The body in the bog

Katherine Hall Page

Book - 1996

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MYSTERY/Page, Katherine Hall
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Subjects
Published
New York : Morrow c1996.
Language
English
Main Author
Katherine Hall Page (-)
Edition
1st ed
Item Description
"A Faith Fairchild mystery".
Physical Description
276 p.
ISBN
9780380727124
9780688145736
Contents unavailable.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

The cozy village of Alesford, Mass., may seem an unlikely spot for murder, but such crimes gravitate toward Faith Fairchild, the local minister's wife and self-employed caterer. In her seventh case (after The Body in the Kelp), the sleuthing mother of two and her husband, Tom, find themselves in the middle of a town controversy over the proposed development of Beecher's Bog, a popular nature spot. The disagreement turns nasty when opponents of the planned luxury housing begin receiving poison pen letters. An arson fire and a corpse later, the town's residents are enraged and fearful as they plan the annual Patriots' Day celebrations. Faith keeps an eagle eye out for the murderer, whom she eventually encounters in her own company kitchen. While Page's pacing lacks crispness, some unusual characters-a preschool teacher who has an apparent double life and the feisty town historian who heads up POW! (Preserve Our Wetlands!)-and Faith's good nature generally compensate in this New England mystery, which is accompanied by five recipes, including one for Faith's Yankee Pot Roast. (Apr.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by Library Journal Review

Although Page (The Body in the Cast, LJ 10/1/93) employs an alliterative title gimmick, the real hook lies in the recipes she has included in her book. Series sleuth Faith Fairchild occupies her time in small-town Massachusetts with her husband, Tom, a preacher; their two small children; Have Faith, her catering business; and an occasional murder. When wetlands are converted into a chi-chi housing development, poison pen letters fly, one of the houses burns, and police discover murder. Faith's persistent quest for clues exposes many secrets, but the ultimate confrontation occurs in Have Faith's kitchen. Well-delineated action and characters mix easily with Faith's attendant domesticity. A good read. (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review

The seventh in the author's recipe-laden, rife-with-murder adventures set in Aleford, the small Massachusetts town where amateur snoop Faith Fairchild (The Body in the Basement, 1994, etc.), wife of the minister and mother of two, runs a catering service. Aleford's citizenry is being torn apart by the plans of builder Joey Madsen, brash and ambitious, who wants to convert Beecher's Bog to Alefordiana Estates--a swath of high-priced houses. Town doyenne Millicent Revere McKinley, with computer expert Brad Hallowell, bird-watchers Nelson and Margaret Batcheldor and others, are busy recruiting members to POW--Preserve Our Wetlands. Meanwhile, Brad's ex-girlfriend, prim nursery-school teacher Lora Deane, one of the extensive clan, is having her own problems with threatening phone calls, a brick through her window, and a second identity, soon ferreted out by Faith. All this pales when Margaret Batcheldor's body is recovered from a new, unoccupied house--one of Joey's--that has burnt to the ground. The verdict is murder; weeks later, in midst of Patriots' Day celebrations, husband Nelson gets a near-fatal dose of poison. There's yet another death--this corpse discovered by Faith, who, between meetings, meals, catering jobs, funerals, sermons, and child care, resolves to set a trap for the killer in a clichéd climax. A good-humored but soon tedious domestic chronicle (mercifully sans dogs and cats), allied with talkative, mildly interesting characters and makeshift plotting. Cozies' fans will find it comfy if not compelling. (Author tour)

