* * *
As soon as we walked into the kitchen, we split up the sandwiches and pound cake on individual plates while Brady brewed a pot of coffee. I figured we also couldn’t have too much hot chocolate and whipped cream on such a cold night, so I heated up some milk, then melted some dark chocolate into it, stirring until it was perfectly combined.
We all settled down at the big oak table and finally had those sandwiches. I scraped the tuna salad off of its whole-wheat bread—making sure there was no onion—then gave it to Trouble on a special little plate. Andy and Trouble went to her room to make sure Captain Kidd didn’t feel abandoned. The rest of us rehashed the horrifying possibility of a serial killer who was focusing on country artists. Webster excused himself and we continued brainstorming about Dave’s killer and if it was the same person who’d tampered with Brady’s inhaler.
“Dave had a lot of enemies, but we have to narrow it down to those who might have a grudge or something to gain from killing both Dave and Brady.” I paused before adding, “This really has got to be a weird conversation for you, Brady.”
“It is, but I have the biggest stake in finding the right suspect. I don’t want to be a prisoner in my own house. I trust the police, but they don’t know these people the way we do. Maybe we can come up with the answer—at least, I hope we can—and we need to do it fast.”
I got up and poured more coffee and hot chocolate for everybody. If we were going to stay up and talk, we were going to require extra caffeine. Trouble came up to me, softly meowing and circling around my legs until I followed him. He moved quietly to the study doorway. It was open just a crack, and I could hear the murmur of Webster’s voice on the phone. Even though he was on our list, I’d considered him a long shot, especially in light of the headband Trouble had found, but his furtive conversation was giving me second thoughts.
“I’ll get the money and even include all the interest any day now. Please don’t go to the media or to Brady about this,” Webster begged. “I’m of more use to you now than I would be if...Hello? Hello?” He lowered the phone and nervously licked his lips, staring at his phone’s screen as if willing it to reconnect.
It didn’t sound like the phone would be all that would be dead if the money stayed out of Webster’s clammy reach. But still, he made a good point for his innocence. No life insurance policy would pay off within just a few days, so he must have had another plan to pay off his gambling debts that didn’t include either Brady’s or Dave’s death.
Webster didn’t have any love lost for Dave, though, since—at the last possible minute—Dave had cancelled his appearances on a planned “Stars at Night (Bigger in Texas)” tour with Brady, George Strait, and Willie Nelson that would have blown the roof off every major venue in Texas. The timing had scotched the entire tour and cost Webster his sole opportunity to expand from artist management to an even larger role in the industry.
I was lost in thought as I walked back down the hallway, then I noticed it suddenly seemed way too quiet in the kitchen and living room. I almost tripped over Trouble, who was standing as still as a statue except for his twitching ears. I was glad I was wearing Sketchers since they didn’t make any noise on the hardwood floor.
I caught a reflection of the living room in the hall mirror, and was confused to see Superfan Sylvia standing in front of Brady. She gestured angrily, and my mouth went dry as I saw the glint of metal in her right hand. With my heart plummeting to my stomach, I realized she was brandishing a gun around.
I was so thankful I’d talked Andy into going to her room to check on Captain Kidd and then take her bath. I prayed hard that she stayed in her suite. I could still hear the water running in her tub and hoped she would take a long soak and stay there until we could neutralize Sylvia. I held my breath, scared I’d make a noise that would make it worse.
Steve didn’t move, but I could tell he was deliberately not looking in my direction. I could feel him willing me to stay out of the living room. Webster was walking toward me, and I motioned to him to stay still.
