A Murder In Milburn Book 2 Death Of A Deputy REVAMPED June 2016 SCRIVENER

by McGovern, Nancy

  Contents

  Title Page

  Disclaimer

  Special Offer!

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  RECIPE!

  One More Thing

  A Note From Nancy

  A MURDER IN MILBURN, BOOK 2:

  Death Of A Deputy

  By

  Nancy McGovern

  Rights & Disclaimer

  This is entirely a work of fiction. All people, places and events contained have been completely fabricated by the author. Any similarities to real people, places, or events are completely coincidental.

  Death Of A Deputy, Copyright © 2016 Nancy McGovern

  http://www.Facebook.com/AuthorNancyMcG

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced in any manner or used in any way without advanced written permission by the author.

  A Special Offer!

  To receive updates & special offers on my books, please sign up for my newsletter by CLICKING HERE! I’ll also tell you more about joining my Street Team, through which you can receive FREE COPIES of my books in return for honest reviews! It’ll be so much fun!

  Dedication

  The first book in this series was for my husband, Doug, for keeping the kids corralled for endless hours while I tapped away on my laptop.

  This one is for those three kids, for going easy on their dad during those times.

  Chapter 1

  “This is so exciting,” Nora exclaimed as she pulled her jacket coat tight around herself. “A real Viking Festival!”

  “I’d say it’s a pretty major deal,” Tina Scott said. “The committee has been trying to make it happen three years in a row, but something always came up.”

  Nora had set up her stall early that morning by the Crystal Lake’s meadow, where the fair was scheduled. She’d worked hard the week before, making sausages and kebabs from fresh ground meat and spices, preparing the batter for her crepes, and learning to make authentic Lefse – traditional soft Norwegian flatbread made with leftover potatoes, flour, butter, and cream.

  Now, her stall was among the first ones up, a festive purple, with silver ribbons spiraling up its poles, and a large placard displaying photos of the goods.

  “Mmm.” Tina took a deep sniff and smacked her lips appreciatively. “I tell you, Nora, you can chuck my paycheck and just start paying me in food. These kebabs smell divine. It’s like my nose has found a new reason to live. I’m trying to tear myself away from it all, and I just get drawn to it.”

  Nora laughed. Tina’s words made her think of old-timey cartoons, the black and white kind, where a character wandering around the street would suddenly inhale a fluffy white cloud, and then get pulled by his nose to drool over the display of a bakery or restaurant.

  “You’ve been a great help, Tina. I would never have been able to set up the stall without you. I might not even have participated if you hadn’t pushed me to.” Nora smiled up appreciatively at her new friend.

  “Oh, It was the least I could do. To be honest, I felt genuinely bad about the way some of us treated you when… when the whole Raquel thing happened.”

  Nora winced.

  She’d returned to her hometown of Milburn, Wyoming, a year ago, determined to begin a new diner with her best friend Raquel, but tragedy had struck when Raquel had been murdered by a psycho a few nights before their diner could open. Back then Nora had been new to town, and the town folk had looked on her with disdain when she had tried to persuade them that it was not the work of a passing drifter, but of someone closer to town. She’d alienated them with her behavior initially, but when she had helped unveil the true murderer, the same people who had been hard to her had come around and now looked upon her fondly.

  Tina was one such townie. She’d sided with the others initially, seeing Nora’s protests as a way to discredit the town.

  Now, she worked smilingly with Nora, helping her plan and set up the stall, and market it with fliers.

  Raquel’s death had also almost killed Nora’s hopes of beginning the diner. Nora had sunk her own money into creating the enterprise. The bank loan they’d taken was supposed to be paid off with Raquel’s savings, but that substantial sum had instead gone off to her estranged parents after she’d died.

  Now, with some luck, the money made at the stall, combined with the money she had saved up from catering jobs this last year, would help Nora pay off what she owed the bank, and finally, start the diner. It had been Nora’s fondest wish, and one she sometimes felt was impossibly hard to achieve. She struggled to achieve it just the same.

  She stood behind the counter, wearing a red turtleneck sweater, dark jeans, and a bright purple apron that matched the stall. The chef’s hat on her head was parked at an angle, and proclaimed “Eat like no one’s watching. Cook like everyone is.”

  “Nora.” May Almand, the coordinator for the event, walked up. “I see you’ve used silver ribbons on the poles. Might I remind you that our rules state that all décor should be in keeping with the festival’s spirits.”

  “Silver ribbons aren’t festive enough for you?” Nora smiled.

  “The other stalls don’t have them,” May Almand said, holding her nose slightly higher than it needed to be. “They might be a little… out of place.”

  “Oh May, don’t be a stickler. She’s fine,” Tina said. “The only thing we need to worry about is if she’s bought enough food. To be honest, I think she’ll be sold out by lunchtime.”

  “Don’t say that.” Nora pressed her hands against her stomach, calming the jitters. “I’ve bought enough food to feed an army of hungry men.”

  “Well, that’s exactly what you’ll be getting,” May said. “We’re expecting at least a thousand people, since we’re counting both townies and passing tourists.”

