The Pfister: Putting Lipstick on a Pig (Rep & Melissa Pennyworth Mystery)

Vance Hayes Died While Joyriding On A Snowmobile Late One Night And Breaking Through Thin Ice Near The Wisconsin Dells. The Cold-hearted, Hard-headed Lawyer Goes Unmourned By Clients, Colleagues, Or Anyone Else—including His Reluctant Eulogist, Fellow Attorney Rep Pennyworth. In Fact, Interest In Hayes’ Death Is Merely Perfunctory Until It Inter-sects With The Perils Facing Charmingly Ingenuous Vietnamese-american Court Reporter Sue Key, Tied To Milwaukee’s Hmong Community. Could It Be That Hayes Died Not Because Of Any Of The Rotten And Vicious Things He Spent His Career Doing To Literally Hundreds Of People, But Because Of The One Decent, Human Endeavor That Marked His Adult Life? The Situation Is Further Complicated By Deer Season When For Several Weeks In The Fall, “up North” Is Home To 700,000 People Carrying Loaded Firearms. And By The Presence Of A Gaggle Of Lawyers, Patrician And Plebian, Grouped Around Indianapolis And Milwaukee, Not To Mention A Private Eye, An E-tailer Into Books, And A Seedy Photographer. Can Rep And His Shrewd Wife Melissa Find In Them The Key To Solving The Puzzle Of Vance Hayes’ Death?

A cold-hearted lawyer is unmourned by clients, colleagues, or anyone else. Interest in Vance Hayes' seemingly accidental death is truly perfunctory until it intersects with peril facing Vietnamese-American court reporter Sue Key, tied to Milwaukee's Hmong community.

Publishers Weekly

At the start of Bowen's winning third mystery to feature Rep and Melissa Pennyworth (after 2004's Unforced Error), the couple have moved to Milwaukee, Wis., where Melissa has taken a university job and Rep has opened a branch office for his Indiana law firm. When Rep hears of the untimely death of despised attorney Vance Hayes, he's not particularly remorseful, but is shocked when Mackenzie Ken Stewart asks him to deliver the eulogy. Rep complies out of respect for Stewart, a well-connected legal eagle who can funnel work to Rep's new office. Almost two years later, Rep is pulled into a strange case involving doctored photographs for a client with ties to Hayes. Rep is soon caught up in a bizarre series of events with too many coincidences and menacing foes. When Melissa tries to help and is nearly killed, Rep is no longer sure whom he can trust. Bowen effectively captures his Midwestern locale and takes readers on a fast-paced, exciting ride. (July) Copyright 2006 Reed Business Information.

Vance Hayes died while joyriding on a snowmobile late one night and breaking through thin ice near the Wisconsin Dells. The cold-hearted, hard-headed lawyer goes unmourned by clients, colleagues, or anyone else, including his reluctant eulogist, fellow attorney Rep Pennyworth. In fact, interest in Hayes' death is merely perfunctory until it intersects with the perils facing charmingly ingenuous Vietnamese-American court reporter Sue Key, tied to Milwaukee's Hmong community. Could it be that Hayes died not because of any of the rotten and vicious things he spent his career doing to literally hundreds of people, but because of the one decent, human endeavor that marked his adult life? The situation is further complicated by deer season when for several weeks in the fall, "up north" is home to 700,000 people carrying loaded firearms. And by the presence of a gaggle of lawyers, patrician and plebian, grouped around Indianapolis and Milwaukee, not to mention a private eye, an e-tailer into books, and a seedy photographer. Can Rep and his shrewd wife Melissa find in them the key to solving the puzzle of Vance Hayes' death? The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers, or at least one. ... Vance Hayes died late one night when his snowmobile broke through thin ice near the Wisconsin Dells. The cold-hearted, hard-headed lawyer is not mourned by clients, colleagues, or anyone else--including his reluctant eulogist, fellow attorney Rep Pennyworth. Interest in Hayes' death is truly perfunctory until it intersects with peril facing charmingly ingenuous Vietnamese-American court reporter Sue Key, tied to Milwaukee's Hmong community. Could Hayes have died not because of any of the rotten and vicious things he spent his career doing to literally hundreds of people, but because of the one decent, human endeavor that marked his adult life? The situation is complicated further by deer season when several weeks in the fall, 700,000 people carrying loaded firearms head "up north." And by the presence of a gaggle of lawyers, patrician and plebeian, grouped around Indianapolis and Milwaukee, not to mention a private eye, and a seedy photographer. Can Rep and his shrewd wife Melissa find in them the key to solving the puzzle of Vance Hayes' death? "Bowen effectively captures his Midwestern locale and takes readers on a fast-paced, exciting ride."—Publishers Weekly Vance Hayes died while joyriding on a snowmobile late one night near the Wisconsin Dells. The cold-hearted, hard-headed lawyer goes unmourned by clients, colleagues, or anyone else—including his reluctant eulogist, fellow attorney Rep Pennyworth. In fact, interest in Hayes' death is merely perfunctory until it intersects with the perils facing Vietnamese-American court reporter Sue Key, who is tied to Milwaukee's Hmong community. Could it be that Hayes died not because of any of the rotten and vicious things he did, but because of one decent, human endeavor? The situation is further complicated by deer season when for several weeks in the fall, "up north" is home to 700,000 people carrying loaded firearms. Can Rep and his shrewd wife Melissa find in them the key to solving the puzzle of Vance Hayes' death? "Bowen effectively captures his Midwestern locale and takes readers on a fast-paced, exciting ride." Publishers Weekly Vance Hayes died while joyriding on a snowmobile late one night near the Wisconsin Dells. The cold-hearted, hard-headed lawyer goes unmourned by clients, colleagues, or anyone elseincluding his reluctant eulogist, fellow attorney Rep Pennyworth. In fact, interest in Hayes' death is merely perfunctory until it intersects with the perils facing Vietnamese-American court reporter Sue Key, who is tied to Milwaukee's Hmong community. Could it be that Hayes died not because of any of the rotten and vicious things he did, but because of one decent, human endeavor? The situation is further complicated by deer season when for several weeks in the fall, "up north" is home to 700,000 people carrying loaded firearms. Can Rep and his shrewd wife Melissa find in them the key to solving the puzzle of Vance Hayes' death?