This Little Piggy Wound Up Dead (A Willow Crier Cozy Mystery Book 3) (Willow Crier Cozy Mysteries)

by Lilly York

  “You bet.”

  Willow and Steve parted ways. As Willow drew closer to their camp, she noticed Embry talking with someone although she couldn’t quite tell who it was.

  Embry raised her hand and waved hello just as Bridget turned and gave her a look that could singe the hair off even the hairiest little pig. Willow had to wonder if Dean had ever received one of those looks.

  Willow approached the camp with trepidation. Embry widened her eyes to let Willow know she was in trouble.

  “Hi, Bridget, right?”

  “You know who I am. You had no problem ratting me out to the cops. I’m here to tell you to mind your own business.”

  Willow took a step backward. “I had to tell them what I heard. They have to explore every possibility. Besides, wouldn’t it be nice to be crossed off the suspect list right away?”

  She took a step closer, hands on her hips. “You ain’t got no dog in this fight and how do you know my name should be crossed off that list?” She took yet another step closer.

  Willow was certain she could feel the heat emanating from the young woman and took a step backward. “I just assumed.”

  A loud whistle blasted through the park and police officers started jogging in the direction it came from.

  “Isn’t that close to where you were arguing with Dean yesterday?”

  Bridget’s face showed alarm. “You just keep your nose where it belongs or I’ll jerk a knot in your tail.” She quickly walked away, toward her camp.

  Embry and Willow watched her retreating back then turned to one another and both said, “A knot in your tail?” They busted out laughing.

  Chapter 3

  Willow looked toward the gathering police officers with yearning.

  “Mom, why don’t you go? I’ll finish up here.”

  She looked from the chicken to the ribs then to Embry. “I can help get these on the smoker. Then I’ll go.”

  She applied the dry rub to the chickens while Embry applied rib rub. They would just have enough time to cook before the plating began. Willow was surprised the contest was moving forward with the murder and all. Then again she reasoned there might be a dual purpose in keeping the cook-off going. People would be less likely to leave before a new bbq king—or queen—was announced.

  Police officers were busy getting information from contest participants. As long as everyone’s basic information checked out, they could leave after the contest was over.

  She had given her statement earlier. Embry still had to go and be questioned. “Why don’t you run over to the pavilion and give your statement. After that, I’ll head over to the crime scene.”

  Willow tucked the chickens and the ribs in the smoker then tested the brisket. She readied the serving containers with lettuce, parsley, and small containers of barbecue sauce.

  After putting coffee on the fire, she put some bacon on to fry while she mixed a dozen eggs in a bowl with garlic, salt, pepper, and a dash of hot sauce. “Even crime solvers have to eat.” The scent of cooking food caused her stomach to growl. “Yeah, I know. I’m working on it.”

  She had breakfast finished by the time Embry returned with Steve walking alongside her. She set the food on their folding table and poured some fresh coffee from the pot.

  “Mom, you cooked. I’m starving.”

  All three of them quickly ate. Embry was still down a sleep shift so she stole away to her bunk. Steve and Willow talked murder.

  “I take it they found the scene of the crime?”

  Steve nodded. “Yeah, looks like someone killed him then moved his body to the smoker. Wonder what kind of statement they were trying to make.”

  “Probably the obvious. That he was a pig.” She put the dirty dishes in the dish pan to soak while Steve sipped his coffee.

  He cleared his throat, then said, “Um, we have a favor to ask of you.”

  She looked up. “We?”

  “Yeah, the metro police and myself.” He continued. “Would you mind cozying up to Preston, Dean’s uncle? He’s not being very cooperative and well, he seems to have taken quite a shine to you.”

  “Do you mean Preston is being uncooperative with the police? Could be he has something to hide.”

  “That did cross our minds. Will you do it?”

  She grinned. She knew Steve did not like Preston. Nothing personal, of course. He was just getting a little too close for comfort. She couldn’t believe asking her was an easy thing for him to do. “I can do that. What are they suggesting? Going on a date with him?”

