Uncle falls off a ladder while cleaning gutters, and has to spend some time in the hospital and rehab, and sends his young assistant off on a couple of small errands for his business. One was to deliver a message to another young woman who was a live-in assistant for an older wealthy woman. When our gal arrives, she is met by the members of a book club devoted to mysteries, who are not able to rouse the older woman to open the door, and are worried. Our gal, having few brains and apparently no scruples, uses one of their keys which they had been given, to enter the house, and after searching the house, finds the woman dead at the foot of a set of outside stairs.
Of course, after being repeatedly told not to involve herself in this business, she involves herself in the business, gets herself kidnapped, and later locked in a closet while the house is set on fire.
Yeah, I know. Like I said, it was a pleasant read, not the best cozy I have ever read, yet, not the worst either. Not sure why it was titled as it was, because really the book club were so peripheral to the story, but hey, ya gotta call them something, right?
McCourtney’s bio says she is the award-winning and New York Times bestselling author of 48 Christian mysteries and romances. OK. Who knew? Prolific, that’s for sure.