They didn't have black,” Chantrelle retorted. That was correct. The girl remembered the day exactly. She had been disappointed that the salon had no black or green nail polish, and asked Mrs. Noonan for money to buy a bottle of black ...
Not murder. Now the soup kitchen is doomed, and the mysteries have just begun. Was the death rooted in a long-ago grudge? Can they save the soup kitchen? Will they find the killer? Could the Fog Ladies, too, end up "in the soup"?
Till death do us part, with kitchen shears.
She witnesses how ugly a marriage can be. But murder? Sarah and the spunky Fog Ladies--elderly neighbors from her San Francisco apartment building--set out to discover the truth.
The Fog Ladies are at it again, spunky senior sleuths and an overstressed young medical resident solving murders from their elegant apartment building in San Francisco.
She witnesses how ugly a marriage can be. But murder? Sarah and the spunky Fog Ladies--elderly neighbors from her San Francisco apartment building--set out to discover the truth.