By Delia Rosen
Murder’s at the menu during this savory debut. Gwen (nee Katz) Silver heard the brisket at her uncle’s Jewish deli, Murray the Pastrami Swami—the just one of its style in Nashville, Tennessee—was “to die for.” yet she didn’t detect that intended actually… while Gwen learns she’s inherited Murray’s, the local New Yorker leaves her chaotic profession and messy divorce at the back of to begin over in Nashville. however the enterprise turns out doomed from the beginning. Murray’s taken his recipes and mystery checklist of foodstuff providers to the grave with him, and ruthless genuine property developer Royce Sinclair will cease at not anything to attempt and sandwich Murray’s into his already overstuffed portfolio. Then, on Kosher Karaoke evening, longtime consumer Buster Sergeant bites into his brisket…and bites the airborne dirt and dust. The coroner says nutrients poisoning, yet Gwen’s now not confident. Now, with the aid of hunky police detective Beau McClintock, “Nashville Katz”—as Gwen is instantly nicknamed—will locate herself including “private investigator” to her resume—and a brand new like to her lifestyles.
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Additional info for A Brisket, A Casket: A Deadly Deli Mystery
I shrugged. “Luke spotted it on the conveyor belt and pushed his way through the crowd. ” “I told you, Luke saw it. ” Thomasina looked skeptical. “They” meant the Star Deli in Burbank, California, and she mistrusted anyone or anything beyond the Tennessee border. Never mind that I’d only phoned in a long-distance pastrami 911 because our local meat distributor messed up my order, which I’d in turn only placed after our online corporate catering orders had mysteriously gotten zapped into cyber limbo.
She continued to peer across the table. Too tired for a staring contest, I lowered my eyes to the cereal boxes between us. One was Lucky Charms, her seven-year-old Cole’s fave. The other was Cocoa Puffs, which his brother Jimmy, who was a wizened eight, deemed a superior product. I had cast my lot with Jimmy. Probably the reason was my chocolate fetish. Also, I identified with the cuckoo bird mascot, since its crest kind of resembled mine before I dragged a brush through the frizz every morning.
Twelve corned beef. Plus seven sliced briskets in gravy. Well, make it eight briskets. ” I did some quick first-grade math. Minus my dinner plate, that totaled up to the full party of thirty. “How long can you stall? ” Thomasina scrunched her forehead. ” She expelled a breath. “We wait much longer’n ten minutes, stomachs are gonna rumble—” “Stretch it to twenty minutes. Roll out some extra chopped herring and lox platters. With plenty of bagels. And the Fiddler’s Fried chicken wings. ” I paused.