“Disks? I ain’t after no disks. And my name’s not Buddy; it’s Lance.”
Bunny pushed Skye aside, sloshing water as she moved. “Where’s Ruby?”
“Gimme the ring and the letters and I’ll tell you where the old broad is.” Lance sneered, attempting to look tough but failing. A man wearing a wet evening gown and a nylon stocking on his head loses a lot of his ability to appear dangerous.
Skye looked at Bunny and demanded, “What’s he talking about?”
Bunny pushed a sheaf of wet hair from her face, spraying everyone in her immediate vicinity like a lawn sprinkler. “I have no idea. Honest.”
“Forget it; he’s just stalling,” Charlie said to the women, and then hit the kidnapper on the side of the head with his open palm. “Where’s Ruby?”
Lance howled. “Police brutality!”
Simon smiled darkly. “Charlie’s not a cop. And if you don’t tell us where Ruby is, he’ll beat it out of you.”
Skye thought Simon was bluffing about Charlie’s inclination toward violence, but the kidnapper wasn’t sure. He eyed the big man, whose fists were clenched and lips were drawn back in a snarl.
“Enough of this.” Before Skye, Simon, or Charlie could react, Bunny grabbed Lance by his family jewels and twisted. “Tell me what you did with Ruby, or the next time you sing in the church choir, you’ll be a soprano.”
The man let out a shriek, then gasped as Bunny tightened her grasp. “Vacant factory . . . edge of town . . . office . . . but she might already be gone.” Bunny gasped, but did not release her grip on Lance’s privates. “What do you mean?”
“The guy who hired me was sending someone to pick up the old broad. I was supposed to stay behind and get the letters and ring.”
“She’d better still be there or you’re going to spend the rest of your life as a eunuch.” Bunny gave one more twist before letting go; then she wiped her hands on her dress and ordered, “Charlie, you and Sonny Boy stay here with Lance. Skye, get the car.”
Skye hesitated, meeting Simon’s eyes and asking, “Isn’t it time to call the police?”
Before he could answer, a female voice from the doorway said, “Did you all throw a party and forget to invite me?”
“How did you get here?” Lance squeaked, apparently still feeling the effect of Bunny’s interrogation methods. Ruby shot him a dirty look and snapped, “You better just shut up or I’ll scalp you. You made me miss the Marilyn Monroe look-alike contest.”
Lance sneered. “I’m such a better Marilyn than you anyway. You’re too fat to do Marilyn the right way.”
Ruby huffed. “I do the queen-size version, and I could have mopped the floor with you.”
Before he could retort, Bunny ran over and hugged her friend. “Ruby! You’re not dead.”
“The rumors of my death have been highly exaggerated.” Ruby pried herself away from Bunny’s soggy embrace. “Why are you soaking wet?”
Everyone began to explain at the same time. Finally, Skye managed to get the others to quiet down, and filled Ruby in on the evening’s activities. She concluded with, “What ring and letters is he talking about? I thought he was after the disks.”
“So did I, at first.” Ruby pulled out a chair and sat down. “But it turns out the casino owners didn’t send him. My fiancé’s son-in-law did.”
“Who?” Bunny asked.
“Why?” Skye got right to the point.
Charlie and Simon were silent, perplexed looks on both their faces.
Ruby stared pointedly at the bar. “Someone make me a martini and I’ll explain as much as I know.”
“Make mine a double and I’ll fill in the rest.” A tall, handsome man in his sixties stood framed in the doorway.
Ruby leaped out of her chair and threw herself into his arms. “Darling, how did you get here?”
“When this dunderhead kidnapped you, he called my son-in-law to report that he had you. My daughter overheard her husband arranging to send someone to kill you, and she told me everything. I boarded the next plane to Chicago.”
Everyone tried to talk at once, and Skye thought she would need to resort to the hose for a second time that day. Instead, she put two fingers in her mouth and let out a piercing whistle. In the ensuing silence she said, “Why don’t we just let Mr. . . . ?”
“Masterson,” Ruby supplied. “Everyone, this is my fiancé, Archie Masterson.”
Skye nodded and completed her sentence, “. . . Mr. Masterson and Ruby tell us everything from the beginning.” Skye turned to the blonde and directed, “Ruby, you start from when Lance kidnapped you.”
“The kids at the Easter-egg hunt were so loud, and I had a horrible headache, so I decided to sit outside until it was all over.” Ruby clung to her fiancé. “When the Easter Bunny came up to me, I thought it was Charlie, but then he pulled a gun and demanded I give him the ring and the letters. I refused and he tore the apartment apart. Luckily, I had put the ring and most of the letters in my safe-deposit box before leaving Las Vegas. I managed to slam a lamp across his face, but he didn’t drop the gun, and when he couldn’t find what he wanted he forced me to go with him.”
“That explains the blood,” Bunny murmured. “We were worried it was yours.”
“Nope. That sucker’s nose bled like a stuck pig.”
“You almost broke it. If I’m too disfigured to do my act, I’m going to sue you.” Lance whined until Bunny made a squeezing motion with her hand.
