by CC Dragon
“I told you to go do it. That or sing. Gus is the feature, but he wanted you here,” Katie insisted.
I looked at Gus. He shot Katie a glare.
“I wanted a date with you without the pressure or issues. We’re helping Katie keep up patronage while the band is gone. Sing or dance?” he asked.
I frowned. “Dance. I don’t need Gran to hear about me singing in public, ever.”
“You’ve got a good voice,” he replied.
I shook my head. “I’m not adding to the failure in my family. Everyone in and around Nashville wants to be a singer. There was a whole TV drama about it. When I get the urge to sing in public, I watch it, and see all the stress and time on the road—and those are people with labels behind them. I’m not setting myself up to fail with crazy dreams. I’m happy here, making smoothies, pastries or boilermakers.”
“Fine, dancing.” He took my hand.
“Finish your drink. I need one to do this.” I pulled my hand away and did a shot.
Just then Angie walked in and sat down next to Gus.
“I heard. Congrats,” she said.
I frowned. “I think you’ve got the wrong person to congratulate.”
“Word is you got a dozen goats. Odd gift,” Angie commented.
“Oh, the goats. Yeah, I have the goats. I was thinking about getting some on my own, so it wasn’t something he came up with. They showed up after the funeral, and it was a total shock. Sweet, I guess.”
“Generous.”
“Luke was a cheater, apparently,” I admitted.
Angie nodded. “He wanted a girlfriend that looked good on his arm. Secretly, he liked women a little bit older than him. Married, mature—not old, but there’s a feeling about them.”
“Megan,” Gus concluded.
“She was divorced. Can you imagine if he was cheating on me with a married woman?” I asked.
“Some men think they can get away with anything,” Angie said.
“Any idea why he likes more mature women?” Gus asked.
“Can I get a rum and Coke?” Angie asked.
“Sure.” I grabbed a glass and made her drink.
She took a sip and looked around. “I’m not a gossip and I have no love lost for that man, but he never killed anyone. He played with his power and cheated on women, but murder is a bit much. His mother died when he was young. He only had his father and brothers growing up. He likes being taken care of, the center of attention. I hate to say a mommy type, but at least a housewife from the fifties.”
“Belle would be a great mom,” Gus replied.
Angie sighed. “I’m not saying she wouldn’t. But she hasn’t been married or had a kid yet. When everyone else expects you to take care of another person over and above yourself, it changes you.”
“I take care of Gran, but she’s still fairly independent, and she raised me.” I pondered what Luke was thinking. “Why wouldn’t he just date Megan since she was single?”
“To keep the power. He needed to be in charge.” Angie sipped her drink.
“What if he got one of the women in his little game pregnant?” I wondered.
Angie grabbed her throat and coughed. “What?”
I poured her a glass of water and set it on the bar.
She sipped the water and cleared her throat. Her index finger extended toward me.
“No, no not me. We never got that far,” I replied.
She took a deep breath. “He wanted kids, but who the mother would be—he was so picky. If things weren’t working, he’d be rude and difficult until the woman ended it. He never wanted to be the bad guy. Insane, but he’d never acknowledge the kid.”
“DNA sort of makes that stupid,” Gus pointed out.
“Sure. I always assumed that’s why he hopped around churches so much. It could be someone in his past or current. I’m sorry I’m not more help. Is someone really pregnant?” she asked.
Gus and I shared a look.
“Wow, if she told him and he rejected her—I wouldn’t blame her.” Angie folded her arms tight across her chest.
Lurlene scooted over. “Hey, Belle, don’t make Gus puke too. We want to dance with him.”
“I’m not what made Megan puke and you know it. You were so into Luke, wanting to be the pastor’s wife—you’re sure you didn’t try to get him nailed down?” I asked her.
She glared and looked around. “No, he and I never dated. You’re sure you and Megan don’t have anything in common?”
