Under the Gun

by Kelsey Browning

  “While we were waiting on you, I looked up the calendar of events. This place is loaded with amenities. It’s like the Red Door Spa, except that insurance will pay for it. Well, and it’s probably missing the cute massage therapists and monogrammed robes.”

  “What is this?” Abby Ruth asked. The space had to be a good fifty feet long and nearly as wide with a platform in the middle. “A picnic?”

  Sera rose on her toes and spun, sending her ankle-length skirt into a parachute of filmy material around her toned legs. “Laughter therapy! Isn’t it great?”

  A rush of relief cruised through Abby Ruth. “I love comedy.”

  But then Dr. Dempsey and two other doctors leaped to the stage. When they leaned back, hands on their stomachs, and began to laugh, Abby Ruth’s relaxed state returned to high alert.

  From across the room, a cute blonde girl with a microphone headset announced, “Welcome first-timers! And helloooooo, Laughter Masters. Let’s get this therapy going.” She blew a kazoo, and people burst into hideous artificial laughter.

  Fake as Hollis Dooley’s teeth.

  Shuffling back a step, Abby Ruth said, “What in blazes—”

  The rambunctious blonde sang out, “Place your hands on your cheeks. Open your mouth wide. Now laugh until you feel the vibration in your fingers. Oh, yeah. HA. HAHA. HAHAHAHA. HA. HA. HAHA.”

  “Was that to the tune of ‘Itsy Bitsy Spider’? Oh, hell no.” Abby Ruth turned to make a speedy exit.

  But Sera swept an arm out and caught her by the denim jacket. “Come on. Give it a try. Please?”

  Maggie was getting right into it, leaning back and belly laughing. Lil was so tickled by Maggie that tears were streaming down her cheeks. Her face as pink as a piglet, Maggie seemed to be taking joy in Lil’s uncontrollable response, and that got Jenny going too.

  “Please?” Sera pleaded. “He, he, he with me, Abby Ruth. Just once.”

  Abby Ruth rolled her eyes and was about to walk away when Dr. Dempsey jumped down off the stage and jogged toward her. “Ms. Cady, glad to see you stayed for this.”

  Dr. McHottie took her hands and placed them on his flat stomach. Abby Ruth couldn’t help herself and let her fingers do a little walking. She’d been wrong about his abs being flat, because under her nimble fingers she could feel the ridges of his—one, two, three, four, five, six, whew!—eight-pack.

  Which meant she was very much in his personal space, and her fingers tingled with each puff of his laughter. She couldn’t help but chuckle, and at that moment, she dropped all her defenses and let him spin her in a circle as they both laughed.

  Five minutes later, a bell rang and the room fell into a soft titter of giggles and conversation.

  “Great first time. Wish you’d come sooner. This will make those treatments go so much smoother. Sounds crazy, but I’m telling you if you come to the laughter therapy session, it’ll help. Maybe we’ll bump into each other outside my office. Have a cup of coffee.” Dr. Dempsey patted her shoulder and walked away, pulling a stethoscope out of his coat pocket and placing it around his neck. Too bad his white coat was keeping her from seeing if his tush was as tight as his middle.

  “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Sera asked.

  “There’s definitely something to be said for what just happened here.” And they could laugh all they wanted, but a man like Dr. Dempsey could heal anything that ailed her.

  “You’re the only woman…I know…” Maggie gulped in air, but her words were still breathy. “…who would pick up a guy in a hospital?”

  “That’s not a guy. He’s my doctor.” But although Dr. Dempsey was a handsome and charming devil, and she’d let Jenny believe she was interested, the man from her past was still first place in her thoughts these days.

  “Seriously? You’re the luckiest woman here!”

  “I’m probably also the only woman in this room lucky enough to have friends who care so much that they would drive over a hundred miles to subject themselves to jester therapy.” She spread her arms and pulled her friends into a group hug, something Abby Ruth Cady never thought she’d do.

  But then, life had a way of changing you when you least expected it.

  Chapter 26

  Three weeks later, a woman wearing a bright pink suit walked down the hall of the mausoleum to the Myrtle alcove, took a seat on the marble bench next to the statue of Michael and crossed her legs, her hands in her lap.

