Nancy Geary graduated magna cum laude from Brown University where she won the Minnie Hicks Prize for her honor's thesis. A Harvard Law School graduate and former Assistant Attorney General of Massachusetts, she recently gave up her practice in order to dedicate herself to writing full time. She lives in Chatham, Massachusetts.
By the time Clio Pratt's body is discovered in the ladies' room of an exclusive Southampton Country Club nearly halfway through this debut murder mystery, almost a dozen suspects, not to mention the reader, want her dead. She blackballs the club membership of an African-American surgeon; she refuses her stepdaughter's desperate request for a loan; she spreads rumors about her widowed friend; she undercuts her husband's business partner. It's business as usual for the Long Island elite whose obsession with appearances, according to Geary, supports a self-important, often destructive social hierarchy. Investigating the crime is Frances Pratt, the victim's stepdaughter, now living on the less affluent North Fork and working as an assistant DA. Frances interviews her father (a stroke victim), her mother (a divorcee having an affair with Frances's boss), and her sister (a gallery owner with expensive taste in artists) as well as the many people Clio has insulted, duped, betrayed and offended. When not delving into her disturbing family history, Frances finds consolation in the arms of a neighbor who cooks, gardens and listens well. Harvard Law graduate Geary proves herself more adept with details of the law court than the tennis court. Her crime and criminals are logical and her investigator is methodical, but her depiction of the Long Island elite milieu is only People magazine-deep. This first novel is more workmanlike than inspired, but Geary shows promise as a nuts-and-bolts crime writer. Agent, Nick Ellison. Foreign rights sold in France, Germany, Italy and the U.K. (July)Forecast: Author publicity in New York, Long Island, Cape Cod, Martha's Vineyard and Boston targets the right audiences, but the book is lacking in the requisite Hamptons glitz even the jacket is more tasteful than titillating. Misfortune?
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