The Mournful Teddy

Book 1: A Bear Collector's Mystery

by John J. Lamb

Genres: Hard-Boiled

Synopsis

Retired San Francisco cop Brad Lyon is settling into a quieter life with his wife Ashleigh in Virginia’s mountain country, where they collect and create teddy bears. But even here, stuff happens...
  
The day is here—and Brad Lyon is helping his wife put the finishing touches on her best bears, just in time for the Shenandoah Valley Teddy Bear Extravaganza. The event will draw fur-ball fanatics from near and far—to buy, sell, or simply ogle the bears. But the main event will be the showing of the Mourning Bear, made to commemorate the sinking of the Titanic—and worth a hefty $150,000.
 
Then a local also meets a watery grave—and Brad Lyon spots the body floating in the Shenandoah. Old habits die hard, so Brad starts investigating like a homicide cop and finds that the deceased might have had a connection to the Mourning Bear. But the local law would prefer that Brad keep his mouth sewn shut...

Release date: August 1, 2006

Publisher: Berkley

Print pages: 304

Sample

One Hot Teddy

Uncle Dorsey was vague about how he’d obtained the Mourning Bear, saying he’d “found” it while on duty somewhere in Germany. Call me suspicious, but I can’t tell you the number of thieves I met during my police career that, when arrested for possession of stolen property, claimed that they’d “found” the hot goods.
 Once Ashleigh was free to talk, I asked, “Hey sweetheart, do you know who owns the Mourning Bear they’re auctioning today? Elizabeth Ewell. Recognize the name?”
 Ash’s lips tightened slightly. “I know of her. Liz Ewell is very wealthy, so she didn’t come into town very much to associate with us rabble. Thinks she can get whatever she wants.” Ash’s voice became increasingly surly. “Back in 1972, she decided that she wanted some land my daddy owned but didn’t want to sell, so she got a Richmond lawyer and went to court. She won only because she had so much money that she could have bankrupted us just by keeping it in the courts.”
There was an unholy light in Ash’s eyes and a dormant Virginia mountain accent emerged in her voice. “She called my daddy an ignorant hillbilly and said she hoped he’d learned his lesson not to cross his betters.”
“Maybe she’s changed. After all, she’s donating the auction proceeds to charity.”
“More likely trying to buy her way into heaven.”
“Want to hear something else interesting?” I lowered my voice. “As of about an hour ago, the Mourning Bear wasn’t here yet…;”