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

The Body in the Bog A Faith Fairchild Mystery Chapter One Seeing another woman in the Reverend Thomas Fairchild's arms was not a sight his wife, Faith, had expected. She'd flung open the door to her husband's study prepared to deliver an impassioned account of the infuriating selectmen's meeting she'd just attended this April evening. Instead, she stood frozen onthe threshold, perversely embarrassed at having walked in on something. Then the anger so conveniently close to the surface veered toward another target and she made her presence known by slamming the door -- hard. As a matter of course, Tom had to comfort the afflicted in mind, particularly the bereaved, and Faith could only hope that the woman, whoever she was, had lost her entire family to the bubonic plague, or else there would be some serious explaining due. While she was considering whether to grab said woman by the hair, wrenching her from the good reverend's grasp, Tom spoke. "Faith, you're home!" "Yes, dear," she replied, quelling the impulse to add, "obviously." She'd no sooner spoken when the woman turned around and abruptly threw herself into Faith's arms. "I'm so glad you're here!" she cried. So was Faith. It was Miss Lora, almost-five-year-old Benjamin Fairchild's beloved nursery school teacher and sometime weekend sitter for Ben and his younger sister, Amy. Miss Lora was crying. Miss Lora was upset. Faith patted Miss Lora's back, the fleeting earlier notion of clocking her one totally obscured. This was the woman who provided her son with quality care and -- possibly more important -- actually enabled the elder Fairchilds to get away for a few weekends alone together. Faith looked at Tom over Miss Lora's heaving shoulders. It was a bit difficult to read his expression since, Janus-like, one side of his face was registering deep concern while the other displayed acute embarrassment. He repeated his earlier cogent remark. "Ah, honey, you're home," adding, "and early. Good, good,good." Faith again opted for brevity. "Yes," she replied, trusting that after six years of marriage, Tom could read the volumes between the lines, volumes entitled, "What the Hell Is Going on Here?" "Lora came to discuss a problem, and I've been trying to convince her that it really is a police matter." Things were looking up. Faith loved nothing better than poking her nose into police matters. But Miss Lora? What on earth could be going on? "Absolutely not! No police," Lora said, fishing around in her pocket for a tissue, with which she proceeded to blow her already-red nose noisily. Faith regarded the teacher and thought, not for the first time, that Miss Lora needed to look to a fashion beacon other than Raggedy Ann. Lora wasn't wearingred-and-white-striped tights and a ruffled apron at the moment, but these were staples of her wardrobe, which also included a number of shapeless denim andcorduroy jumpers, gingham blouses, and the like. She had an abundance of mousy brown hair, worn pulled back with a scrunch. Unlike the doll, however, she didnot have even a hint of red on her lips or cheeks. What paint there was lay under her fingernails, the result of active participation with her young charges. "Why don't we go into the kitchen and have something to eat while you tell me all about it?" Faith suggested. The makeover could wait. "I assume," she said to Tom, "that the children are asleep." "Naturally," he replied, adopting an attitude of injured dignity as he led the way into the parsonage kitchen. A parsonage was the last place Faith Sibley Fairchild had expected to be spending her adult years. It had been bad enough growing up in one. Tradition-bound, Faith's father, the Reverend Lawrence Sibley, donned the cloth, as had his grandfather and father before him. He also clung to Sibley family mores by naming his daughters Faith and Hope. Charity might have followed had not his wife, Jane Sibley, a real estate lawyer, put her well-shod little foot down. Enough was enough. Faith had chafed at the fishbowl existence as a "preacher's kid" -- the freely offered, "well-meant" remarks at the way the Sibleys raised their children, ate, drank, even slept, if it was too late. The fishbowl was, however, nicely located on Manhattan's Upper East Side, and that had helped. Spurred by her younger sister's meteoric rise in the world of finance, Faith had finally found her own true calling -- as a caterer -- and Have Faith was born. After glowing reviews and by much deliciously satisfied word of mouth, she became the caterer of choice for the Big Apple's glitterati. Have Faith jams, jellies, chutneys, and sauces followed. Then, at a wedding reception, while checking to see whether a tray of the smoked trout wrapped in an herbed crêpe topped with a soupçon of caviar and crème fraîche was holding out, Faith met Tom Fairchild. He'd changed collars, and it wasn't until they'd talked into the wee hours of the morning that the fact that she'd fallen head over heels in love with a minister hit her full force. It hit her again when she found herself in the small village of Aleford, Massachusetts, after their own wedding. She was acutely homesick -- and bored. She was determined not to sacrifice her standards, and kept her wardrobe and haircut up-to-date. At present, her thick blond hair was chin-length, parted on the side, enabling her to let the curtain fall strategically across her face. Trips home always included the three B's -- Barneys, Bergdorf, and Bloomingdale's -- along with two others -- Bendel, and Balducci's for food, if she had time. Yet, the years in Aleford had proved more eventful than she could have predicted. The place was beginning to grow on her, like the ivy and old mosses attacking the brick parsonage walls. Not only had she produced... The Body in the Bog A Faith Fairchild Mystery . Copyright © by Katherine Page. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold. Excerpted from The Body in the Bog by Katherine Hall Page All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.