Gregory Mcdonald - Fletchs Moxie

Books by Gregory Mcdonald

Fletch
Fletch Won
Fletch, Too
Fletch and the Widow Bradley
Carioca Fletch
Confess, Fletch
Fletchs Fortune
Fletchs Moxie
Fletch and the Man Who

Son of Fletch
Fletch Reflected

Flynn
The Buck Passes Flynn
Flynns In
Flynns World

Skylar
Skylar in Yankeeland

Running Scared
The Brave

Safekeeping
Who Took Toby Rinaldi? (Snatched)
Love Among the Mashed Potatoes (Dear M.E.)

Exits and Entrances
Merely Players
A World Too Wide

The Education of Gregory Mcdonald

(Souvenirs of a Blown World)

GREGORY MCDONALD
Fletch Reflected

Gregory Mcdonald is the author of twenty-six books, including eleven Fletch novels and four Flynn mysteries. He has twice won the Mystery Writers of Americas prestigious Edgar Allan Poe Award for Best Mystery Novel, and was the first author to win for both a novel and its sequel. He lives in Tennessee. His Web site is www.gregorymcdonald.com.

ALSO BY G REGORY M CDONALD

Fletch is currently living on the beach with the strung-out, trying to find the source of their drugs, and racking up charges on the expense account. So when multimillionaire Alan Stanwyk offers Fletch a job that could be worth a fortune, he does some investigating. What he discovers is that the proposition is anything but what it seems.

Crime Fiction/0-375-71354-9

As a fledgling reporter, Fletchs editors got him pegged for the society pages. But his first big interview, a millionaire lawyer with a crooked streak, ends up dead in the News-Tribunes parking lot. So Fletch ends up going after the murderer instead.

Crime Fiction/0-375-71352-2

Fletch is getting hitched, and somebody delivered a letter from his unknown father with an invitation to visit him in Nairobi. But as soon as the couple lands, theres a murder at the airport, reports of the old mans incarceration, and hospitality offered by Pops best friend, who flies them across the continent after the old rascal.

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If Tom Bradley, one of Fletchs principal sources, is dead, whos been signing his name to company documents? If hes alive, why does his widow have Toms ashes? Fletch may have more questions than answers, but if hes going to get his reputation back, not to mention his job, hes going to have to get to the bottom of this quick.

Crime Fiction/0-375-71351-4

Fletchs trip to Brazil wasnt exactly planned. But he has plenty of money, and it took him no time to hook up with the luscious Laura Soares. But between the American widow who seems to be following him and the Brazilian widow whos convinced that hes her long-dead husband, Fletch suddenly doesnt have time to enjoy the present.

Crime Fiction/0-375-71347-6

Fletchs Italian fiances father has been kidnapped and presumably murdered, and Fletch is on the trail of her stolen art collection. But when he arrives in his apartment to find a dead body, things start to get complicated. With the police on his tail, Fletch makes himself at home in Boston, breaking into a private art gallery, entertaining his future mother-in-law, and visiting with the good Inspector Flynn.

Crime Fiction/0-375-71348-4

Once an investigative reporter of questionable methods, Fletch hasnt been a practicing journalist for years, but when agents Eggers and Fabens approach him with too much information about himself and an invitation to the American Journalism Alliance convention, how could he refuse? So he finds himself enlisted as a spy among his peers. But before he can even set up his surveillance, theres a murder. And almost everybodys a suspect.

Crime Fiction/0-375-71355-7

Governor Caxton Wheelers presidential campaign has been leaving dead women in its tracks. Are the murders just coincidence, or is a cold-hearted killer looking for a job in the White House? As the governors press representative, Fletch is working overtime to find the killer and to make sure the governor doesnt lose any more votes.

Crime Fiction/0-375-71349-2

Flynn, 0-375-71357-3
The Buck Passes Flynn, 0-375-71360-3
Flynns In, 0-375-71361-1
Flynns World, 0-375-71358-1

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What happened to Steve? The woman in the canvas chair leaned forward. She had not looked around from the television screen since Fletch entered the pavillion. No one else was there. She was speaking to herself, or to the air. For Gods sake, whats wrong? she said in a tight, low voice.

Even under the canopy on a sunless day, the screen of the television monitor was blanched by daylight from the beach.

From where Fletch was standing, he could see the pale images flickering on the screen. Across a few meters of beach, between the cameras, standing lights, reflectors, and sound booms, he could see the reality of what was on the screen, the set of The Dan Buckley Show, host and guests.

In the middle chair sat Dan Buckley wearing white trousers, loafers, and a light blue Palm Beach shirt. Even at a distance, amiability seemed stuck on his face like a decal. To his left, in a long, white bulky dressing gown sat Moxie Mooneythe gorgeous, perky, healthy, fresh-faced young film star called away from her make-up table to oblige an on location talk show. To Buckleys right sat Moxies agent, manager, and executive producer, Steve Peterman in three-piece, pearl-gray suit, black shoes, and cravat.

Only Steve Peterman wasnt sitting properly in his chair. He was slumped sideways. His head was on his right shoulder.

Fletch looked at his watch.

At the back of the talk-show set a heavy, brightly colored, split curtain moved slightly in the breeze. Behind the set, down the beach the Gulf of Mexico was gray-blue in that light. On all sides of the set was the paraphernalia of a much bigger set, the location of the film-in-progress, Midsummer Nights Madness, starring Moxie Mooney and Gerry Littleford. Odd-shaped trailers were parked on the beach, each facing a different direction, as if dropped there. False palm-thatched huts were here and there. Thick black cables ran every which way over the sand. Low wooden platforms, like portable dance floors, were tilted on the beach. Strewn everywhere were the odd-shaped light rigs, reflectors, cameras, and sound cranes. The whole beach looked like a sandbox of toys abandoned by a giant, rich child. Among all these trappings moved the film crew of Midsummer Nights Madness, working, apparently oblivious of the taping going on in their midst.

What happened? the woman repeated in a hoarse whisper.

Fletch put his glass of orange juice back on the bar table. He stood quietly behind the woman in her canvas chair. She still hadnt looked around at him.

Closer, he could see the monitor more clearly. In a loose head-shot, Moxie was alone on screen, laughing. Then she looked to her right, as if seeking confirmation from Steve Peterman, as if turning the conversation over to him. Moxie stopped talking with a short, sharp inhale. Laughter left her face. One eyebrow rose.