Sylvia sounded hysterical. “I’ve done everything I can to prove how devoted I am to you, Brady. But you never had time for me. I overheard Dave whispering to somebody about inhalers while I was waiting in the hall for you to come out of your dressing room at the Opry a few days ago. He never even noticed me standing there. Then I saw him slip into your room after you went onstage. It looked like he was trying to hide something in his hand, then he had his hand in his pocket when he came out. When I heard you almost died because somebody had tampered with your inhaler, I realized he’d traded yours for the poisoned one—and that I had to stop him before he really did kill you. I had just arrived at The Hip Joint when he walked out. It was the perfect chance to save you. I thought you’d at least appreciate it, but you can’t even wish me a happy Valentine’s Day!”
Brady’s voice was soothing. “Sylvia, I had no idea. I thought you just liked my music. For all I knew, you were in love with Dave. Why don’t you have some hot chocolate and a sandwich with us and we can talk this over?”
“Some hot chocolate and a sandwich?! I just told you I’d killed the man who tried to murder you—with this very gun—and that’s all you can offer me? How about your love? How about saying you’d protect me like I protected you? Because you don’t care at all about me and you never have. I can’t believe all the time and money I spent on you!” She raved hysterically, practically foaming at the mouth, and wildly waved her gun.
I heard the water shut off in Andy’s bathroom. I saw the tic at the corner of Brady’s eyes and knew he heard it, too. Trouble’s ears pricked toward the sound.
Everything looked like it was in slow motion. Sylvia took a step forward as Brady and Steve jumped up to flank her. Trouble shot between her feet, wrapping his paws around one ankle and digging in with his claws. She stumbled and fell, dropping the gun. It skittered away, and the two men pinned her to the floor. Webster called 911, and I ran down the hall to intercept Andy before she left her room. She had heard the sound of the scuffle, and I caught her just before she made it down the hallway.
“Honey, let’s go back in your room and I’ll tell you what’s been going on. We need to dream up a really great treat for Trouble. Your dad’s gonna be okay, thanks to our little hero!”
* * *
The next evening, Andy and I were admiring all the valentines she had gotten at school. When the phone rang, she picked it up there in the family room, and started giggling. “Okay, I’ll tell her. Hey, Julia, Steve needs to talk to you!”
“Hi, Steve. Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s today, isn’t it? I was just thinking you might like to go have some pizza with me, if you’ve finished talking to all those journalists for the day.”
I sighed. At least he wasn’t boycotting seeing me entirely tonight, even if it didn’t sound like it was gonna be a very special celebration. “Sure. Do you want me to meet you or would you rather pick me up here?”
“I’ll be there in about 15 minutes to get you. We can run by your place real fast to feed Belle and Trouble before we head out for supper.”
He rang the doorbell right on time, and I was surprised to see him in a charcoal gray suit and tie. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll get pizza sauce on your suit?”
“I figured you might be dressed up more than usual because of all the press today, so I didn’t want to embarrass you, even at a pizza place.”
When we got to my place, he opened my door for me. I was stunned to see fairy lights and flameless candles all over the room, with my dining table set with linen, sterling silver, crystal, and vases full of my favorite lilacs and white roses. The fabulous odors of eggplant parmigiana and freshly-baked chocolate fudge cake filled the air. The biggest valentine I’d ever seen was propped up on my couch, and an icy bottle of champagne sat in a silver bucket.
“When did you do this?” I sputtered. “I thought you didn’t believe in celebrating Valentine’s Day!”
>
“I didn’t until I fell in love with you. You’re a hard woman to surprise, so I had to work really hard at suppressing my natural romanticism,” he grinned. “And Andy kept you at her house until I was ready with everything here. I told her I couldn’t have carried it off without her help. I want to make every day with you as special as our first Valentine’s Day together.”
“You’re the only valentine I’ll ever want,” I whispered, as he pulled me in for the longest, most passionate kiss of my life. It’s the stuff songs are written about.
* * *
Belle and I had our own valentine’s supper with shrimp and catfish filets served personally by Steve. It’ll only be a couple more days until my mom comes to take me home to Alabama, but I intend to enjoy every minute of my visit, especially my time with Belle. Aunt Julia named her right—my amour really is very beautiful. And my recording session with Brady at House of Blues is set for tomorrow. I’m sure the Country Music Association will ask us to perform together on the next awards show, so I’d better start planning my attire. Nashville hasn’t seen the last of Trouble!