“Sorry, I’m too much of a good girl. Now you’ll call me a prude.” I rolled my eyes.
“No, but bees go to the open flowers, not the dead ones,” Lurlene pointed out.
“Watch it,” Gus warned.
“And your dead ex got you goats. Is it creepy to keep them? Do you feel like they’re watching you and will judge when you date other men? Oh, I’m sorry, Sheriff, are you two already a thing?”
“She’s just jealous,” I said.
“If I had a sob story about my childhood, I’d have men wanting to rescue me too,” Lurlene taunted.
I looked at Gus and he slightly signaled no with his head. That was how it felt. When I told guys the truth, they liked to feel like they were making me feel special or safe.
“Jealousy is a bitch,” Angie snapped. “Good night.”
She dropped money on the bar. I closed her tab and took the rest as a tip.
“She just came by to cause trouble. Is she still a suspect?” Lurlene asked Gus.
He shrugged. “I haven’t ruled her out. She came down here to follow up on gossip. She’s invested and very interested.”
“Nonsense charms the multitudes and plain sense is despised. Or maybe she came to help and to get some closure. Luke treated her badly too,” I reminded.
“And nice Belle is back. So boring. Sell those dumb goats. No one wants them,” Lurlene scoffed.
“Your dad is making money off the feed and I bought two enclosures. Why wouldn’t people want them around?” I asked.
“Just smelly and dumb animals.” Lurlene shuddered.
“You sound like a city girl,” Gus teased.
Larry burst from the back room and looked spooked.
“You okay, Larry?” I asked.
“I found a snake in the storeroom. Injured rattler, nasty. I killed it.” He poured himself a drink.
Gus got up. “I’ll check it out.”
Just then Katie got up on stage. “Come on, ladies and gents, cowgirls and boys, let’s form some lines. Gus and Belle are your guides to learn how to tush push and strut around that dance floor. Beginners in the front, experts in the back and give yourself plenty of room. There will be lots of dancing, so if you feel crowded, wait for the next round.”
“We have to do this first.” I pouted and poured myself another shot.
“Fine. I’ll check it after. Make sure no one goes back there and messes with anything. I’ll get a deputy to meet you back there just in case.” Gus sent a text quickly then reached for my hand.
I downed the shot and walked around the bar before taking his hand. Another snake. Was it a joke? A copycat? That was one too many to be a coincidence.
Instead of him standing up and leading the way to the floor, he leaned down and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. Nothing deep or intense, but it sent everyone in the room a message, especially me. We’d be all over town by morning.
Either the shot or Gus was making me warm and tingly, so I could temporarily forget about the third random snake. Lurlene was glaring at me like I’d stolen first prize in a pageant and she was runner-up. Maybe letting Gus solve the murder without my help isn’t such a bad idea?
We hit the dance floor and I knew my gym shoes were a bad choice—I also knew that the suspects dancing in my head would never let me give up on trying to solve a mystery so close to home. This wasn’t Atlanta—this was a small town I’d grown up in.
Chapter Thirteen
I stopped myself at two batches of scones. Without the band gu
ys around, we didn’t need to make as much food at the house. The shop was doing okay, but we didn’t need to overstock. Part of me wanted to binge bake while trying to figure out the snakes.
None of the other snakes had resulted in death or any injury. All the snakes but the python were common for the area. Still, it was odd.
Duke’s sharp bark split my ears—he was chasing the goats. I closed the window to dull the sound but watched as Gran tried to make them all friends. The goats were an added expense and more work, but they’d keep snakes away from the house and yard.
It’d be cute if I didn’t have a headache. The pressure was changing in the air. Storms were coming and my sinuses felt it. A little nasal spray and aspirin was a start.
After starting the dishwasher, I went out through the back door and moved Duke to his run.
“He’s getting better,” Gran said.
“Duke wants to play with the goats. He’s still a puppy. The goats have horns—they could really hurt him. We can’t let them play when we’re not here.” I looked at the pygmy goats and they were just so cute.
