CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
“Shades of William Pierponce Howell,” Linda murmured, a strawberry Twizzler suspended from the side of her mouth.
In fact, we were all gnawing the tasty licorice rods as we watched a dark house with a partial wraparound deck and a carless carport. She was referring to that first official case where we’d had to discover that “secret” I’d mentioned previously of a pretty, young wife married to millionaire septuagenarian, William Howell. The poor thing was murdered not long after we took on the case, as were a few other unfortunate souls. Long story short, we discovered the conniver had put three properties in his wife’s name (a variation of, to be precise). Upon checking out the one in the Ko’olauloa district, we’d found more than we’d bargained for. But, once all was s
