Sam slumped against the side of her house.
“I was wrong, Tazzy. He didn’t suspect me … he suspected Agnes,” she bemoaned under her breath. Momentarily thrown by being mistaken, she slipped back into the house, closing the humiliation of being wrong out in the cold.
CHAPTER 29
“Morning,” Lyddie greeted. Sitting down, she picked up one of the pamphlets strewn over the top of the corner table. “What are these?” she asked Sam as she picked up one.
“I got them on my way back from chatting it up with Detective Death. Such a non-enjoyable experience that I wish I could brain bleach it out of my memory. Is that where you’re coming from?” she added.
“Yup,” the girl in a cropped circle skirt replied. “Gave my statement just like he asked.”
“Did you include the part where Mr. Cuddles saved my life?”
“Couldn’t include all of it, but I gave The Devil his due. I didn’t witness the initial leaping attack where he pounced like a mountain lion. But I did mention the clawing and biting while on Connors’ shoulders—and doing everything he could to take him down.”
“And did NoBo give you a hard time about it?”
“Not that I noticed,” Lyddie responded, adding some of her personal sweetener to her latte. “Is that what he did to you? Try to dissuade you from praising your attack cat protecting you in disarming your foe?”
“Absolutely, he did! Thinks dogs are the only creatures that would engage in heroics to save the life of their master. Then there’s his finding out my theory was right and his was wrong. He’s not taking it well, but then Nobody is a bigger jerk than NoBo. Did I get the context right?”
“You did. But he is cute. If you look past all the negatives, including being a misogynist and know-it-all-type megalomaniac slob of a guy, you have that sexy face and body to rub against.”
“Like what you do with Bailey? No thanks! I refuse to put blinders on to make someone appealing. It’s all or nothing with me,” Sam answered with a huff.
“Nothing …” Lyddie murmured in a singsong manner.
Talk about her ex-acquaintance ticking her off.
Sam’s arms folded over her chest. It was her signal that her viewpoint was unlikely to change—not even with the teasing.
But that had never been a deterrent to someone as stubborn as Lyddie.
“Bailey has changed, Sam. He’s as good as gold and is looking for a job. It’s not his fault that—”
“There are none out there that he’s qualified for—not even with him being a genius and all.”
“Nope. Not unless you need a shift manager.”
Sam’s eyelids half-closed as she drilled holes into Lyddie’s baby blues. She was so pushing it right now. Despite her best efforts, would there be murder number two in her nice clean café?
“That would be a ‘no’, thank you very much,” Sam quipped.
“Fine!” Lyddie snorted.
“Fine!” Sam shot back.
“Fine, fine!”
“Fine, fine, fine!”
The blaze of hatred that sprang up in her ex-acquaintance’s eyes said it all.
Sam had won that round.
The blonde bombshell picked up one of Sam’s brochures and waved it in Sam’s face.
“You didn’t say why these are here? You explained where you got them, but not why you’re reading up on vans and SUVs?”
Sam snatched it out of the manicured hand with the sparkly glitter polish and laid it flat on the table where it belonged.
“I’m thinking of trading in my car for one … turn it into a catering truck. This way, I could advertise while driving around.”
Lyddie paused, inhaling a huge gulp of the morning latte through the striped straw.
“That’s not a bad idea, Sam. It would be great promotion. Think you might have picked something up from working with Bliss.”
“I think you’re right.”
It was the first smile exchanged since the beginning of the awkward conversation. Both girls relaxed, pushing past grievances to the wayside. Sam reached over and took her ex-acquaintance’s hand.
“Thanks for staying with me last night, Lyddie. Don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come upstairs with that frying pan.”
“P-shaw! You would have thought of something! Besides, your bestie Taz was handling things. I’ll never badmouth that kitty again. I don’t care how much he growls at me, he loves you so much, Sam, and I can respect that.”
The sumptuous blonde knew how to get to her heart.
“Thanks for that … and about ‘acquaintance’ … you were a friend, Lyddie—not an acquaintance … a very, very best friend.”
She was softening, but then, friendship was like that.
It could be warm and fuzzy and a soft place to fall … but there were those icy patches.
Ice?
Sam’s thoughts turned on a dime balanced on a pair of stellar Russian pectorals. The metaphor described the image carried in her mind.
“Did you happen to notice Mr. Warm Siberian Nights?” Sam asked. “Now that part of the team is the dreamy one—and no blinders needed. He’s sweet, polite, well-mannered, intelligent—”
And, more importantly, he hadn’t suspected Sam of conking Doris over the head. Sam’s Double Virgo side refused to give in to the concept of people having flaws—and the Neanderthal had plenty, but Mr. Warm Siberian Nights?
None noted thus far.
“True, true, true, true, but there’s something about NoBo.”
“My momma taught me to stay away from things that can’t be cured with penicillin.”
Lyddie snickered.
God, how Sam loved that evil laugh!
“Sam! Sam! I just heard!”
Sam’s mother Grace’s shout across the crowded café interrupted the conversation. The intrepid matriarch made her way through the throng of customers.
Business was sure picking up.
Sam stood, making herself receptive to her mom’s smothering hug.
It felt so good.
“Are you all right, baby? Are you hurt? Let me have a look at you,” she said as she drew back and gave a once over to the activewear-clad body. Sam fit in a three-mile run before jogging on over to the precinct and rattling swords with NoBo.
