First in series bridge mystery: Grand Slam Murders

After four bridge players are poisoned, newspaper reporter Wendy Winchester sets out to catch a killer who’s not playing with a full deck . . .

When the four wealthy widows who make up the venerable Rosalie Bridge Club never get up from their card table, this quiet Mississippi town has its first quadruple homicide. Who put cyanide in their sugar bowl? An aspiring member and kibitzer with the exclusive club, Wendy takes a personal interest in finding justice for the ladies.

She also has a professional motivation. A frustrated society columnist for the Rosalie Citizen, she’s ready to deal herself a better hand as an investigative reporter. This could be her big break. Plus, she has a card or two up her sleeve: her sometimes boyfriend is a detective and her dad is the local chief of police.

Partnering up with the men in her life, Wendy starts shuffling through suspects and turning over secrets long held close to the chest by the ladies. But when a wild card tries to take her out of the game, Wendy decides it’s time to up the ante before she’s the next one to go down . . .


About the Author

R. J. Lee follows in the mystery-writing footsteps of his father, R. Keene Lee, who wrote fighter pilot and detective stories for Fiction House, publishers of WINGS Magazine and other ‘pulp fiction’ periodicals in the late ’40’s and ’50’s. Lee was born and grew up in the Mississippi River port of Natchez but also spent thirty years living in the Crescent City of New Orleans. A graduate of the University of the South (Sewanee) where he studied creative writing under Sewanee Review editor, Andrew Lytle, Lee now resides in Oxford, Mississippi.

 

What it feels like when you’re the slow student: Bridge Edition

Have you ever had a student who seems lost, truly lost, and you wonder what is going on inside hir head?

Now I have my answer. Because recently I tried to learn Bridge.[1]Grand Slam

I knew the game was supposed to be fun, even addicting, if E.F. Benson is to be believed. I couldn’t wait to see what the fuss was about.

Well.

I don’t know if it’s because I have little experience with card games, or a brain that isn’t wired the right way, or some combination, but I wasn’t getting it.  My tablemates tried to explain unfamiliar terms to me, using other, equally unfamiliar terms and concepts.

One individual (whose personal value system apparently ranks honesty above kindness) opined that I needed to be placed into the remedial class.

There’s been a trend recently toward getting rid of remedial classes at the college level. It’s not hard to see why. Remediation is expensive, and barely moves the needle.

But I’m not sure tossing students into the deep end is the best approach. Being that far behind everyone else can be pretty demotivating.  I  still had a delightful evening, but most college classrooms don’t offer the option of giving up and heading for the bar.

[1] Many thanks to Leslie and Robin for their hospitality and patience!