  She glanced down the long corridor. A man in a baseball cap and khakis stood near a niche at the far end. In the other direction, two men tinkered with the front of a crypt as if resealing the contents into place. It looked just like any other day at the mausoleum.

  Lillian pushed the chestnut-colored wig back from her cheek and placed a finger to her ear.

  “Everyone is in place. Relax, Miss Lillian. You’re an old pro at this by now.”

  Pride swelled in her chest. Once Bad Charlie had spilled all the details about the gunrunning to save his own hide, Lil had stepped in to play the role of Rosemary Myrtle to help bring down the whole operation. Come to find out, Rosemary’s deceased husband had left her in a bit of a financial pickle, having cancelled his life insurance without his wife’s knowledge. So to keep up her big Victorian and all that staff after his death, Rosemary had committed some dark deeds.

  Although Lil understood how keeping up family appearances could get out of hand and spur questionable behavior, what Rosemary had done was different. Both in scope and impact.

  Guns in the wrong hands…not a victimless crime.

  Add to that the fact that Rosemary had not only taken Lil as a fool, but also nearly taken her life? Lil would never be tricked like that again.

  Fortunately, the queen pin was already behind bars, but now Lil was helping dust up the rest of the vermin.

  A familiar voice echoed through her earpiece. “No reason this won’t go down exactly as it has the past few weeks.”

  She moistened her lips and crossed her right leg over left, the signal that she could hear them.

  Each week, it had been the same drill. She played the part of Rosemary and accepted the gun shipments, luring all the baddies right into the ATF’s crosshairs. And each week, they’d successfully taken down one more tentacle of the gun ring.

  Today she was waiting for a pickup from the bad guys who were distributing guns up the East Coast. All the incoming gun handlers, mostly operating out of Florida, had been arrested.

  Only one crypt of weapons remained.

  One last gunrunning team to take down.

  What they had no way of knowing was the guns in this crypt had no firing pins. Completely harmless, unlike the ones Rosemary had been moving.

  The undercover agent who was dressed like the security guard left his post for the scheduled daily break. Cars in the parking lot were cleared except for Rosemary’s. The facility maintenance pickup truck and van were parked as usual at the loading dock’s far end near the emergency exit.

  The man at the end of the hall turned his baseball cap around, the sign the pickup was about to go down.

  Lil hands dampened but not because she was afraid for her life. Although she couldn’t see the ATF agents, she knew plenty of law enforcement professionals were around. Even one in the ceiling, just in case. And they were trained in tactics she probably didn’t want to know too much about.

  Like clockwork, a double-honk came from the loading dock. Then, the triple-beep of the back door alarm, signaling someone had entered the code and was now in the building. Heavy footsteps headed her way, through the loading dock and into the hallway.

  Lil dipped her head slightly to conceal her face under the thin layer of netting on her hat. But with her size and the reddish wig she wore, none of these criminals should be suspicious.

  Rosemary herself had admitted this was a well-oiled operation that had been in place for years. With consistency and familiarity, people became less careful.

  Three of them this time. Last week there’d been four.
Three men and a young blonde woman who didn’t serve any purpose except an ego boost.

  A stubby bald man not much taller than herself led the way, flanked by two strapping young men. One with dark hair, the other as bald as the man in the lead but twice his height.

  She rose to her feet, pivoted and pushed on the front of the crypt at the lower left. The granite wiggled, making a scraping noise. Stubby nodded in her direction and then motioned the two younger men toward the crypt. They pulled the remaining rosette clip and removed the front with ease, setting it aside. The older bald man leaned inside and grasped the coffin’s handle. Then both men heaved the wooden coffin out and set it to the floor. When they lifted the lid, twenty automatic weapons lay nestled in a layer of bubble wrap.

  The guy moved the guns, counting them off out loud. “All here,” said the dark-haired boy.

  Stubby pulled an envelope from his coat pocket and slid it into the narrow opening below the pedestal where Michael stood watch.

  Lil shook the gun seller’s hand then turned and stepped out of the way behind a pillar.