  “We’ve advertised all over,” Tina said with a smile. “A lot of girls from Jackson are coming over just because of our band.”

  “Who’s playing in the band?” Nora asked.

  “Oh, just the local heartthrob and all around delicious JJ Johnson, aka our very own Wallis.”

  “What, Deputy Wallis?” Nora gaped at her. “Sean’s deputy Wallis?”

  “Sheriff Dracon’s Wallis, yes. He’s in a band. A really good band at that.” Tina leaned over. “I’ve heard Dracon’s quite mad at Wallis lately–what with the reelection for town sheriff coming up, and Wallis trying to campaign against Dracon.”

  “I heard Harvey Nathaniel’s supporting Wallis.” May leaned forward, all enmity forgotten in the hunt for good gossip. “That’s how Wallis was able to afford all the advertising he’s done.”

  “Which Harvey? Not our super rich, super eligible town bachelor himself.” Tina giggled. “I heard he’s dating a model from Cody now.”


  “Nora ought to know about it.” May raised an eyebrow at Nora, a smirk crossing her face.

  Nora felt herself flush. “I try not to get involved in Harvey’s business,” she said.

  “Why, I’ve never understood it,” Tina exclaimed. “Harvey’s business depends on you, doesn’t it? You’re the one that helped him out of that little mess he had with Santino. If you hadn’t uncovered definitive proof that Harvey wasn’t responsible for any fraud he might have gone right to jail.”

  Nora shook her head. “I’d rather not think about the past,” she said.

  “Of course, poor dear,” Tina said. “I think-”

  But what she thought would forever be lost to the others, as a painful screech filled the air, followed by the bellowing voice of a man.

  “I’ll kill you,” the man was screaming. “I’ll murder you right now!”

  *****

  Chapter 2

  Nora, May, and Tina all ran toward the voice that had come from one edge of the field, where a makeshift platform was being set up in preparation for the concert.

  “Heavy headed whale! Fat loafer!” the man was shouting.

  Nora reached him first, to see a large, blonde man with clenched fists and a straining neck.

  “I cannot believe anyone as incompetent as you is allowed within ten feet of equipment!” the man yelled.

  Nora gasped as she recognized the man – Deputy Wallis. Then again, Deputy Wallis was a tall, broad-chested man of the law with a buzz cut and a proud handlebar mustache. The man in front of her was still Wallis, but Wallis in his alternate avatar – JJ Johnson, of JJ Johnson and the Jackhammer Squad. He was dressed now as a Viking, with a false sword dangling from his belt, a fake-fur-lined cape, and a horn-studded helmet. The helmet was dangling behind him, attached to his neck by a cord, clearly having toppled off due to his raging anger.

  The Jackhammer Squad, three tattooed men dressed in somewhat medieval clothes, each holding their instruments close to them, stood anxiously in the background.

  Meanwhile, Wallis screamed at one of the roadies, who had managed to drop a heavy speaker on his guitar. Not having had his fill of screaming at the roadie, Wallis advanced on him and began to shower blows on his head and shoulders.

  Appalled, Nora jumped up on stage and tried to get between the two.

  “Deputy Wallis!” she exclaimed. “Control yourself, I beg you. Calm down.”

  Still trying to swing at the roadie, a boy of barely sixteen, Wallis let himself be pushed back as Nora grabbed him.

  “Yeah, you better run!” Wallis called out. “If I see your face near here again, I’m going to kill you, you hear that? This was a 1970s guitar my father had left me! It was a priceless heirloom! I should have your head for what you’ve done.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” the boy whimpered, tears streaming down his face.

  “Stop it now,” Nora said angrily to Wallis. “You’re a deputy, for goodness’ sake. This is not appropriate behavior. The poor boy made a mistake. You need to let it go.”

  “Let it go?” Wallis got his face close to her and let out a big bellow. “Well, who’s going to give me a replacement right before the concert? Will you do it, Miss United Nations? Who made you peacekeeper anyway?”

  “The name’s Nora Newberry,” she said. “I’d thank you to stop yelling at me. Let’s try and figure out a way to get you a new guitar.”

  “Oh, I have a whole collection at home,” Wallis sneered. “I’m sure the manager will get me another too. The point is this careless, wretched boy needed to be taught a lesson.”

  The manager, a harried, balding man named James Crenshaw, rushed up on stage and tried his hardest to soothe Wallis. “JJ, I’m so sorry about what happened. I’ll see that the boy gets fired immediately, with no pay.”

  “No,” the boy protested behind them. “No, please! I’ll do anything.”

  “Surely this can be handled without causing a public scene,” May said, her upper lip curling slightly. “James, take the young man away to your office and do what you have to. Find Wallis a guitar too. As for you, Nora, the fair isn’t opened yet but I think I see someone at your stall.”

  Aware that May was just trying to make her leave, Nora planted her feet firmly and glared. “I’ll go to the manager’s office with him. It’s not completely fair to fire the boy without learning what happened.”

  “You should worry about being fired yourself,” May said. “Or did you forget rule 17, bylaw 3 of the committee’s rulebook for the Viking festival? It states that no stall shall be left unattended at any point in the evening. It’s a safety hazard, what with your cooking materials and gas stove.”

