St. Augustine, Florida is steeped in history, myth, and charm, and it can’t help but inspire tales of adventure and intrigue. I set one scene there in MURDER PAYS A CALL, and it’s based on personal experience and a genuine fondness for this historic city.

       

        

           

I’ve walked the streets, eaten in the restaurants, visited the historic sites, and shopped along St. George Street in the heart of town. I’ve even had a drink from St. Augustine’s fabled Fountain of Youth.

  

           

Discovered in 1565 by a Spanish soldier on the feast day for St. Augustine, the oldest city in Florida is named after this saint. Today, you can still tour the large fort erected by the Spanish to defend their territory. Visit the lighthouse and the Fountain of Youth archeological park, a pirate museum, old jail, the Lightner Museum, and Flagler College. You can enjoy trolley tours and ghost tours or look for water-related activities. This city also has great restaurants, a pedestrian shopping district, and numerous other historical sites.

My heroine, personal concierge Keri Armstrong, goes there to interview a possible suspect after her friend and client, Fiona Sullivan, is found murdered. Keri means to see Fiona’s nephew, Garvan Connor. She hopes to learn more about his connection to a miracle tonic that may not be exactly what’s promised in its promotional flyers. She learns more than she bargained for at her own peril. It’s exciting when a story takes off in unexpected directions.

Excerpt

Here’s an excerpt from Keri’s adventure with her reporter friend, Pam:

“Now what?” Keri asked after she and Pam were inside her vehicle with the A/C turned on. “Garvan seemed to get upset when I mentioned Vivonin. You’d think he would have offered us a free sample instead of chasing us out.”

Pam nodded. “I agree. He must be hiding something. Do you have an address for the manufacturing plant? If I do an article on false cure-alls, I’ll need accurate sources.”

“I did a search on Google Maps and didn’t find anything at the location given on the website.”

“That’s odd.” Pam glanced into the sideview mirror. “Hold on. Garvan is pulling out of his garage. We should follow him.”

“Why? He’s going to work.”

“Humor me. He’s leaving awfully quick. Maybe he’s going somewhere else first.”

“Okay.” Keri put the car in gear and merged onto the road some distance behind Garvan’s older model Buick.

“I need to do more research, but healthcare products that make false or misleading claims are subject to the law,” Pam said. “This also applies if they contain undisclosed ingredients that could be harmful.”

“Winnie said resveratrol is one of the ingredients in Vivonin. I looked it up. It’s a natural substance with antioxidant properties that can normally be found in red wine.”

“Oh, yeah? That’s a good excuse for a glass of cabernet at happy hour. It would be helpful to have a sample of this miracle drug.”

“I can always buy a bottle from Winnie.” Keri paid attention to the road as they approached an intersection with a couple of drugstores catty-corner to each other, but Garvan didn’t stop there. He turned left and headed west.

Stores with barred windows, tattoo parlors, and pawn shops told her this wasn’t the best part of town. The terrain became more rural, with older frame houses and weed-infested lawns. Fortunately, traffic remained steady, so they could stay on Garvan’s tail several cars behind.

“Looks like your instinct to follow him was correct,” she told Pam, who gave her a thumbs up in response.

Garvan turned right just past an automotive place. Maybe he needed car repairs, in which case they’d guessed wrong about his intentions.

“I think he’s heading for that property beyond the brick wall,” Pam said.

Sure enough, Garvan drove toward a wrought-iron gate that opened at his approach. He must have a remote, Keri figured, as the barrier opened and he drove through.

“I’ll have to park so we can take a closer look,” Keri said. She turned down a side road and pulled up to the curb under the shade of a moss-draped oak.

Soon she and Pam were walking along a cracked sidewalk covered by fallen leaves and acorns. She regretted not wearing sturdier shoes. Her strapped sandals scrunched along, the sound adding to a dog barking in the distance and an airplane droning overhead.

They approached the brick wall, partially covered with creeping vines. A sign said Nutrious Industries. They’d found Vivonin’s manufacturing site.

“What do you suppose Garvan is doing here?” she asked.

Pam’s lip curled. “I’ll bet he’s warning his staff that we might show up.”

“That would only matter if he has something to hide. If he does, maybe Fiona found out about it and threatened to expose his operation. How do we get inside for a better look?”

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Do you like to have pieces of history interwoven into a mystery?