THE CRANEFLY ORCHID MURDERS

When Phoebe Eldridge signs over her property to Montgomery Mausz, attorney for real-estate developer Harry Ness, who wants to build Ocean Zephyr Estates, most of Martha’s Vineyard is up in arms. The Parks and Recreation committee wanted the land for a campground. Tom More wanted it for his Cranberry Fields commune. The physician’s golf club consortium wanted to open a private course. And the Conservation Trust wanted to protect fragile ecosystems. Asked by the Trust if she can spot any endangered species, nonagenarian Victoria Trumbull is soon tramping the Sachem’s Rock area with a bratty 11-year-old escort and finding the purple-spotted cranefly orchid, whose presence could delay redevelopment plans. The plants are suddenly removed, then reappear and vanish once more. Just as Phoebe’s getting used to this rhythm, a couple of bodies pop up; Phoebe’s prodigal son puts in an appearance; and p.i. Spencer Kirschmeyer is knocked into a coma by a falling tree while trying to bug Victoria’s house. Who’s doing all the replanting? Why is Phoebe’s son secretly living in a hillside cave? And, by the way, did those two men die over real-estate shenanigans or over romance gone askew? Naturally, the murderer will confess only to Victoria, who acts as if it all makes perfect sense. Few readers will agree.

The good news is that there are fewer clams, less water and island lore, and less gore than Deadly Nightshade (2001). A nice nap might refresh Victoria’s reasoning prowess, though.