  “Oh, Rule 17, bylaw 3 of the committee’s rulebook,” Nora quipped. “Who could ever forget that grandiose piece of literature? Shakespeare himself used to quote from it, I hear.”

  May colored red. In a quiet voice that only Nora could hear, she hissed, “I’ll have you know, Nora, that I’ve been doing you a great kindness so far, allowing your stall to even enter the festival. God knows we have no real references telling us what you did in New York City. Big city, big sinners. How do I know you’re capable of dealing with the stall? You certainly haven’t done anything to prove it so far. There’s just one unopened diner in your CV. Now get back to that stall, or take it down. Your choice.”

  Flushing with anger, Nora walked off the stage and headed back to her stall. The good mood that had been building within her as she had worked all week now seemed tainted with events that had lasted only a few minutes.

  “Never mind,” Tina consoled her. “May is a hard-nosed stickler. Everyone knows that. Besides, the boy did drop that speaker onto JJ–er–Wallis’ guitar. He deserves to be fired.”

  “I know,” Nora sighed as she reached her stall. “I just wish that the world weren’t run by powerful men who don’t know how to treat those below them.”

  “Well, there are some that do,” Tina smiled. “Here comes one.”

  *****

  Chapter 3

  Nora looked up and saw the man who was leaning against her stall, whistling cheerfully. For once, he was out of his sheriff’s costume, but even in a simple blue sweater and dark jeans, he looked official somehow. He was one of those men who looked capable and good-natured even the first time you saw him. It sure helped him catch people off guard, as his razor sharp mind would first disarm suspects and then trap them in their own words.

  He was holding a single flower in his hand, an orange long-stemmed gladiola. His face lit up as she approached him.

  “Was there some sort of ruckus going on down at Wallis’ end?” he asked. “I just got here, and things seemed to be cooling so I didn’t poke my nose in.”

  “Oh, Sean, It’s good to see you,” Nora said with a smile. “It’s nothing. Wallis got angry at a boy who dropped a speaker over his heirloom guitar.”

  Sean whistled. “Well I wouldn’t like to be that boy,” he laughed. “He’s getting fired for sure.”

  “Oh, don’t say that,” Nora fretted. “The poor child is barely sixteen and he looked terrified at the prospect of losing his job.”

  “He’ll manage,” Sean said. “Now, Nora, it’s my day off, and I haven’t had a day off in, about, oh, say a thousand years. So I’m going to spend today actively avoiding all conflicts. Today is going to be my day of fluffy clouds, sugary crepes, and chilled beers.”

  Nora laughed. “I can supply one of those to you.” she got behind the counter and began heating the grill. “I’ve only got Pepsi in stock, for your other wish.”

  “Pepsi? Ugh. I’d rather drink water.” Sean scrunched his nose up.

  “You know, doctors recommend water,” she said. “Normal humans are supposed to consume about a gallon a day.”

  “I consume two gallons of coffee a day,” Sean joked. “So I’m sure it works out in the end.”

  “Someone should show you to a nutritionist,” Nora said. “Your body belongs in a museum. How it’s suffered all t
he junk you put into it, with not a love handle or a potbelly, lord only knows.”

  “Some of us are born lucky,” Sean said. “Then again, it might be that I’m running after people constantly.”

  Nora scrunched up her nose in perfect imitation of his and handed him a crepe. “Nutella and banana,” she said. “I hope you approve.”

  “Oh… I do.” Sean grabbed it, and dug in, making little ecstatic murmurs as he gobbled up the crepe.

  “I thought I’d get one for my efforts,” Tina said, making a dramatic sigh. “But I suppose I’ll be sidelined now that Sean is here,” she teased.

  “Oh, no, I’m making you one too.” Nora blushed. “Here. Lemon, cinnamon and honey.”

  “Hooray! I’m telling you, Nora, there’s only one hour to go before the fair begins, and I guarantee that the crowd is going to trample down this stall in its rush to get to the goodies. I haven’t tasted crepes this good since I went to France back in 94.”

  “1994? You can’t say back in 1994 like some sort of teenager,” Sean said. “1994 happened just three days ago! Or that’s what it feels like, at least.”

  “Going by your fashion choices, I can see why you think so,” Tina laughed. “One more of these crepes, Nora? I’ll be a good girl and eat nothing but salad all week as long as you give me a tiny bit more of this.”

  “You know, the way Tina’s addicted, I’m starting to suspect you put some illegal addictive substances into this crepe,” Sean laughed. “Luckily for you, I’m bribe-able. One more crepe and I won’t start an official investigation.”

  Nora laughed too, feeling her good mood come back, and with it, a little of the nervousness. No matter how Tina reassured her, Nora knew that May was right. She was, by and large, an unknown in town, even now, a year later. Her catering jobs had mostly taken her to Cody and Jackson, and consequently, townies hadn’t had a chance to taste her food. Would there really be a crowd at her stall in another hour? Or would she be standing here all day, with only Sean and Tina for company?