True Grit Spirit: A Maddie Graves and Hannah Hickok Mystery

by Lily Harper Hart

  True Grit Spirit

  A Maddie Graves and Hannah Hickok Mystery

  Lily Harper Hart

  HarperHart Publications

  Copyright © 2020 by Lily Harper Hart

  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.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. One

  2. Two

  3. Three

  4. Four

  5. Five

  6. Six

  7. Seven

  8. Eight

  9. Nine

  10. Ten

  11. Eleven

  12. Twelve

  13. Thirteen

  14. Fourteen

  15. Fifteen

  16. Sixteen

  17. Seventeen

  18. Eighteen

  19. Nineteen

  Mailing List

  About the Author

  Books by Lily Harper Hart

  Books by Amanda M. Lee

  1

  One

  “Your knight in shining armor has arrived.”

  Nick Winters, his arms laden with a multitude of things, used his hip to prop open the front door of the home he shared with his wife Maddie and wiggled to get through the narrow opening. He had grocery totes draped over his arms and a fresh malt from the Blackstone Bay ice cream shop clutched in one hand. His gaze immediately went to the window seat in the living room, to where he’d left his beloved wife an hour before.

  She was still there. Maddie Graves-Winters, her blond hair fanning out on a pillow, rested on her side and stared into nothing. She was unnaturally pale, and Nick hated the fragility etched across her face.

  “Hi, love.” His voice was soft as he dropped the grocery bags and sat next to her. His hand automatically went to her forehead to check for fever. He wasn’t a doctor — rather a police detective by trade — but his concern was very real. “Are you still feeling sick?”

  Because she was who she was, Maddie put on a brave face. “I’m fine, Nicky,” she reassured him as she attempted to prop herself up and pretend everything was okay. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

  “I’m pretty sure that worry comes with the territory,” he countered, frowning. She was never sick. She had one of those immune systems that seemed to fight off almost anything. Even when he came down with the flu over the winter months, she soldiered through, taking care of him while making sure her grandmother — who also lived with them — got a flu shot and steered clear. Since Maude was in her eighties, Maddie hovered over her like a mother hen. It was sort of cute ... but something to whimsically think about at a later time.

  “I got your favorite malt,” Nick offered, handing over the cup in his hand. “Butterscotch, not chocolate.”

  Maddie smiled. “Thank you.” She took the malt and immediately brought the straw to her lips. She knew if she didn’t drink that Nick would start making ridiculous suggestions, and that was the last thing she wanted.

  He watched her for a beat to see if she would get sick again. When she rested her head against the pillows, he decided that crowding her was not the way to make this situation better. “Maybe I should take you to emergency care.” He didn’t realize he was going to say the words — he’d been thinking them, of course — until they’d already escaped his mouth.

  Maddie immediately started shaking her head. “That’s really not necessary. It’s just some strange bug I picked up somewhere.”

  Nick remained unconvinced. “You don’t get sick, Mad. Like ... ever.”

  “I get sick. Don’t be ridiculous.” She wrapped her fingers around his wrist and shot him a reassuring smile. “You can’t get worked up about this. If you’re going to freak out over every little sniffle and upset stomach, then we’re going to have a really long and annoying happily ever after.”

  He smirked but the worry remained. “You could get checked for me,” he suggested. “You know ... like a wedding gift.”

  She shot him a quelling look. “We’ve been married for three months.”

  “And we’re still well inside the window where gifts are appropriate.”

  “I thought I gave you a gift every moment we were together.” She was going for levity and was gratified at the way his expression softened.

  “You’re my best gift,” he reassured her, leaning forward to press his lips to her forehead. She didn’t feel warm. He figured that was a good thing. That didn’t keep him from getting twisted up over her potential sickness. “That’s why I want to keep you forever.”

  Before Maddie could respond, someone else joined the fray. Maude Graves, Maddie’s grandmother, appeared in the doorway ... and proceeded to make a series of exaggerated vomiting motions that would’ve been funny under different circumstances.

  “I see you two are still bucking for schmaltziest couple alive,” she drawled, clutching her oversized bag tighter to her side. “I keep thinking you guys will get over it eventually. I guess not, huh?”

  “Not ever,” Nick agreed, his eyes busy as they roamed Maude’s outfit. She was dressed in all black, including her purse and shoes, and whatever she had in her bag created odd bulges in the pleather. She clearly had it stuffed to the brim. With what was the question. “Where are you going?”

  “It’s good to know some things will never change,” Maude said dryly.

  Nick waited for her to respond to the question. When she didn’t, he pinned her with his patented “you’re not leaving this house until I say it’s okay” look. “Where are you going?”

  “Nunya,” Maude replied calmly, her eyes landing on Maddie. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “She’s sick,” Nick replied. “And what do you mean ‘nunya’?”

  “As in nunya business.” Maude moved closer to Maddie, but not close enough so that they shared oxygen. “You don’t get sick, Maddie girl. What’s going on?”

