Saving Grace: A Katie Romantic Mystery (What Doesn't Kill You, Book 1)
Pamela Fagan Hutchins
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Katie Connell is a high-strung attorney whose sloppy drinking habits and stunted love life collide hilariously in a doomed celebrity case in Dallas. When she flees Texas for the Caribbean, Katie escapes professional humiliation, a broken heart, and a wicked Bloody Mary habit, but she trades one set of problems for another when she begins to investigate the suspicious deaths of her parents on the island of St. Marcos. She’s bewitched by the voodoo spirit of an abandoned house in the rainforest and discovers that she’s as much a danger to herself as the island’s bad guys are. As the worst of her worlds collide, Katie drags herself back to the courthouse to defend her new friend Ava, an island local accused of stabbing the senator she’s been sleeping with.
Pamela Fagan Hutchins, a former attorney and native Texan, lived in the U.S. Virgin Islands for nearly ten years. She refuses to admit to taking notes for this novel during that time.
unnecessary gifts. We said yes when we should have said no. We said no when we should have said yes. Our swear jar was always full. Oh, yeah. And we were one of those “blended families”—you know the kind, the ones with broken homes, divorces, stepparents and complex custody arrangements. Those people. The ones other parents are leery of, like divorce is a communicable disease or something. Who knows? Maybe it is. My own parents even told me once that I had made my children a statistic by
my son. In eighth grade, Clark received a commendation in all four of the standardized TAKS (Texas Assessment of Knowledge and Skills) subjects. He participated in band and lacrosse. He played a primary role in his middle school play, The Naked King. And yet he almost drove his parents crazy with constant, inexplicable Clarkisms along the way. Back then, his counselor asked us to teach Clark responsibility for his own actions using Love and Logic Parenting in conjunction with the assistance
thumps as she spoke. He said, “The detectives doing all they can to find the murderer. A lot of people hate that man, though. A lot of suspects.” “I know. I know. I just so grateful you kept me out of it, Jacoby.” She put her hand on his arm and stroked his skin with her thumb. I could see the goose bumps in his flesh. “It could have all been so nasty, instead of sad. It supposed to be sad when someone die.” Tears pooled in the corner of her eyes but didn’t fall. “Anything for you, Ava. You
guys coming or what?” Bart shouted up at us. Rashidi, Emily, and I joined the party. Chapter Thirty-five The water blazed with the reflection of our dancing bonfire. I lay back, grinding sand into my salty hair, plastering it against my skin, which was bare except where my gold bikini covered it. If I closed my eyes just right, the stars became the trail of a sparkler waved across the night sky to light the moon. And if I closed my eyes completely, the effects of an afternoon drinking
my truck. Maybe my truck and Rashidi’s Jeep. And I don’t even see a Jeep. That flashing light isn’t right.” We pulled closer. “They’re police cars,” Bart said. Chapter Thirty-six My champagne haze burned off in a flash fire. “What the hell’s going on?” I asked, my voice rising an octave by the last word as I saw two police officers escorting Ava in handcuffs to the car by her front door. She looked up at us, her denim outfit looking tawdry now. The light from my headlights glinted off her