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Description
Why Did You Die Mrs. Adams? is an intriguing coming-of-age novel following Samantha, a high school junior trying to navigate the typical trials of being a teenager. Samantha’s mother pines for a lost love, and she has no father present to lean on. Due to her mother’s lack of emotion, Sam hasn’t gotten the attention she’s wanted her whole life. Thankfully, her Gram and her Uncle Jeff are the only family she needs. Intense trauma strikes when, in one week, she experiences the deaths of her mother and Mrs. Adams, a nearby neighbor friend.
Her grief morphs into anger and curiosity when she becomes consumed by the need to solve these two mysterious deaths. After frustrating her family, Sam enlists her friends Lois and Josh to outwit an alleged killer. Between the three of them, they are determined to solve crimes that Sam has magnified in her mind.
Murder isn’t the only mystery, though. Sam also seeks the father she has never met, wondering if he’s out there somewhere. Intrigue abounds, as Sam becomes an obsessed investigator, all while fighting her grief and managing her own demons. Who is the killer, and will Sam be saved or shattered by the discovery?
Sujets
Informations
Publié par | Archway Publishing |
Date de parution | 07 septembre 2022 |
Nombre de lectures | 0 |
EAN13 | 9781665723046 |
Langue | English |
Poids de l'ouvrage | 1 Mo |
Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0200€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.
Extrait
Why Did You Die, Mrs. Adams?
Gail L. Howell
Copyright © 2022 Gail L. Howell.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Archway Publishing
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.archwaypublishing.com
844-669-3957
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
ISBN: 978-1-6657-2303-9 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6657-2304-6 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2022908329
Archway Publishing rev. date: 08/22/2022
“Why is it we try to get it right, when all we do is get it wrong.”
glh
Contents
Chapter 1 Samantha
Chapter 2 Samantha
Chapter 3 Samantha & Lois
Chapter 4 Samantha
Chapter 5 Samantha
Chapter 6 Samantha
Chapter 7 Samantha
Chapter 8 Samantha
Chapter 9 Samantha
Chapter 10 The Morrison Town Newspaper Ledger
Chapter 11 Lois
Chapter 12 Lois
Chapter 13 Lois
Chapter 14 Samantha
Chapter 15 Jeff
Chapter 16 Jeff
Chapter 17 The Funeral Service
Chapter 18 Samantha
Chapter 19 Police Chief Stevens
Chapter 20 Samantha
Chapter 21 Samantha & Lois
Chapter 22 Samantha & Lois
Chapter 23 Samantha
Chapter 24 Lois
Chapter 25 Samantha & Lois
Chapter 26 Samantha
Chapter 27 Samantha
Chapter 28 Samantha
Chapter 29 Uncle Jeff
Chapter 30 Jeff
Chapter 31 Todd
Chapter 32 Samantha, Lois, & Josh
Chapter 33 Samantha & Maria
Chapter 34 Samantha
Chapter 35 Jeff
Chapter 36 Samantha
Chapter 37 Samantha, Lois, & Josh
Chapter 38 Samantha
Chapter 39 Samantha & Lois
Chapter 40 Samantha & Lois
Chapter 41 Samantha
Chapter 42 Samantha & Josh
Chapter 43 Jeff & Todd/Mitch
Chapter 44 Samantha
Chapter 45 Jeff & Todd/Mitch
Chapter 46 Jeff
Chapter 47 Josh & Lois
Chapter 48 Richard Adams
Chapter 49 Lois
Chapter 50 Samantha & Lois
Chapter 51 Uncle Jeff & Samantha
Chapter 52 Samantha
Chapter 53 Mitch
Chapter 54 Mitch
Chapter 55 Jeff
Chapter 56 Samantha, Lois, & Josh
Chapter 57 Samantha
Chapter 58 Richard Adams
Chapter 59 Samantha & Richard Adams
Chapter 60 Samantha Goes Missing
Chapter 61 Samantha, Lois, & Josh
Chapter 62 At the Police Station
Chapter 63 Mitch & Jeff
Chapter 64 Samantha
Chapter 65 Samantha
Chapter 66 Jeff, Samantha, & Mitch
Chapter 67 Samantha & Mitch
Chapter 68 Samantha
Chapter 69 Samantha
Chapter 70 Reality & Beyond
About the Author
Acknowledgments
CHAPTER 1
Samantha
I was born in a little town of no consequence. The only notoriety being, I had no father, or at least one present to acknowledge my existence. Regarding that one fact, I overheard my uncle mention that my mother was talked about. No one in my family cared to correct the gossip; we just didn’t bother with those downtown people.