  Maddie tried to hold back a sigh ... and failed. Her grandmother looked even more concerned than her husband, if that was even possible. “I’m fine, Granny. It’s just some weird stomach thing. Nick got me a malt. I’m sure I’ll be back on my feet in no time.”

  “Maybe you should take her to the health center,” Maude suggested, completely ignoring Maddie’s response and focusing on Nick. “She doesn’t get sick.”

  “Oh, geez.” Maddie rubbed her forehead and made a disgusted face. “I hate to break it to the two of you, but people get weird stomach things that pop up out of nowhere and then disappear just as fast. It’s not as if I’m dying.”

  A ripple of distress moved across Nick’s face. “Can you please not say things like that? You know how I feel when you make cracks about dying.”

  “It wasn’t really a crack.” Maddie held Nick’s gaze for an extended beat and then heaved out a sigh. “You guys are being ridiculous. Do you know how many times I’ve taken care of you when you’ve been sick? Do you hear me making suggestions to take you to the hospital for every sniffle?”

  “Yes,” Nick and Maude answered in unison.

  “Oh, I do not.” Maddie shifted to get more comfortable and took another sip of her malt. “You need to let it go. I bet I’m perfectly fine when I wake up tomorrow morning.”

  Sensing an opening, Nick seized on it. “If you’re still sick then, will you agree to go to the health center with me?”

  Maddie had no intention of going to the health center regardless, but si
nce she honestly believed it wouldn’t be an issue, she nodded. “Sure. Does that mean you’ll give me at least a little bit of a break right now?”

  “No.” Nick’s smile was wolfish. “I plan on waiting on you hand and foot for the entire night. What? As you said, you take care of Maude and me all the time when we’re sick. It’s my turn.”

  “Oh, geez.” Maddie forced her attention to Maude and frowned when she finally absorbed what her grandmother was wearing. “What are you up to?”

  Maude made a slashing motion behind Nick’s back at the question, quickly pretending she was studying her fingernails when Nick shifted to stare at her. “I have no idea to what you’re referring.”

  Nick’s sigh was heavy as he started rooting through the bags he’d dropped on the floor. “You’re not fooling anybody, Maude. I know darned well you have a Pink Ladies meeting tonight. I’m not an idiot.”

  The Pink Ladies were Maude’s social group. They claimed to play cards and donate their time to charity. In reality, they gambled their Social Security checks back and forth to one another and tippled bourbon most evenings. They also enjoyed helping Maude terrorize her archnemesis, Harriet Proctor. If Nick had to guess, that’s exactly what they had going tonight.

  “So what?” Maude wasn’t the type to admit wrongdoing unless she was backed into a corner. Even then, she was more than happy to lie her way out of trouble rather than acknowledge nefarious intentions. “We’re planning a fundraiser for the children’s hospital over in Traverse City. How is that a bad thing?”

  Nick wasn’t an idiot. Anyone who didn’t know Maude would see her as a sweet lady who had nothing but light and love on her mind and in her heart. He’d known her since he was a small child, since he took one look at Maddie in kindergarten and decided he wanted to make her a part of his life. Maude was nobody’s “sweet” grandmother. That being said, he enjoyed watching Maude terrorize Harriet. There was great joy to be found in the act because Harriet was an absolute nightmare of a human being.

  “No drinking and driving,” Nick warned, extending a finger. “Also, if you get arrested by one of the uniforms, there’s nothing I can do for you until tomorrow. I will not be checking my phone for messages this evening because I’m going to be taking care of Maddie. Whatever you have planned, you’re on your own.”

  Maude snorted. “Deal.” She extended her hand, shook Nick’s, and gave Maddie a heartfelt smile. “Listen to your bossy husband. Drink plenty of fluids. If you need to go to the medical center tomorrow, I’ll be around to force you.”

  “Thanks for that, Granny,” Maddie said dryly, shaking her head as Maude disappeared out the front door. “What do you think she had in that bag?”

  “I’m trying not to think about it,” Nick admitted. “At least right now I have plausible deniability.”

  “There is that,” Maddie agreed, watching curiously as he grabbed a stack of envelopes from one of the tote bags and rolled in next to her. “You should let me be on the edge in case I get sick again. That way I won’t puke all over you.”

  “I love you enough to put up with the puke.” Nick grinned at the way she wrinkled her nose. “It’s easier for me being on the end, Mad. I have longer legs.”

  Inherently, she knew that was true. That didn’t mean she wanted to puke on her husband. “I guess I’ll try to refrain from getting sick.”

  “That would be great.” He softly stroked her hair as she settled her head on his shoulder. “Who do you know in Casper Creek, Kentucky?”

  The question caught Maddie off guard. “Nobody, at least not that I’m aware of. Why?”

  “Because someone there sent you a letter.” Nick ripped open the envelope and pulled out a small stack of information, including a brochure and what looked to be an invitation. He handed the brochure to his wife and focused on the invitation.

  “You know, in some cultures — including this one — opening someone else’s mail is a federal offense,” Maddie noted dryly.