“It’s going to rain,” she said.
I nodded. “The enclosures haven’t arrived. We need something.”
Gran smiled. “Milan and my boys are bringing their tall tent things. Not tents, but they block the sun and rain at tailgates or when they go fishing. A canopy. They can sit under the awning thing and drink beer and fish. It’s not side protection, but it’s a roof. We can put a tarp around it to help.”
“Great. There are sides to the pen. It’s not perfect—the pen will get muddy—but it’ll dry,” I said.
The guys drove up in a couple of trucks. I felt awful. I should have a boyfriend to do this stuff. They were my goats. I could set them up myself—I wasn’t some damsel in distress. But southern men always wanted to help.
I walked up and tried to help carry, and they waved me off.
“Cover the big goats first. We can move the pygmies into their crate and put them in the mudroom. Let Duke have the rest of the house,” I decided.
“Smart,” Gran agreed.
Two of the guys rounded up the little goats and moved them inside. Gran and I made sure the pen for the big goats was fastened tight and I added an extra rope tie.
“If we can get the covers above that, they’ll be good,” I pointed out.
“We’re on it.” Milan carried one set of poles over.
I went to the faucet and filled another bucket of water. “Gran, why don’t you go inside and get them a couple bowls of water and food.”
“I’ll put down some of Duke’s puppy pads under the crate,” she said.
“Why didn’t I think of that?” I smiled.
I filled up the water and set the half-full bucket in the enclosure, just in case. I refilled their feed trough and made sure it was under the enclosure.
One canopy was in place and they were working on the second one when I felt the wind pick up.
Gran came out with the scones boxed. “It’s getting late. We have to open.”
“Ow,” Milan yelped.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
He shook his head. The second canopy held and we scooted it into place. Gran walked up to Milan.
“I just pulled a muscle,” Milan replied.
He had a hand on his chest.
“It still hurts?” I asked.
“An ache. It’s a muscle.” He waved it off.
I looked at the other guys and shook my head. “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. I’m calling nine-one-one.”
“No, we’ll go right to the ER. We’ll get there faster than an ambulance coming out here,” Gran insisted.
“I’ll call Gus.” I got behind the wheel as Gran got in next to me. I put the phone on speaker in the stand that stuck to my dashboard.
The guys took off ahead of me. I followed them, keeping up. They were a bit reckless, but luckily it was early and traffic was, well not much at all—it was a small town.
“Belle? What’s wrong?” Gus answered the phone.
“Milan, I think he’s having a heart attack. I said to call for an ambulance but they wanted to drive him there. So, there are three pickup trucks booking through town to the ER. Can we not get pulled over?” I asked.
“I’m coming.” He hit the siren.
In a matter of minutes, Gus pulled in front of the guys and set the pace, leading us to the hospital in the next town.
Milan was taken in and I dropped Gran off at the door. I parked and dashed up to join Gran.
“They took him away. We just have to wait,” Gran replied.
They group sat around, looking nervous.
Gus walked up. “Everyone okay?”
“We are, thanks. Milan is.” I gestured to the back.
“You’ll have to wait for info,” Gus reassured.
Gran took my hand. “Belle, you have to go open the shop.”
“You guys will be okay?” I asked.
“We’ll be fine. We’ll call you with updates,” Gran promised.
“You got your phone?” I asked.
Gran opened her pocketbook and waved it for proof.
“Here are some singles for the vending machines. Get some coffee or tea.” I slid the money into her purse.
“I have money,” she fussed.
“Sometimes we don’t always have singles. Just relax. Milan will be fine.” I patted her shoulder
Gus smiled.
“Maybe I should stay?” I asked.
“No, you have to run our business,” Gran insisted.
My heart was pounding. “See you guys later.”
I walked out of the ER doors and sighed.
“I don’t need any coffee,” Gus teased.