“Yes, Mom, I’m fine, really,” she replied, letting her mother sit. “It’s a gorgeous day, there are paying customers and not just crickets, and I’m sitting talking to a friend. Can’t get better than that.”
Lyddie’s ears perked up as she broke into another award-winning smile.
“Friend,” she mouthed.
Sam nodded.
The display of white teeth momentarily blinded the coffee shop owner, but it was all good.
“I read you were there, Lyddie,” Grace responded as Sam pulled over a chair that had just been vacated and perched on it.
“I was. I thought maybe your daughter might need protection, but Taz handled things brilliantly.”
“Then it’s true? Your cat actually attacked Rudy Connors?” the eternally chic woman asked her daughter. “I was wondering why they published his pic on the front page. It was the one taken by that pet photographer and bigger than yours, dear.”
“He deserved the shout out. All the hype is true. Taz is a hero,” Lyddie answered for the shop owner.
“I can’t believe it,” Grace replied, shaking her head. “I guess your taking in that feral cat wasn’t a mistake after all.” The wobble playing havoc with her voice stopped. The mother threw back her shoulders, regaining her composure now that she was assured her daughter’s cat wasn’t the rabid murderer bent on killing Sam in her sleep. “You were right about him, honey. I will always trust your instincts from now on—especially about pets.”
“And friends,” Lyddie added with a wink. “She does the most awesome job choosing friends, don’t you think?”
Lyddie’s eyes glistened as she brushed back a tear.
Grace leaned in, her eye
s darting between the two girls.
“Yes, she does. And I’m glad someone was there for her, but I’m confused about one or two things.”
“You’ve come to the right place, Mom. Lyddie and I will tell you all you need to know,” Sam responded, “Because we got it right and the police got it wrong.”
Double Virgos had a hard time reining it in.
She launched into the furtive beginnings of her investigation and ended with the culmination of Connors being carried out on a stretcher. Grace listened intently while nursing her mocha espresso. Lyddie interjected enough to prove she was as obnoxious as ever—and to give her side of things. For some reason, the habitual self-congratulatory tone didn’t bother Sam one bit. It could be because the crowd in the coffee shop was swelling, or because she’d never forget the look on Detective Death’s face this morning. It was when he’d admitted he’d been bested. But maybe there was a third reason.
It could be she was at peace.
She wrapped her mind around that one as she sipped the double cinnamon latte and the hot baked apple tarte that Clementine did right. Life was good again, and for that she was grateful.
As her mother gasped over the cleverness and cunning the two girls exhibited in tracking down the crafty killer, Sam’s attention was drawn to the baristas hustling to keep up with the demand. Just a few days ago, Sam was considering laying off Katy and Matt, but now? Now it was time to hire additional help for Mountain Valley’s newest enterprise.
It was an achievement, but not the biggest. The best one was sitting across the table from Sam.
She and Lyddie were best friends again—and nothing topped that.
Dear Reader:
Thank you for reading HAMMERED.
I do hope you enjoyed the adventures of Samantha Powell and her beloved cat Taz.
If you did, please leave a review to let others know what you thought. Readers rely on other reader’s opinions, so it’s what you think that counts.
For your convenience, here is a link to HAMMERED on Amazon:
http://bit.ly/HAMMEREDREVIEW
I thank you in advance.
Ruth Bainbridge
Please check out Ruth Bainbridge’s other titles:
THE CURT SAVAGE MYSTERIES: A Four-Part Series
SAVAGE SUMMER (Part One)
SAVAGE FALL (Part Two)
SAVAGE WINTER (Part Three)
SAVAGE SPRING (Part Four)
THE DEADSPEAK MYSTERIES
DEADSPEAK: Book One
DEADSPEAK: Book Two
THE NICK CROSS MYSTERIES
ONLY ONE WILL FALL: Book One
A DAUGHTER IS A DAUGHTER: Book Two
STANDALONE THRILLER
CREEPZ
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born in the idyllic, sleepy town of Ithaca, NY, Ruth Bainbridge has been a lover of mysteries for her entire life.
Ever since a child, she has consumed detective stories at regular intervals, becoming enamored with all the superstars of crime. She loved nothing more than to match wits with the likes of Hercule Poirot, Miss Marple, Thomas Pitt, Lord Peter Wimsey, Richard Jury, and Edward X Delaney, becoming inspired by their brilliance. Hoping to emulate her writing idol’s achievements in dreaming up such characters, she started composing her own short stories.
However, life interfered with her plans of becoming the next hopeful to try a life of crime—on paper at least. Devoting herself to her marriage and the raising of four children, the empty nest syndrome gave her the impetus to return to her first love—murder.
A DAUGHTER IS A DAUGHTER FOR THE REST OF THEIR LIVES is Ms. Bainbridge’s tenth published book. The second in the NICK CROSS MYSTERIES, her other titles include: THE CURT SAVAGE MYSTERIES (a four-part series comprised of: SAVAGE SUMMER, SAVAGE FALL, SAVAGE WINTER, and SAVAGE SPRING, DEADSPEAK 1 and 2, and CREEPZ a standalone mystery/thriller.
Please join Ms. Bainbridge’s Newsletter to keep up the exciting things she has in store! Subscribe now and receive a free copy of SAVAGE SUMMER as a thank you!
Ruth Bainbridge Website
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