  “Not when the person who the letter is addressed to is sick and refuses to go to the medical center,” Nick countered, his lips curving. “I don’t make the rules, but I do have to follow them.”

  “Or make them up,” Maddie grumbled under her breath. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense. What does it say?”

  “It’s a psychic event.”

  Maddie lifted her chin, surprised. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s a psychic event,” he repeated. “It’s a bunch of psychics and mediums from all over the world. They’re having an event in this Casper Creek, at a town that’s based on the Old West and includes interactive scenes and stuff.”

  Maddie had no idea what to make of it. “But ... how did they get my name?”

  “Probably because you’re now listed in the White Pages as a psychic for hire,” Nick pointed out. “You did take out that ad in the local newspaper. I thought you were done hiding from what you can do and were ready to just be you.”

  Maddie turned sheepish. “I am. It’s just ... I’m still getting used to it.” Her expression was so adorable Nick felt that sudden rush of love he so often experienced when she was in close proximity. “I’m not ashamed or anything,” she added hurriedly. “It’s just ... new.”

  “It’s okay, love,” he reassured her. “I’m just curious.” He flicked his eyes back to the invitation. “How do you feel about going?”

  That was a complicated question and Maddie wasn’t sure how to answer. “I don’t know. When is it?”

  “Three weeks.”

  Maddie’s eyebrows hopped. “That’s not much notice.”

  “It’s not,” Nick agreed. “I have a mountain of vacation time saved up, though, and you could use a break. That is if you’re over whatever plague this is messing with you.”

  Maddie couldn’t hide her surprise. “You want to go?”

  He shrugged, noncommittal. “I don’t know. I don’t think there’s a reason not to go. Honestly, this event doesn’t look overly large, fifty people or so. It might be a good way for you to get your feet wet in the psychic world without being overwhelmed.”

  “You’re not just saying that because you like the idea of an Old West town, are you?”

  Nick smirked. “I would be lying if I said that didn’t intrigue me. Look here. They have an actual functioning saloon and a brothel.”

  Maddie pinched his side. “Why do you care about a brothel?”

  He squirmed and chuckled. “Strictly for educational purposes, Mad. Trust me. You’re all I need on that front.”

  Maddie laughed and then turned back to the invitation, her mouth hardening as reality set in. “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s up to you. It’s intriguing, though.”

  “Maybe ... .” She hesitated and then barreled forward. “Maybe I should sleep on it tonight. When I feel better tomorrow, I’ll do a little research.”

  “That sounds like a plan to me.” He scooched down and wrapped the blanket tightly around her back. “If you don’t feel better tomorrow, you really are going to the medical center.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Yeah, we will.”

  HANNAH HICKOK SIPPED HER ICED TEA and stared at a replica of the same invitation Maddie Graves received at her Michigan home. Now that everything had been sent — and there was no turning back — she found her nerves were starting to get a foothold.

  “Hello, baby.” Cooper Wyatt, head of security for Casper Creek, breezed into the saloon and dropped a kiss on top of his girlfriend’s head. He’d spent the better part of his day running security checks on potential new employees and was surprisingly upbeat. One look at Hannah’s conflicted features had him reconsidering, though. “What’s wrong?”

  “What?” Hannah made a face as she shook her head, forcing her eyes up. “Did you say something?”

  “I feel so loved,” Cooper drawled, shaking his head. “Where is your head at?”

  “I’m sorry.” Hannah was instantly contrite. “I didn’t mean to ig
nore you. I was just ... .” She held up the invitation for him to peruse. “I’m starting to regret this. I know we agreed it was a good idea but ... what if something happens? What if one of these psychics ends up dead on our watch? What if another monster attacks?”

  Cooper was getting used to Hannah’s periodic meltdowns about the magical happenings at Casper Creek. She was a witch, although she didn’t know it until she arrived at the property her grandmother left her in her will months before, and her entire worldview had changed in a short amount of time. In general, she took all the changes in stride. There were occasions, though, where she suddenly freaked out for no apparent reason. It appeared they were currently mired in one of those instances.

  “Let me see it.” Cooper took the invitation from her and read it to buy himself time. He wasn’t sure what she needed to hear to feel better about the psychic convention that would be descending on the town in roughly three weeks’ time. When the notion was initially broached, she’d been reticent. Cooper had been gung-ho, though. They needed good press after an unfortunate incident involving a dead tourist shut down the town for several days. To him, the psychic event was exactly what they needed.

  Hannah obviously thought otherwise.

  “It seems pretty straightforward to me,” he noted after a beat, lifting his eyes. “What are you worried about?”

  “What do you think?” Hannah threw her hands in the air and started tapping her foot on the hardwood floor. “Monsters attack when we don’t have psychics around for them to feed on. What are the odds we’re going to get through this without something weird happening?”

  It was a fair question, Cooper silently acknowledged. Since Hannah had landed in Casper Creek months before, a multitude of monsters — some disguised as bartenders — had attacked. It must’ve seemed relentless to her. Most of the time she was calm when thinking about it. Out of nowhere, though, her doubts caught up with her. He hated to see it.