  “Oh, no, that won’t be necessary. Just talk to him. Maybe have a cup of coffee at the pavilion. See if you can get him to open up about Dean. That’s all. Nothing more.”

  Willow laughed. “Oh, okay. I’ll go see him. After you show me the crime scene.”

  He held his hand out for her to lead the way.

  Willow walked outside the yellow crime scene tape, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Besides the red stain on the green grass, everything nearly looked normal. Nearly.

  “Steve, look at that patch of dirt. Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

  Steve knelt down. The dirt had those distinctive marks in it. The same as Dean’s face. “Some of these are deeper than others. I think we’re looking for more than one person. They all seem to be wearing the same kind of shoe.”

  Chapter 4

  Willow smiled at the big bulky guy sitting across from her then sipped her coffee. She hated flirting, especially with someone she had no intention of trying to get to know. Besides, it felt conniving and manipulative. Two things she had no interest in becoming. She went for the straight forward approach. “Tell me about Dean.”

  Preston shrugged then sighed. “What do you want to know?”

  “Well, tell me about him. His likes, his dislikes, his dreams and aspirations. His habits, both good and bad, his short comings. Tell me all about him. I want to feel like I really knew him.”

  Preston looked as though he was considering what to say. More importantly, what not to say. “My sister did the best she could with the boy.” He tipped his cup. “Still, nothing much worked. He was destined for trouble.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “She tried everything. Even had me take him on for a year or so, thinkin’ he needed a strong male role model. He just never took to bein’ the good Southern mama’s boy the South is known for producin’.”

  “I’ve noticed there are a lot of gentlemen in the South.”

  “There sure are. Our mamas wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “When you talk about trouble, what kind of trouble did he get himself into?”

  “Oh, let’s see. He has a youngin’. Not that Dean had much to do with the little guy. ‘Bout three years old now, I reckon.”

  “Is he still in a relationship with the little boy’s mom?”

  “No. As soon as he found out she was pregnant he hightailed it outta there.” Preston stroked his beard. “He had real talent playin’ baseball. Everyone said he was headed for the big time. Then he got mixed up in drugs and drinkin’ and he lost his scholarship. The judge gave him a real good deal though. He had to coach a local team of bad boys. It was his way of making sure Dean used his talent to make a difference, or so he hoped.”

  “You mean Dean has been working with kids who have gotten in trouble? Teaching them how to play baseball?”

  “Yeah, but he hadn’t committed like he should have. Sometimes he would show up, sometimes not. Depended on what else he had going on. The kids would be knocking at the door, wondering where he was. Even had some local businesses that sponsored the team, bought them uniforms, shoes, the whole nine yards. If I’m remembering right, Dean was called to go back before the judge. Not sure what happened. I’d have to ask my sister.”

  “Who do you think killed him?”

  Preston shook his head. “I don’t know. Could be a drug dealer, some girl’s jealous boyfriend, shoot—even the mad girlfriend. He’s made a lot of people mad. Ev
en me.”

  Willow tilted her head. “You? What did he do to you?”

  “He drained my checking account. All 52,233 dollars. I was saving to get my own food truck. Had it all planned out. Guess I gotta start over or give up. Haven’t decided yet.”

  “Any idea what he did with the money?”

  “An idea or a guess? With Dean, I could guess he bought stock in monkey toothbrushes and anyone who knew him wouldn’t even give it a second thought. If he wasn’t spending his money on drugs, he was always into some get rich quick scheme.”

  “What did he do for a living?”

  “He waited tables at Chilis.”

  “That’s a long way from playing professional baseball.”

  “You’re telling me. Some of the guys that were on his team are playing for the semi-pro team here in Oklahoma City. They could tell you more about his baseball playing days. A few of the guys have a camp a couple of rows over. They may have known him. If not, ask them where you can find Brian Wilson. Brian was also on the team and Dean’s best friend. Kind of a jerk, but hey, so was Dean. And maybe you should talk with the guys he was coaching. They’re a tough lot. Be careful.”

