Revenge of the Spellmans: Document #3 (The Spellman Series)($8.80Value)

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From the award-winning author of The Passenger comes the third novel in the hilarious Spellman Files mystery series featuring Isabel “Izzy” Spellman and her highly functioning yet supremely dysfunctional family of private investigators. Private investigator Isabel Spellman is back on the case and back on the couch—in courtordered therapy after getting a little too close to her previous subject, leaving Izzy on hiatus from Spellman Inc. But when her boss, Milo, simultaneously cuts her bartending hours and introduces her to a “friend” looking for a private eye, Izzy reluctantly finds herself with a new client. She assures herself that the case—a suspicious husband who wants his wife tailed—will be short and sweet, and will involve nothing more than the most boring of PI rituals: surveillance. But with each passing hour, Izzy finds herself with more questions than hard evidence. Meanwhile, Spellmania continues. Izzy’s brother, David, the family’s most upright member, has adopted an uncharacteristically unkempt appearance and attitude toward work, life, and Izzy. And their wayward youngest sister, Rae, a historic academic underachiever, aces the PSATs and subsequently offends her study partner and object of obsession, Detective Henry Stone, to the point of excommunication. The only unsurprising behavior comes from her parents, whose visits to Milo’s bar amount to thinly veiled surveillance and artful attempts (read: blackmail) at getting Izzy to return to the Spellman Inc. fold. As the case of the wayward wife continues to vex her, Izzy’s personal life—and mental health—seem to be disintegrating. Facing a housing crisis, she can’t sleep, she can’t remember where she parked her car, and, despite her shrinks’ (yes, plural) persistence, she can’t seem to break through in her appointments. She certainly can’t explain why she forgets dates with her lawyer’s grandson, or fails to interpret the come-ons issued in an Irish brogue by Milo’s new bartender. Nor can she explain exactly how she feels about Detective Henry Stone and his plans to move in with his new Assistant DA girlfriend. Filled with the signature side-splitting Spellman antics, Revenge of the Spellmans is an ingenious, hilarious, and disarmingly tender installment in the Spellman series. “Another wild ride.” —San Francisco Chronicle “Irresistible blend of suspense, irony, and wit.” --Booklist (starred review) Lisa Lutz is the New York Times bestselling, Alex Award–winning author of the Spellman Files series, as well as the novels The Accomplice , Heads You Lose (with David Hayward), How to Start a Fire, The Passenger , and The Swallows . She has also written for film and TV, including HBO’s The Deuce . She lives in upstate New York. Revenge of the Spellmans THE PHILOSOPHER’S CLUB Tuesday An unknown male—approximately fifty-five years old, with an almost full head of gray hair, a slight build, an even slighter paunch, and a weathered but friendly face, garbed in a snappy suit and a not-unpleasant tie—walked into the bar. He sat down at the counter and nodded a silent hello. “What can I get you?” I said. “Coffee,” Unknown Male replied. “Irish coffee?” I asked. “Nope. Just the regular stuff.” “You know, they got coffee shops, if you’re into that sort of thing.” “It’s three in the afternoon,” Unknown Male replied. “It’s still a bar,” I responded, and poured a mug of the stale brew. “Cream and sugar?” I asked. “Black,” he answered. Unknown Male took a sip and grimaced. He pushed the mug back in my direction and said, “Cream and sugar.” “Thought so.” Unknown Male put a five-dollar bill on the bar and told me to keep the change. I rang two dollars into the cash register and put the remaining three into the tip jar. “You Isabel?” Unknown Male asked. “Who’s asking?” I replied. “Ernest Black,” the less-unknown male said, stretching out his hand. “My friends call me Ernie.” I shook it, because that’s what you do, and then picked up a dishrag and began drying some glasses, because that’s what bartenders do. “I heard you used to be a detective,” Ernie said. “Where’d you hear that?” “I was in here the other day talking to Milo.” “You and Milo friends?” I asked. “We’re not enemies. Anyway, Milo said you used to be a detective.” “Private investigator,” I corrected him, and dried some more glasses. There was a long pause while Ernie tried to figure out how to keep the conversation going. “It looks like you’re a bartender now,” Ernie said. “So it seems.” “Is this like a career path or more like a rest stop on a longer journey?” he asked. “Huh?” I said, even though I understood what Ernie was getting at. “I’m just wondering, are you planning on doing this bartender thing long-term or do you think you might go back into the PI business somewhere down the line?” I casually put down the glass and the dishrag. I reached over the bar and grabbed Ernie by the not-unpleasant tie he was wearing and le