* * *
* * *
About the Author
A Louisiana native who now lives in Nashville, Michelle Broussard Honick previously worked for country entertainers Ronnie Milsap and Tammy Wynette. A journalism graduate of Louisiana State University and student at its first-ever coed summer school program in London, she has written for numerous national music publications and nine produced mystery dinner theatres, as well as co-writing the book Ghosts, Gangsters, & Gamblers of Las Vegas. Michelle has two rescue cats (the nearly twenty-year-old tortoiseshell calico Belle and the much younger black cat Brady, who inspired two names in this story), and she is thrilled to write in the Trouble series that’s spearheaded by her favorite writer, Carolyn Haines.
www.michellebroussardhonick.com
Tidbit From Trouble #5
As a world-renowned detective, I’ve had plenty of occasion to fly the friendly—and occasionally not-so-friendly—skies. For the most part, I don’t mind. I have a specially designed carrier and a hand-made service vest I look quite dapper in, if I do say so myself. Sometimes, however, delays can try the patience of even the most equanimous of creatures. When that happens, I remind myself that what seems like an annoyance is often a sign that someone nearby is in need of my crime-solving skills. Take, for example, this episode, when, returning home after a brief stay with Tammy’s cousin and childhood companion, I found myself investigating a case with international implications.
Engine Trouble
By Fran Driscoll Roberts
“Now do you understand why I’ve always hated Valentine’s Day?” Cami said as she snuggled closer to her husband. It wasn’t easy with the console between them, and the cold was quickly frosting the windshield with their breath. In fact, the car had become downright chilly, but Cami refused to budge until absolutely necessary. “Bad things always happen on February 14th, and tomorrow will be no different.”
Levi ran his thick fingers through his short black hair. “The timing is bad, I admit. But it will make me a better swimmer, and there’s the rank and pay increase.”
“It’s silly to have a diver training all the way in California when you’re stationed in Milwaukee. You need to train in the cold water where you work.”
“Thanks, I think. You ever rescued somebody in Lake Michigan in February? Those suits only do so much, you know.” Levi gave her a half-hearted smile. “Cheer up. Things may look better tomorrow. I promise to call you every chance I get.” His dark brown eyes bored into hers, and Cami blinked away tears. It had taken her thirty-one years to find this guy, and now they were going to be separated almost as soon as they had been joined.
Levi kissed her lips gently. “In this storm, I’ll be lucky to get back to the station in time. Are we going to stay in the car smooching all day, or are we gonna get you to your plane?”
“I vote for more kisses.”
From the back seat, a yowl let them know that Trouble was none too happy with his frosty abode.
Cami reached back, scooped up the midnight black cat and pulled him tightly to her. “I know you’re not used to the cold, Trouble, but we’ll have you home in a few hours. It’s seventy degrees in Wetumpka, and Tammy Lynn has a smoked salmon waiting for you. This last-minute stuff is for the birds, especially after only three weeks of marriage.” Her voice broke as she said it.
The cat put his paw on her shoulder as if he wanted to comfort the girl, but he also meowed as if to say, “Move it.” His eyes flashed green fire.
“Okay, Master. We’re moving,” Cami said. She picked up Trouble and put him back into the special compartment in her oversized purse. He wore a “service animal” vest, and so far he had traveled all over America without having to ride below decks with the other pets. As if Trouble or anyone in the family would ever admit he was a mere animal.
Levi held her hand in his as they walked to the kiosk. He punched in the numbers and got her tickets while she wiped the tears from her eyes. He handed her a small box along with her boarding pass and luggage receipt.
