tableau, or its discard. One of his arms was jammed against the base of the statue, the other flung to the side, the hand gracefully cupped like a ballet dancer’s—the hand with the ring that had pressed into Erika’s flesh. Looking down at Ivan’s hand, she felt its phantom grip on her wrist; the ring’s forceful dig. Impossible for that hand to have been doomed into stillness.
“I felt for a pulse,” she said, anticipating Greg’s question. “He’s gone.”
She looked away and saw a few people standing behind the glass door at Laszlo’s entrance, waiting to be picked up or for the rain to stop. What must they make of this rain-sodden group, and what did it matter? “The way he reacted to that text or email,” she directed to Greg, down on his knees, checking for a pulse; not taking her word for it; she, grateful to him for sharing the burden of proof. “I could see he was alarmed by the message. I thought he would be coming back after he was done talking or texting, but he never did. I thought it was odd. After all, his client’s lot was coming up for sale.”
Greg rose to his feet, a subtle headshake verifying her medical diagnosis. “And then the lot was removed.”
She nodded. “It was then that I thought the two events—the message on his cell phone and the painting’s unexpected withdrawal—were related. And just now, when I looked out the car window and saw...”
“You had a sense of foreboding—of what you would find. I wish we could cover him, I mean from the rain and all.”
“We can’t disturb the scene.”
“I know. From what I can see, he was shot in the head...” Tentative, as if declaring the words would set them in stone.
“Yes.”
They were silent, standing in the rain that was finally abating, and in that moment the sun completed its descent and darkness fell, a delayed reaction in what seemed an act of respect—or mimicry—of life’s end.
About the Author:
Claudia Riess has worked in the editorial departments of The New Yorker and Holt, Rinehart and Winston, and has edited several art history monographs. Stolen Light, the first book in her art history mystery series, was chosen by Vassar’s Latin American history professor for distribution to the college’s people-to-people trips to Cuba. To Kingdom Come, the fourth, will be added to the syllabus of a survey course on West and Central African Art at a prominent Midwestern university. Claudia has written a number of articles for Mystery Readers Journal, Women’s National Book Association, the Sisters in Crime Bloodletter, and Mystery Scene magazine. To read more about Claudia and her work, visit the author's website.
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7 comments:
Thanks for hosting!
This looks like a fantastic read. Thanks for sharing.
I would enjoy reading this one. Thanks for sharing.
Thank you for your kind comments! Happy to answer any questions.
Great excerpt and giveaway. :)
This sounds like an interesting book and I also like the cover.
Thank you for featuring my book. Much appreciated!
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