Marshmallows and Murder

by Christy Murphy

  Marshmallows and Murder

  Christy Murphy

  Copyright © 2018 by Christy Murphy

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover designer, Priscilla Pantin, b

  Join Mom & Christy's Cozy Mysteries Club

  http://christymurphy.com

  To David, the inspiration behind DC Cooper

  With special thanks to:

  My family as always

  J. Christopher Sloan

  Carolyn L. Dean

  Jerri from the Cozy Mystery Corner

  Mann/Texas

  Rebecca

  Lacey

  Tammy

  Contents

  1. Dunking and Disaster

  2. Meatloaf and Misgivings

  3. Gossip and Gaffes

  4. A Dead Body and a Diner

  5. Swimsuits and Suspects

  6. Headlines and Ham

  7. Pretzels and Proposals

  8. Cafeteria and Confessions

  9. Dinner and Denouement

  10. A Note from the Author (and her mom)

  Also by Christy Murphy

  Dunking and Disaster

  I watched as the man with the cheesy mustache frowned, shook his head, and reached into his wallet. "You're both going down," he said.

  "Your bank balance is the only thing going down!" Mom yelled back from inside the dunk tank.

  "Yeah!" Mom's best friend, Wenling, chimed in from her seat next to Mom. Yes, they both were in that tank, which I was sure was against some safety rule.

  The crowd laughed. The man's face reddened. I sensed trouble.

  "They're naturals!" Austin, the carnival employee, said to me as he took the man's money. Austin was the one who'd taught Mom and Wenling the "art" of carnival barking. "They've taken to it like fish to water."

  I thought they'd taken to it like fish to a frying a pan—a natural combination, but not so great for the fish. Austin took the mustached man's money, handed him three more soft balls, and stepped back.

  Mr. Mustache tossed a softball at the bullseye and missed again.

  "You're too blind to hit it!" Mom yelled.

  "Your stupidity is what blinds you!" Wenling added.

  There was something about their accents, Mom's Filipino and Wenling's Chinese, and their diminutive older-lady demeanor juxtaposed against their ruthless insults that made them compelling. The crowd ate it up.

  The man's face grew even more red as he tossed the second ball. Another miss.

  "I can throw better, and I'm old," Wenling yelled. The crowd laughed some more.

  He tossed the last of the three balls and missed again. The crowd roared.

  Mom and Wenling clapped and then threw their arms up in the air, making the V for Victory signs with their fingers.

  Mustache Man shook his head. "You ladies are too much, you know that?"

  "We're so much!" Wenling yelled back at the guy with a smile.

  "Thanks for playing!" Mom yelled.

  He'd looked angrier a moment ago, but he smiled as he walked away. Al, our town's mayor, approached us. "Looks like the fair is a success," he said, looking out at the crowd. He was wearing his Fletcher Canyon Fair T-shirt.

  The fair had been his idea. Fletcher Canyon wanted to increase parking at the end of Main Street and to have more money in reserve in case of emergencies. There had been so many wildfires across California lately, it seemed wise. No one wanted to raise taxes.

  Mom and I had decided to rent a booth to sell our new marshmallows and marshmallow pops, and Wenling said she'd help us when she had time. We'd secured a booth at the foot of the mountain not far from the mini-Ferris wheel, the pretzel cart, and the dunk tank.

  Let's just say Mom and Wenling had literally and figuratively been sucked into the excitement of that dang tank. I'd done an okay job manning the booth, but we were out of all of our marshmallows and marshmallow pops. I needed to restock.

  "They draw a crowd," Austin said, pointing at Mom and Wenling.

  Al turned and saw Mom and Wenling.

  "You're not supposed to be in there together!" Al yelled. "Get out of there!"

  "You've got to knock us out!" Mom yelled back.

  "Yeah, knock us out!" Wenling chimed in. "Get in line and pay the money!"

  "If you have any money, you cheapskate!" Mom said.

  "Cheapskate with a big butt!" Wenling added and laughed.

  "Big butt!" Mom screamed with laughter. "That's a new one. It's funny because his head is really big, but it's funnier if you talk about his butt!"

  They reminded me of an Asian female Statler and Waldorf from The Muppet Show, and everyone else was Fozzie Bear.

  Mom and Wenling turned their heckling to the next person in line. I worried someone would hit the bullseye, and the two of them would knock their heads together when they fell.

  They were so short their feet didn't even touch the water in the booth.

  "Those two always cause trouble," Al said to me.

  "They've made Fletcher Canyon pretty famous," I said.

  Mom, Wenling, and I had been on the news for helping solve a few murder mysteries. We'd gotten a decent following on social media, and some people would come to Fletcher Canyon just to see us.

  "I don't know if making our town known for murder is a good thing," Al said, and then turned to Austin. "Can we lose our deposit if they break that tank?"

  "Excuse me," a blonde woman said to me. She had a Southern accent that reminded me of a Southern comedienne named Brett Butler. I turned away from Al and Austin. "We're sold out of the marshmallow pops, but I'll have some more soon."

  The woman shook her head no. "Do you know those women?" she asked, pointing into the booth.