  Willow nodded her consent. So many people who had something against Dean. Why couldn’t this one be a cut and dried mugging? Wouldn’t that make things so much easier?

  Before Willow knew what was happening, Preston was standing before her singing for all the world to hear. Not that she could understand a word of it. Apparently the man liked opera. She endured one song then quickly retreated while onlookers clapped heartily.

  Willow ran through the information she had thus far. Bridget was somewhat of a mystery she had to get to the bottom of. She found out Bridget was a nurse at one of the local hospitals. She sure would like to question her co-workers but she highly doubted she would be able to talk Janie, or Embry for that matter, into going with her. Not after her last hospital fiasco. She’d have to do it on her own. She also made a mental note to talk to the members of both baseball teams. Perhaps they would know something useful. And then there was Brian. Sounded like they may have gotten into trouble together. He may be one to talk to. Unfortunately, even with the ever growing list of possible suspects, Preston was number one in her book. A person doesn’t just give up 50,000 dollars and walk away peacefully. At least not in her experience. Willow turned and looked over her shoulder as Preston bowed before the crowd. Maybe the opera wasn’t the only tragic story he’s familiar with.

  Chapter 5

  Willow adjusted her pink piggy cap and climbed the few stairs to the make shift stage. In spite of the dried out chicken and ribs, which Willow took full responsibility for ignoring the smoker during her shift, their team managed to get a runner’s up ribbon for their brisket and butt.

  From somewhere in the crowd, a loud, belting voice started singing something in Italian. Another opera song. He certainly looked the part but where does an Italian barbecue opera singing food truck wanna-be come from? And how in the world did she get lucky enough to have him fall for her?

  With a red face, she descended the stairs. Steve was having a hard time keeping the smile off his face. Embry didn’t even try. She was choking on her soda from laughing so hard.

  Her serenading love interest was now standing before her.

  “Sei la mia rosa.”

  Willow just stared. All her life she imagined having a good looking Italian whisper sweet nothings to her, the lull of the accent, the dark hair, the…southern accent mixed in? No way. She would never see the romance of the Italian language again, ever. Period. He ruined it. “I gotta go.”

  She nearly ran for their camp and began to tear down.

  Embry and Steve followed close behind.

  “Mom, that was priceless. Freaking awesome. I recorded the whole thing and put it on Facebook.”

  Willow came to an abrupt halt. “You did what? Take it down. I mean it, Embry. Take it down.”

  Embry fiddled with her phone. “I’ll take it down, I promise. But, it’ll have to be when I get home. I don’t have a good enough connection to sign in.”

  She was just serenaded by an opera-singing Southern boy in front of at least a thousand people. Now her daughter put it on Facebook. When will this day end?

  A war raged within Willow. One side was thrilled someone took the time to serenade her. The other side wished Steve had been the one to do so. Even though she knew he wasn’t the type. Not for that kind of public display. Wasn’t his nature.

  Their small caravan headed toward home, Steve led the way, Willow and Embry followed.

  “You’re awfully quiet.” Embry’s voice sliced through the quiet.

  Willow glanced at her daughter as she drove. The sun was setting and her eyes were hiding behind sunglasses. Her daughter was beautiful. Both inside and out. She had her whole life to live, dreams to chase, love to find, happiness to pursue. Willow didn’t want to speak of time lost and days gone by. Yet, who would warn her daughter if not her?

  Embry mistook her mother’s silence for being upset. “Mom, I’m sorry I posted the opera love scene. Really, I am.”

  “Oh honey, you know I’m not upset about that. I just, well, I have a lot on my mind.”

  “Let me guess. A certain someone driving the car in front of us?”

  “Am I that obvious?”

  “To me, yeah. I don’t think to him.”

  “That’s good. One minute, he’s acting jealous. The next, he’s laughing that some guy is singing Italian love songs to me. I don’t know what to think.”