“Don’t open it until tomorrow, and send me a kiss at exactly 7 a.m. I’ll be sending you kisses too. Happy Valentine’s Day, Red on the Head.” He pulled gently on her thick braid. “Those boots look great on you, by the way.”
“Nice try. But if you want me to have the first happy Valentine’s Day in my life, you’ll jump in the purse with Trouble.” The tears rolled down Cami’s freckled face, though she tried her best to stop them. She forced her lips into a tight smile. “I’ll set two alarms just to be sure I make it. You know, Tammy and I have a lot of catching up to do.”
“See, you’re making plans without me already. Sleep in. Text me when you wake up. I’ll find some great apps and send you e-gifts by the basketful.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it, Mister.” Cami leaned in and kissed her husband one last time. The next thirty days were going to be long and lonely, and she wished she could bottle him and carry him along with her.
“If I can get done early, I will. You’ll be the first to know, Lovey.”
That name brought a genuine smile to her face. She had met Levi at an extremely crowded Halloween party at The Grain Exchange Room. She and a bunch of friends had gone as the crew of Gilligan’s Island. She was Lovey Howell, and Levi had accidentally spilled beer on her great grandmother’s glove. He was in his Coast Guard uniform and she had asked what a clumsy guy like him was doing disgracing the military by dressing as a soldier. The discussion went downhill from there. Cami smiled as she remembered the color rising in his handsome face and the terse response from a man who was most certainly not dressed as a soldier. He was a Coastie. The real deal. He’d remarked that she wouldn’t know that because she was too busy gossiping with her friends at Java Jimmy’s, the coffee shop they both frequented on Friday mornings. She had stalked over to her fellow islanders, and after spending fifteen minutes fussing about the oaf who’d ruined Granny’s glove she started singing, “Stuck-up, the clumsy Coastie, couldn’t hold a beer and walk…” to the tune of “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.” Her friends joined in, and soon the Halloween party turned into a Christmas sing-along. She made sure to glare at him as they sang about the foul Mr. Grinch, and he met her gaze without batting an eyelash.
As the party went on, she kept sneaking peeks at him, trying without success to remember seeing him at Java Jimmy’s. Men in uniform scared her, and she usually steered clear of them. Plus, she was worthless before her morning coffee. But Levi made it hard for her to avoid him after that. He made a point to get to the shop just ahead of her and pay for her coffee order every day that week. He was gone before she could protest. After a couple of weeks, he’d tip his hat and say, “Goodbye, Lovey,” as she entered the shop.
“Goodbye, Stuck-up,” she’d answer.
What began as an unpleasant confrontation turned into friendship, and then one day she woke up and realized
that she couldn’t imagine her life without him. Lovey and Levi were an item. Her fear of uniforms faded back into her childhood where it belonged, and she suddenly found herself looking forward to getting up early in the morning.
Strangely enough, Levi fit into her life as if he’d always been there, and when he proposed on the following Christmas Eve surrounded by her friends and family, her ‘yes’ was loud and enthusiastic. His timing had been spot on until now. But the United States Coast Guard owned him for at least the next eight years, so she had to swallow her tears and say goodbye.
“See you soon, Stuck-up.” She snuck just one more kiss as she walked toward the lady who had her hand outstretched, waiting to check Cami’s identification. Time had run out.
* * *
It’s about time we got to the terminal. I thought we missed the flight altogether. This biped is a bundle of nerves that worries about worrying, and all I can say is her new husband better have the patience of a saint. Cami is every bit as beautiful as Tammy Lynn, except her hair is more strawberry blonde than red, but the chit has no self-confidence.
If it weren’t for my superior intellect, I would be a wreck. I have had it with Cami’s hand wringing, the bitter cold and gray snow, and if I can’t curl up with Tammy Lynn soon, I will walk to Alabama. At least we’ve actually boarded the plane now. I enjoy a good party with my family in Wisconsin, and the interesting felines I have encountered along the way, but it is time to get back to the sunny South.
The Trouble with Cupid Page 12