“Why did he want your ring, and what letters are you talking about?” Skye asked, getting more and more confused. “What act?”
“I’m able to solve the first part of the mystery.” Archie smiled, displaying straight white teeth under a clipped gray mustache. “When Ruby consented to be my bride, I gave her the Masterson diamond as an engagement ring. The letters are no doubt from me to Ruby declaring my love and intention to marry her.”
Skye was entranced with Archie’s slight accent; it wasn’t quite British, but what was it? She shook her head. She wasn’t going to let his charm distract her from getting the whole story. “And?”
Archie sighed. “And when I told my daughter about my engagement to Ruby, and she told her husband, my twit of a son-in-law was afraid Ruby’s rather vivid past would leak out and ruin his chances to become governor of Nevada.” Archie’s blue eyes twinkled and he winked at Ruby. “What he really should be afraid of is that my past might get out.”
Ruby swatted him playfully and giggled. “Oh, Archie.”
Skye ignored the interruption, intent on getting this whole thing settled once and for all. “So he hired this goon to get back the ring and the letters,” she guessed.
“Exactly. They’re the only physical evidence that we plan to marry. Once he had them, his next step was to have someone get rid of Ruby. He fooled my daughter into giving him the phone number here, ferreted out Ruby’s location, and sicced this cretin on her.”
Skye turned to Ruby. “How did you get away from the factory? Didn’t he have you tied up?”
“I could have gotten free from the ropes anytime—remember I was married to both a contortionist and a magician—but I had to wait until he left me alone.” Ruby shook her head. “Luckily, I was already free and walking down the road when the next thug showed up or I’d be dead right now. I hid behind a tree and watched. The new guy was a professional, and had his gun drawn as he went into the building. He was ready to shoot me.”
Archie hugged her as everyone else made sounds of distress.
Finally, Skye said, “There’s only one thing I still don’t understand.”
“What?” Ruby and Archie asked together.
“How Lance just happened to have all the costumes handy to disguise himself all week.”
Everyone’s eyes turned to the guy tied to the chair. He shrugged. �
��They’re part of my act. I’m not really a crook, but I owed Mr. Masterson’s son-in-law a favor, and Mr. Carretti called it in. In my real life, I do a show at the Majestic Casino impersonating dead movie stars.”
Charlie grunted, unimpressed. “What are we going to do with this guy?”
“Turn him over to Wally,” Skye said firmly.
Lance cringed. “Mr. Carretti’s going to kill me.”
“Don’t worry.” Bunny patted his shoulder. “Maybe Wally can put you into the witless protection program.”
Skye snorted, not sure if the redhead knew what she had just said. Either way, Skye was glad that school would be starting up again on Monday and that this was her last day working at the bowling alley. Dealing with hormonal teenagers had to be easier than this past week with crazy Bunny and her even crazier friend.
“I enjoy every minute of every book of this series.”
—Charlaine Harris, Anthony-winning author of the Southern Vampire Mystery Series
Murder of a Creped Suzette
“Tongue-in-cheek humor, complex motives, and unique murders. The latest cleverly crafted tale is another entertaining mystery.”
—Romantic Times
“Denise Swanson’s books have a lot to recommend them. . . . Enjoy the familiar setting, likable characters, and amusing stories in Swanson’s series. You’ll want to read them all.”
—JG-TC.com (Journal Gazette Times in Matoon Charleston, IL)
“Psychologist Skye Denison is back (after Murder of a Bookstore Babe) investigating a cold case that heats up quickly when her client dies, too. Chock-full of country music references and humor.”
—Library Journal (online)
Murder of a Bookstore Babe
“In the latest installment in her cozy Scumble River series, Swanson serves up another irresistible slice of romance-spiced mystery.”
—Chicago Tribune
“A fun and fast-paced mystery. . . . As always, Skye Dennison and Scumble River provide a reliable, enjoyable mystery. Reading about Scumble River is as comfortable as being in your own hometown.”
—The Mystery Reader
“Swanson once again thrills her readers with another trip back to Scumble River and the huge cast of characters who populate her novels. The thirteenth book in the series, Murder of a Bookstore Babe is still as fresh and fun to read as the first book, and that’s quite a tribute to the skills of an author to keep it so.”
—Fresh Fiction
Murder of a Wedding Belle
“The latest carefully crafted installment in Swanson’s Scumble River series features a charming heroine, who is equally skilled at juggling detection and romance.”
—Chicago Tribune
“A tightly woven mystery. . . . I had no idea as to who the murderer was until the final reveal, which definitely makes for a page-turning read.”
—Once Upon a Romance Reviews
Murder of a Royal Pain
“A trip to Scumble River is like visiting with old friends. . . . Another entry into a fine series that is sure to be on most must-read lists.”
—The Mystery Reader
“Swanson has given me many a smile and many hours of wonderful fun reading. This is another in a long line of really great books.”
—CrimeSpree Magazine
Murder of a Chocolate-Covered Cherry
“[A] cleverly crafted plot . . . with a generous dash of romance.”