  "That's my mom and her best friend."

  Austin turned and recognized the lady. "Sorry, Hannah! I know they both shouldn't be in there."

  "I'm not working. Wayne's supposed to be in charge. I just came to see everything fall apart. Although, it can't get worse than the other day," she said with a laugh.

  "I hope not," Austin said. "I heard it was pretty bad."

  Hannah rolled her eyes. "That's understating it." I figured she must've been talking about the fight that happened on the day the fair equipment had been delivered. I'll get into that later. She turned back to me. "Is the one on the right the lady from those adult diaper commercials?"

  I laughed. "Yes! She's an actress when we're not catering."

  "I knew it. I thought I saw her here on Main Street the other day. I said to myself that woman looks just like the 'I gotta go' lady."

  "Yup, she's the one," I said, now recognizing the blonde Southern woman. She was the owner of the carnival equipment company's wife. She looked more friendly when she wasn't yelling at her husband.

  "Your mother is such a hoot in those," Hannah said. "Her friend looks familiar, too."

  I told Hannah the story of how Mom and Wenling met. They were extras in a long-running television series that aired in the seventies and eighties. Although Mom was Filipina and Wenling was Chinese, Los Angeles casting directors had figured they could pass for war-torn Koreans. Mom had a few big episodes with the star when she was pregnant with me.

  "I loved that show! Do you think I can get
a photo with them?" she asked.

  "If I can ever get them out of that tank," I said.

  "Their shift is supposed to be over in ten minutes," Austin said.

  "Who's on the next shift?" I asked.

  "No one. We close the tank at six. It gets too cold at night for the dunk-ees."

  "Oh no, there's Wayne," Hannah said, glaring at the greasy-haired fat man talking to the young woman working at the cotton candy stand. "I better get your mom and her friend out of there before that darn husband of mine pitches a fit," she said as she walked over to the tank.

  Austin turned to me. "I hope they come back tomorrow. I'm looking forward to my ten percent."

  "What do you mean ten percent?" Al asked Austin.

  "That's why you get the cheaper rental rate, because we take a percentage," he said.

  "Wayne told me the workers take twenty percent," Al said.

  Austin's face turned angry. "We're not getting twenty. Does it say that employees are getting twenty in your contract?"

  It's was Al's turn to get mad. Al was a great guy, but he was known for having a temper. I figured I'd head over to the dunk tank with Mom, Wenling, and Hannah. Conflict isn't my thing.

  Mom started to climb out of the dunk tank.

  "Keep your hands off the front glass," Hannah said. "It'll leak with too much pressure, and it's a bear to clean."

  Mom nodded and climbed out of the dunk tank. Wenling followed. The crowd booed.

  "I gotta go," she said holding her one arm out and doing a half squat that started the "poop walk" that she'd done in the commercial. Wenling did the same thing. Hannah and the dispersing crowd laughed. I heard murmurs of recognition.

  "Make sure to come back tomorrow, and I'll insult you if you come to the Lucky Dragon for dinner," Wenling called out. Wenling was owner The Lucky Dragon Chinese restaurant here on Main Street. Mom and I used her kitchen for our catering company.

  "Can I get a selfie with you two?" Hannah asked.

  "Sure!" Wenling said.

  A crowd of college dudes walked past us. "Looking sexy, ladies!" one of the dudes called out. His friends laughed.

  "Thank you to you and your stupid shirt!" Wenling yelled back without even looking in his direction.

  His friends laughed. "You got burned by that old lady," one of them said as they walked away.

  Mom and Wenling had already moved onto their selfie-taking with Hannah.

  "You have to tag us so it shows up on our page," Mom said.

  "Are you posting this on Instagram or Facebook?" Wenling asked.

  "Both," Hannah said.

  Mom pulled out her phone so that she could accept the woman as a friend so she could be tagged in the photo.

  "Mom," I said. "Did you have your cell phone in your pocket while you were in the dunk tank?"

  "We weren't going to get dunked," Mom said.

  "Mom that's a brand-new phone," I said.

  "It's fine," Mom said.

  "I actually think it's rigged not to drop," Wenling said.

  "I'm glad you guys didn't get dunked, but…" Hannah paused and hit the bullseye with her hand. The bench collapsed. The sound made Wenling yelp. Mom and Wenling laughed.

  "Okay," Mom said. "Tomorrow you hold our phones."

  "We're out of marshmallows, Mom. All the trays Al let us put in his kitchen are empty, too. Are there any more at The Lucky Dragon?"

  Mom shook her head no. "We need to make more tonight," Mom said.

  They took a few more photos. Wenling was distracted by something.

  "That man Al is running up to looks familiar," she said.

  Hannah turned. "That's my no-good husband, Wayne. You probably saw him when you all decided to bring us to town."

  "We need to talk about the contract," Al said to Wayne.

  Al saying that he wanted to talk about the contract sounded reasonable, but if you looked at Al's face, his posture, and the volume he spoke at, it came across as menacing.

  "A deal's a deal," Wayne said.

  It was unusual for someone to not be intimidated by Al. I'd always been a little afraid of him because of his temper.