I sighed. “That was an adrenaline jolt. He kept saying it was a pulled muscle. I hope that’s all.”
“At his age, honey, you did the right thing,” Gus replied.
“Honey?” I shot him a look.
“You didn’t punch me after the kiss, so I figured we were getting closer. Don’t like honey?”
“Belle is good for now. Generalized endearments are too common,” I snapped.
“Ah, I should ask you on a proper date first.” He smirked. “What do you say?”
“Once we solve the murder, sure. But I have to get to work.”
“You expect a police escort for free?” he asked.
I frowned. “No, for a real emergency. What did you think you were going to get?”
He folded his arms. “I was teasing.”
“I know, but if you want a kiss, ask for it or kiss me. I’m not the type of girl to trade favors for other favors,” I warned.
It sounded weird, but in Atlanta, people watched themselves a lot more. Men worried about sexual harassment accusations. It was nice to know people enough to recognize their intentions, but I wasn’t going to let Gus play with blurred lines.
I got into my truck and headed for the shop. After opening up the shop, I put out the scones then fired up the coffee machines.
“Late start?” Martha asked as she walked in.
“Oh! Martha, you about scared me out of my heels. Yeah, Milan might be having a heart attack,” I answered.
“You’re not wearing heels, and what?” she asked.
“It’s an expression. Milan came by to lend us a canopy for the goats since it’s going to rain. What? You thought my grandmother had a sleepover guest?” I laughed.
“Why not?” Martha jumped to work. “I know it’s a small town, but it’s not the fifties.”
“To Gran it is and always will be. What about you and Harry?” I teased.
She blushed. “Not while the girls are there.”
“See.” I set up the blender but didn’t get ahead on that.
People started coming in for coffee and breakfast items. While the rush was busy, my mind was occupied with other things instead of Gus or Milan. I kept our customers happy and people stopped and asked about Gran and her guys.
>
Two hours later, I called Gran.
“Hi, dear, it’s okay,” Gran said.
“It wasn’t a heart attack?”
“Oh, no, it was. Just a smallish one. They put in some stitches.”
“Stents?” I asked.
“That’s it. He’s got to stay for a day or two, but he’ll be fine. He’s asking for scones.”
“I think he’ll live without them for a few days,” I replied.
“Okay, well, we have to go. Doc is coming to check on him. Bye,” she said.
Lurlene strolled in as Martha was hanging some of her pictures.
“Goats? Wow, your life just gets sadder and weirder,” Lurlene scoffed.
“You just get meaner,” Martha shot back.
“Just when I thought we were getting to be friends,” I said.
Lurlene smirked. “Berry Smoothie, please.”
I fired up the blender then added extra berries. I handed it over. “Here go you.”
“You’re just going to be nice. Too nice.” Lurlene sighed and handed over her money.
I leaned on the wood counter. “I have had a rough morning, Lurlene. Gran is sitting in the hospital with Milan—he had a little heart attack. I need to be here then pick up Gran later.”
“Then we have class,” Martha reminded me.
“Dang it, class.” I rubbed my eyes. “I don’t have the energy to pick on you. You have work at your daddy’s shop and beauty school, which is a cake walk for you. I’ve got Luke’s murder hanging around and all these annoyed people.”
“Gus is still buzzing around,” Lurlene shot back.
“Did you not hear about Megan?” Martha asked Lurlene.
Lurlene rolled her eyes. “Of course, the town is as big as a pygmy goat’s onesie. I guess Luke was a bad choice.”
“All is not gold that glitters.” I pulled out a fresh loaf of bread and began making sandwiches.
“I’ll take a sandwich. Make up like five,” she said.
“For your coworkers?” Martha moved behind the counter to help.
“No, I’ll run them up to your Gran and friends.” Lurlene stared me in the eye.
“You like being unpredictable, but you’re nice deep down,” I accused.
She sighed. “I assume I’m going to get a free box lunch out of the deal.”
“Sure. But one more favor.”