My mother and I lived with my grandmother in the house her father built. My grandmother’s folks were long gone, having lived long lives, long before me. I knew little about them, I could care less. I was told my heritage was Irish, English, and who knew what else. That information came to me unsolicited. I was too busy to care.
What I did remember was, Martha Davies Donnelly (Gram to me), was born in this house. The house had history and my mother for some reason was part of it, probably having something to do with my father. I didn’t care about him either.
When my grandmother married Henry Donnelly, they moved into this family home and had two children, a son and a daughter.
Their daughter was my mother. Her name was Evelyn Donnelly and at 41 years old, I thought she was pretty. I never told her that, we weren’t close I mean mother/daughter close. I’ve recently taken to calling my mother Evelyn; she didn’t seem to care. Her immediate family, her mother (my grandmother) and her brother, Jeff, supported us. Evelyn and I lived with my grandmother in the house her father built. I knew what it was like to be loved. Uncle Jeff and Gram doted on me, my mother not so much.
By the time I was old enough to discover certain facts about my mother’s life, it really didn’t affect me. The reason she sat at the window most days and quietly looked to the sky only left me wondering what the heck she was thinking about. Those days were often, but as a young girl who really didn’t care, I went on with my life as if there weren’t enough hours to fill my space. “My space” was the woods behind my house.
The house my great grandfather built was a small one-story home with a large attic. I was told back in the day that it looked like a little cottage painted a bright yellow surrounded by trees and flowers presenting a calm amongst nature. Now, this sad little house looking worn down gray, still had that comfy cottage look with a front porch that I loved. Even with the railings peeling on that porch, Gram and I would sit on wicker chairs that were also peeling and her memories would unfold. I cared about those days. On my thirteenth birthday, Uncle Jeff redid the entire house inside, including renovating the attic, which became my bedroom.
The best part about the house was the three acres of land that bordered the woods which became my playground. Beyond the fence, it seemed to stretch for miles. The tall maple trees with branches so wide you could climb and sit for hours — which I did often — was the quiet I desired when I needed to think or just dream. It wasn’t as though I was a lonely child. I had family, I had love, but I was often left by myself to create my day. Of course, I was thirteen at the time and now at sixteen, I didn’t go as often as I would have liked.
Today was going to be one of those days, I just needed to be outside and alone in these woods. I yelled to Gram that I’d be back later and flew out the back door. Once there, I noticed the green all around me as well as the colorful wildflowers that seemed to grow in the areas I didn’t inhabit. The squirrels with their long bushy tails would scamper nearby, the deer at dusk were too many to count. It was in the silence of my days in the woods that I found myself. I found laughter, joy and bodily rhythm as I danced around those trees and at times, climbing them.
If you were to view this scene you could only imagine a girl with long lanky legs on a willowy body that led to a freckled face framed by a mass of red, red hair that fell below my shoulders. If it wasn’t for that wild red hair blowing free as the wind, I might have been a boy. That, and the fact that I was flat chested. I wasn’t all that happy about that.
That is what you would have seen, but no one ever came to my woods, no one ever knew I was even there -- except for my grandmother.
She knew, she knew everything.
CHAPTER 2
Samantha
“W here are you off to?” Mom, always wanting to know where I was going and who I was going with.
“School!” I answered back.
“Isn’t it a bit early?” My mother said in her usual firm manner. It was September, school had just started.
“I have my first Student Council meeting; I’ll be home before dinner.”
“Samantha are you aware Uncle Jeff is coming this evening for dinner and Gram will be anxious. Do not be late!”
I thought it wouldn’t be Gram who would be anxious, it would be Evelyn. My mother always wanted to impress her brother and it seemed to me that he was her life, she lived for these visits. Of course, Gram would be pleased to have him join us for dinner, she loved it when he came, but it would be Evelyn that would be doing all the fussing.
My uncle loved me, there was no doubt of how he felt about me. If it wasn’t for me, and most certainly Gram, he wouldn’t give a fig. No, he wasn’t coming for my mother, at least that’s what I thought.
It was always interesting when my uncle visited, I would be on time, if nothing more than to just witness the dynamics of the night. When Jeff came it was for a reason, he came, and we gathered. It didn’t matter the day or the time, there was always a reason for his presence.
I left the house a little after 7:00 without another word and hurried down the sidewalk. I usually take the 8:00 bus, this time I decided to walk the 25 minutes it would take to get there for the early meeting. I like being on the Student Council, not that I make that much of a difference. My grades were excellent, it was my guidance counselor who thought it would look good on my college resume. I’m a worker