  But something told me Wayne had a bad temper, too. Both he and Al had similar builds and made aggressive gestures when they talked. If it weren't for the fact that Al was full-on bald and Wayne wore his hair in a greasy combover, it might be difficult to tell the difference between the two of them from a distance.

  Austin joined the argument. "It says in his contract the money is for the employees, but it's going into your pocket."

  "What are you doing talking about contracts with the clients?" Wayne yelled.

  I don't know who shoved whom, but within a minute or so all three of them were pushing each other and swearing.

  A crowd gathered as the threesome started all-out brawling. Absorbed in watching the argument, I hadn't noticed that Hannah had gone over to join them.

  "You're always a crook," she yelled at her husband.

  "You stay out of this," Wayne yelled and shoved Hannah. She shoved him back so hard, he barreled into Austin and Al. The three of them fell onto the street, and started swinging at each other as they got up.

  The young woman from the cotton candy stand pushed through the crowd and rushed over to the men.

  "Stop it! Stop it!" she screeched. She was tall with thin, bird-like limbs. The idea that she could break up a fight between Al and Wayne seemed misguided at best. I feared for her safety.

  But as she stepped into the fight the men halted their punches out of fear that they would hurt her.

  "Baby doll," Wayne said, his voice having a similar accent to his wife's, "you've got to step aside."

  "You all need to calm down," she said. Although I was impressed with her breaking up the fight, there was something about her behavior that didn't exude intelligence.

  "Baby doll," Wayne said.

  "Stop calling her that. We'll get sued for sexual harassment and be even more broke," Hannah said.

  "I'll be glad to be broke. Then at least you'll be broke with me instead of trying to take all I got in a divorce," Wayne yelled at his wife.

  Wenling elbowed me and smiled. "It's getting good," she said.

  Mom nodded. "It's like those reality show fights, except everyone's kind of poor," Mom said.

  "The man coming up looks like he has money," Wenling said.

  A man in a suit, who looked entirely overdressed for a fair, approached the arguing group.

  Wayne quieted and went over to talk to him. Al stepped forward to get involved in their conversation, but the well-dressed man held up his hand, and Al stopped short.

  "Blake says we'll talk about this later," Wayne said as he turned to leave with the man called Blake.

  "No, we're going to renegotiate that contract first thing in the morning or else," Al shouted after him.

  Okay, you've probably just guessed what's going to happen. So I'll get right to it.

  The next day I found Wayne Boggs dead in Al's office of the Fletcher Diner.

  And within hours of me finding the body, the mayor of our town was taken away in the back of a police car.

  But in order to get a better understanding of why or why not Al was the killer, we need to go back in time a little bit. If this were a movie, the soundtrack for flashback music would go here…

  Meatloaf and Misgivings

  It was five in the morning. I told my boyfriend to stop the car a few houses early. Things had been touch and go for DC and me at the start of our relationship, but as of the last few months it was a lot more touching, if you know what I mean.

  "It's still dark out," DC said.

  "I can get out here and walk the rest of the way."

  Sure, I was a divorced woman who'd lived with a man for ten years, but now I lived with my mother, and this coming-home-late thing felt weird.

  DC shook his head and parallel parked the car in front of our neighbor's house.

  "I'll walk you to your door."

 
"Nothing's going to happen. Fletcher Canyon is a safe town," I said.

  "It is, but you attract trouble." He gave me a peck on the cheek, got out of the car, and came around to open my door.

  I couldn't argue with DC about attracting trouble. Since I'd moved back to Fletcher Canyon, Mom and I had been involved in quite a number of mysteries. Besides, I could use one more kiss goodnight.

  The two of us walked down my street holding hands. I remember having a crush on a boy in elementary school. I'd walk home wishing he would walk with me, but it never happened. I'd never had much luck with men. Well, until now.

  DC Cooper was quite a catch, and I enjoyed the novel idea that the man I was with thought I was quite a catch too.

  "You've got the cutest nose," he said, staring at me.

  To be honest, my nose was on the small side, and my nostrils were a little wider than I would've liked. But DC seemed to do this strange thing where he stared at me and then gave me very specific compliments on parts of me that I'd never found at all worthy of compliments. He stared so intently that it almost made me self-conscious. Except somehow he seemed to always like what he saw, which was more than I could say for myself.

  "We have to walk more quietly now," I said as we neared the house.

  "How much quieter can I walk?"

  "You walk and talk really loud," I whispered, hoping he'd mirror my soft voice.

  DC laughed and shook his head. "I don't even know what to say to that."

  I knew I was being ridiculous, but I didn't want Mom to wake up and hear me.

  "You're so…" I struggled to find the words. "Big energy," I said. "You take such fast steps and they hit the ground so hard that it's very loud."

  "Big energy?" DC said pulling me closer with a raise of his eyebrow. I knew he was joking, but my heart sped up anyway.

  Everything about DC Cooper was intense, and meanwhile, I was just tense.

  He gave me a knee-weakening kiss. He had an old-school style masculine roughness about him and had a cleft in his chin with an angular jaw to match.