  No sooner did that envelope settle to the bottom of the hollow form than ten men swarmed the small team of three to take them into custody.

  She stood with her back to what was happening, out of harm’s way, as she’d been taught, until she heard in her earpiece, “You’re done for the day, Miss Lillian.”

  She smiled, knowing that although she couldn’t see the man whose voice echoed in her ear, he had full eyes on her.

  “Another fine job. That’s the last of them.”

  She wiggled her fingers in a wave. And with that, the entire Myrtle gunrunning pipeline had been dissolved. And now Lil could admit, if only to herself, that Rosemary had spearheaded a brilliant but reprehensible operation. The woman had kept the incoming and outgoing shipments completely separate. No one seemed to know any other part of the ring because the groups dropping off and picking up the weapons came to the mausoleum on alternating weeks.

  And Lil had help stopping every last transaction. She took comfort in the knowledge that she’d made a difference, had kept lives safer here in the Southeast. No wonder the girls were so eager to continue investigating crimes. Justice was a powerful drug.

  And with her experience on the inside, Lil had a new appreciation for how smart and organized crime was. A gal had to be twice as sharp as the baddies to take them down.

  She’d heard the contents of the Myrtle estate would go on the auction block later this month. Perhaps she’d pick up that china, because the teacup she’d coveted would be an excellent reality check if she ever again got too darned big for her britches.

  Thanks bunches for reading Under the Gun!

  Want more of Lil and the gals?

  * * *

  Discover what happens when they try to nab a thieving wedding crasher in GIMME SOME SUGAR.

  With a family wedding on the horizon, these feisty over-fifty gals offer to make it the shindig of the century in three short weeks. But when the G Team discovers wedding guests all over Georgia are being swindled, they vow to nab the low-down lawbreaker.

  * * *

  They’re determined to uncover the truth layer by layer, but posing undercover as wedding guests isn’t as simple as it seems. A dodgy DJ and life-changing chicken dance are just a couple of the snags they encounter. It would all be good fun, except now they’re forced to investigate in their own back yard.

  * * *

  Just when they turn up the heat on the case, a secret Abby Ruth has kept to herself for thirty years comes out, and everything starts to crumble. Now, they’ll have to tempt the bad guy out into the open, but if they do, it could permanently topple Jenny and Teague’s happily ever after.

  * * *

  One-click GIMME SOME SUGAR now!

  * * *

  Turn the page for an excerpt from GIMME SOME SUGAR…

  Excerpt from Gimme Some Sugar

  Chapter One

  The sound of brass horns blasted through Summer Haven’s first floor, and Lil jumped so high she almost lost her grip on the cookie sheet she’d been pulling from the oven. Before she could figure out what the jarring noise was, the horns were joined by the beat of drums.

  Wait a minute. She knew that song. Abby Ruth often marched through the house to it, bellowing something about sawing Varsity’s horns off.

  Abby Ruth Cady had replaced Lil’s beautiful doorbell chimes with “The Aggie War Hymn.”

  That woman…

  Lil rushed from the kitchen to the foyer, her shoes tapping on the heart pine floors. Before she could answer the door, the person outside must’ve pressed the doorbell again, because the song started over.

  Taking a calming breath, Lil opened the front door to find a smiling woman standing on the porch. Her trim, teal-colored pantsuit matched the late-May morning sky. With a slim leather bag in one hand and her blond hair neatly brushed into an updo, she appeared to be in her thirties.

  “Good morning,” she said, holding out a business card. “I’m Sharon Duncan.”

  Instinctively, Lil reached for the card and glanced down at it.

  Sharon Dooley Duncan

  Attorney-at-Law

  The welcoming smile on Lil’s lips froze in an attempt to control the tremble matching the hummingbird-pace of her heart.

  A lawyer at Summer Haven? Lord, please no.

  Dread filled Lil, and suddenly the sweet aroma of the pecan sandies that she’d just taken out of the oven made her feel as lightheaded as a diabetic after slurping down a snow cone. The last time she’d talked with attorneys, she’d ended up sleeping on a dreadful prison camp cot for more months than she cared to remember. She should’ve known better than to sign her late husband’s Social Security checks just to give him an expensive burial, but she’d paid her debt to society for it.