  “Mom, give it time. Neither one of you are going anywhere.” Embry smirked. “You could always call Delilah. She would have some good advice for you.”

  Willow grinned. Her daughter didn’t necessarily dislike Delilah, it had more to do with the lack of music being played and all the talking. Secretly, Willow thought Embry hung on every piece of advice the radio personality gave regarding the subject of love. “I think I’ll leave that to you. Next time you need relationship advice, I’ll look up her number for you. Besides, I don’t need relationship advice. I simply don’t have one.” She squared her shoulders then said, “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m fine, really.” Then she changed the subject. “What I’d really like to do is talk to some of the baseball players that knew Dean. Perhaps they’ll know something that his uncle didn’t.”

  “I’m meeting Marshall for lunch tomorrow, do you want to join us?”

  Willow questioned her daughter. “Why would I want to intrude on your lunch, not that I don’t want to meet this young man you’re dating?”

  “Mom, I told you he played baseball.”

  “You did? When?”

  Embry sighed. “Mom, I think you’re going a little senile. I told you a couple of weeks ago I was dating a baseball player. He’s a nice guy, you’ll like him. Why don’t you come downtown tomorrow for lunch?”

  “Okay, I can do that. Where?”

  “There’s a little café right on Robinson. We’ll meet you there.” Embry promised to text the address to her mother.

  Willow kissed Embry’s cheek before she left and assured her she would be fine unloading without her. Embry had a couple of hours until she had to be at work and she still needed to shower and change, leaving little time for helping to unload. Murder often interrupted normal schedules.

  Steve helped Willow unload everything from her truck, wisely discerning she was upset about something therefore keeping his mouth tightly shut. It was good thinking on his part. For the life of him he had no idea what, but he did have a mother and a sister so he knew he didn’t have to understand, just go with it and be as sympathetic as possible. When she was good and ready, she would share. He’d learned something about women in his 40 odd years of living.

  Finally, everything was put in its proper spot and cleaned. He said, “I signed you up for a concealed-carry class at the range. They have several time slots available, just give them a call and let them know which one works best
for you.”

  “Oh, okay. Thanks.”

  He shifted from one foot to the other. “Do you want to go to the gun show this coming weekend?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

  “Great. Maybe we can get dinner afterward.”

  “Okay.” She walked him to his truck. He looked as though he wanted to say something then changed his mind and opened the driver’s side door. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow after I hear about the autopsy report.”

  “Oh, yeah, that would be good. Thanks.”

  He waved and backed out of her driveway.

  Willow gathered Clover who had been running around like a mad woman on steroids. Janie had taken good care of her baby while she had been gone. It was already after five and her stomach was rumbling. She hadn’t eaten since earlier that morning when she’d made eggs for her little band of barbecuers. She looked through her fridge. Nothing. Cupboard. Again, nothing. She went for the freezer and came out with a pint of rocky road. “This’ll do.”

  She settled on the couch and put in her favorite movie, A Good Year. “Someday,” she whispered as she hugged Clover’s neck.

  Chapter 6

  Willow had to park several blocks away from the downtown Oklahoma City café she’d agreed to meet Marshall and Embry for lunch. She took one look at her heavy purse and tucked it under the front seat of her Jeep. She wasn’t carrying that thing through the city streets when she had to walk as far as she did. She put her credit card and her phone in her back pocket and her keys in her front pocket. She groaned as she looked at her McDonald’s coffee cup. The night before had been a late one. She’d spent most of it whining to her dog about how unfair life was. At least Clover was a good listener. She also liked the taste of tears, which proved very beneficial. By the time she awoke, the sun was nearly straight above the house, which meant if she didn’t get a move on, she was going to be late for lunch. Not making a good impression on Embry’s new boyfriend was not an option. Therefore, instead of a leisurely cup of coffee with the paper, she found herself going through the drive-up for her daily dose of caffeine.