THE JULIUS HOUSE

Georgia peach Aurora (Roe) Teagarden is set to marry Martin Bartell, the modern Gothic lover/stranger who swept her off her feet in Three Bedrooms, One Corpse (p. 176). Her wedding gift to him, the Ohio family farm where he grew up, occupies the sweet, inconsequential opening chapter of this epithalamium; his gift to her—the house from which the Julius family (father, mother, teenage daughter) vanished six years ago—takes up the rest. Since she's remodeling the house anyway, Roe insists on sifting through the brick and plaster dust for relics of the family, and asks a million soft, nosy questions of the surviving relatives, witnesses, and investigators. This busman's honeymoon would be idyllic if only telltale hints like an attack by an ax-wielding intruder didn't make Roe wonder more and more whether Martin is hiding something from her about the way he makes his living. But she reacts with her usual aplomb—"I instinctively wanted the ax out of the equation, since sharp cutting edges make me nervous"- -until all mysteries, even the most farfetched, yield to her gentle probing. A witches' brew of decorous old bones, whiffs of international intrigue, and helpful wedding tips, interspersed with nightly bouts of tasteful, enthusiastic offscreen coupling. Hands down Roe's most bizarre adventure to date.