  Her brain scrambling, she swallowed hard. Why would an attorney show up on her doorstep?

  “The paperwork I have—” the woman’s words dragged Lil back to the situation at hand, “—indicated I would be able to find the person I’m looking for here at Summer Haven.”

  Breathe. Smile. Breathe.

  “Would you happen to be Abby Ruth Cady?” Ms. Duncan asked.

  Hallelujah. Relief flew through Lil, but she hadn’t meant for that joyous yelp to escape. She cleared her throat, hoping the lawyer lady hadn’t noticed.

  “Me, Abby Ruth Cady?” Lil could never be confused with Abby Ruth, not even on a day when popsicles were being served down below. Although she and the brassy Texan had learned to tolerate and sometimes almost like each other, they were still nothing alike. “I’m afraid not, dear,” she said. “I’m Lillian Summer Fairview, Summer Haven’s owner.”

  Her eyebrows drawn together, Ms. Duncan said, “My apologies. I must have received the wrong information. So sorry to have bothered you.” She turned to head down the front steps, and Lil thought she heard something that sounded like, “Thanks, Uncle H.”

  Before Lil could tell the woman she was at the right place, Abby Ruth clomped down the stairs in those cowboy boots of hers, stepping right up behind Lil in the foyer and pointing a rude finger toward the lawyer. “Who’s that?”

  “Someone looking for you.”

  “Young lady,” Abby Ruth called, “I’m Abby Ruth Cady.”

  Ms. Duncan stopped mid-step. This time, as she turned to face them, Ms. Duncan’s words were clearly understandable. “Thank God and all the angels with him.”

  Lil held the door so Ms. Duncan could come inside.

  “Is there a place where we could sit?” she asked. “I’m here to represent Hollis Dooley’s estate.”

  “His estate?” Abby Ruth folded her arms, creating creases in her starched white shirt that matched the ones around her narrowed eyes.

  “Sharon Dooley Duncan,” Lil muttered to herself. “You’re Hollis’s family?” Lil’s heart squeezed. It hadn’t been but ten days since Hollis had passed away peacefully in his sleep, and the town of Summer Shoals wa
s still grieving over the loss of their local curmudgeon.

  “His great-niece.”

  “Didn’t see you at the funeral.” Abby Ruth straightened to her full height, towering over the young attorney.

  “I was out of the country, but my uncle had his affairs in order. In fact, we updated his will a few months ago. Which—” she leveled a stare in Abby Ruth’s direction, “—is why I am here to see you.”

  Abby Ruth tapped her toe the way she did when she was antsy. She eyed the attorney suspiciously, sending Lil’s Southern sensibilities into a twirl. She nudged Abby Ruth and gave her a warning glance.

  “Are you saying Hollis left us something in his will?” Abby Ruth said. “Sure hope it’s something good.”

  “Abby Ruth!” That woman had absolutely no filter. “We’re so sorry for your loss, Ms. Duncan,” Lil said, hoping to overshadow Abby Ruth’s crude comment.

  “Thank you.” Ms. Duncan turned her attention back to Abby Ruth. “And yes, he did, Ms. Cady—”

  “Call me Abby Ruth.”

  “Abby Ruth, this pertains to his most prized possession.”

  “We weren’t that close.” Abby Ruth shot Lil an arched-brow look.

  Lil’s hopes soared at the mention of a prized possession. Maybe Hollis had been one of those old guys who appeared to barely make ends meet but actually slept on a mattress full of cash every night. “Abby Ruth, why don’t you show our guest to the parlor? I have a fresh pot of coffee brewed and cookies still warm from the oven.”

  Ms. Dooley Duncan tugged at the collar of her blouse. “I don’t want to be a bother—”

  “Be a bother. Otherwise, she’ll ration me to two cookies.” Abby Ruth pointed toward the front room that held a velvet divan, antique turned-leg ottoman, and a big-screen TV that still gave Lil heart palpitations when she saw it hanging on the wall. Never would she admit how much she enjoyed watching MMA fights on it when the other gals weren’t home.