—Chicago Tribune
“Top-notch storytelling with truly unique and wonderful characters.”
—CrimeSpree Magazine
Murder of a Botoxed Blonde
“Endearing . . . quirky . . . a delight.”
—Chicago Tribune
“Tight plotting and plenty of surprises keep this series on my must-read list.”
—CrimeSpree Magazine
Murder of a Real Bad Boy
“Swanson is a born storyteller.”
—CrimeSpree Magazine
“Another knee-slapping adventure in Scumble River.”
—The Amplifier (KY)
Murder of a Smart Cookie
“Smartly spins on a solid plot and likable characters.”
—South Florida Sun-Sentinel
“[Swanson] has a lot of surprises in store for the reader.”
—Midwest Book Review
Murder of a Pink Elephant
“The must-read book of the summer.”
—Butler County Post (KY)
“Current readers will appreciate the trip into Scumble River, while new readers will want to go back.”
—The Best Reviews
Murder of a Barbie and Ken
“Denise Swanson keeps getting better and better! This time, I giggled like a schoolgirl at the antics of Simon’s estranged mother, Bunny, the explanation of the two essential tools for every household, and even the very fitting character names. . . . It is not necessarily the mystery that holds me riveted. It is Denise’s way with words. She knows just how to add humor and warmth to her books, making them unforgettable reads!”
—Roundtable Reviews
“Denise Swanson hits all the right notes in this brisk and witty peek at small-town foibles and foul play.”
—Romantic Times (top pick)
“Swanson continues her lively, light, and quite insightful look at small-town life.”
—The Hartford Courant
“Another sidesplitting visit to Scumble River . . . with some of the quirkiest and most eccentric characters we ever have met.”
—Butler County Post (KY)
Murder of a Snake in the Grass
“An endearing and realistic character. . . . A fast-paced, enjoyable read.”
—The Herald News
“This book is delightful.”
—Mysterious Woman
Murder of a Sleeping Beauty
“A smooth, pleasant, and ultimately satisfying book.”
—Chicago Tribune
“Another delightful and intriguing escapade”
—Mystery News
Murder of a Sweet Old Lady
“More fun than the Whirl-A-Gig at the county fair and tastier than a corndog.”
—The Charlotte Austin Review
“A magnificent tale written by a wonderful author.”
—Midwest Book Review
Murder of a Small-Town Honey
“Bounces along with gently wry humor and jaunty twists and turns. The quintessential amateur sleuth: bright, curious, and more than a little nervy.”
—Agatha Award–winning author Earlene Fowler
Author’s Note
In July of 2000, when the first book in my Scumble River series, Murder of a Small-Town Honey, was published, it was written in “real time.” It was the year 2000 in Skye’s life as well as mine. But after several books in a series, time becomes a problem. It takes me from seven months to a year to write a book, and then it is usually another year from the time I turn that book in to my editor until the reader sees it on a bookstore shelf. This can make the timeline confusing. Different authors handle this matter in different ways. After a great deal of deliberation, I decided that Skye and her friends and family would age more slowly than those of us who don’t live in Scumble River. So to catch everyone up, the following is when the books take place:
Murder of a Small-Town Honey—August 2000
Murder of a Sweet Old Lady—March 2001
Murder of a Sleeping Beauty—April 2002
Murder of a Snake in the Grass—August 2002
Murder of a Barbie and Ken—November 2002
Murder of a Pink Elephant—February 2003
Murder of a Smart Cookie—June 2003
Murder of a Real Bad Boy—September 2003
Murder
of a Botoxed Blonde—November 2003
Murder of a Chocolate-Covered Cherry—April 2004
Murder of a Royal Pain—October 2004
Murder of a Wedding Belle—June 2005
Murder of a Bookstore Babe—September 2005
Murder of a Creped Suzette—October 2005
Murder of the Cat’s Meow—March 2006
And this is when the Scumble River short story and novella take place:
“Not a Monster of a Chance” from And the Dying Is Easy—June 2001
“Dead Blondes Tell No Tales” from Drop-Dead Blonde—March 2003
* * *
Scumble River is not a real town. The characters
and events portrayed in these pages are entirely
fictional, and any resemblance to living
persons is pure coincidence.
* * *
ALSO BY DENISE SWANSON
SCUMBLE RIVER MYSTERIES
Short story: “Not a Monster of a Chance”
Novella: “Dead Blondes Tell No Tales”
Murder of the Cat’s Meow
Murder of a Creped Suzette
Murder of a Bookstore Babe
Murder of a Wedding Belle
Murder of a Royal Pain
Murder of a Chocolate-Covered Cherry
Murder of a Botoxed Blonde
Murder of a Real Bad Boy
Murder of a Smart Cookie
Murder of a Pink Elephant
Murder of a Barbie and Ken
Murder of a Snake in the Grass
Murder of a Sleeping Beauty
Murder of a Sweet Old Lady
Dead Blondes Tell No Tales Page 8