A Time to Swill
Page 1
Praise for Sell Low, Sweet Harriet
“An incredibly enjoyable book.” —Mystery Scene
“Canny hints for garage-sale success blend nicely with two difficult mysteries for the intrepid heroine to unravel.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Harris has carved out a name for herself in the cozy mystery world with her engaging, humorous Sarah Winston mysteries.”
—Washington Independent Review of Books
Praise for Let’s Fake a Deal
“Who knew organizing garage sales could be a dangerous occupation?”
—Kirkus Reviews
“I just love Sherry Harris’s Garage Sale series. It’s provocative, well-written, and always entertaining.”
—Suspense Magazine
Praise for The Gun Also Rises
“A roller-coaster of a mystery penned by a real pro. This series just gets better and better. More, please!”
—Suspense Magazine
“Author Sherry Harris never disappoints with her strong, witty writing voice and her ability to use the surprise effect just when you think you have it all figured out!”
—Chatting About Cozies
“This series gets better with every book, and The Gun Also Rises continues the trend. If you haven’t started this series yet, do yourself a favor and buy the first one today.”
—Carstairs Considers
Praise for I Know What You Bid Last Summer
“I Know What You Bid Last Summer is cleverly plotted, with an engaging cast of characters and a clever premise that made me think twice about my shopping habits. Check it out.”
—Suspense Magazine
“Never one to give up, she [Sarah] continues her hunt for the killer in some unlikely and possibly dangerous places. Fans of Harris will appreciate both the clever mystery and the tips for buying and selling at garage sales.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Each time a new Sarah Winston Garage Sale Mystery releases, I wonder how amazing author Sherry Harris will top the previous book she wrote for the series. I’m never disappointed, and my hat’s off to Ms. Harris, who consistently raises the bar for her readers’ entertainment.”
—Chatting About Cozies
Praise for A Good Day to Buy
“Sarah’s life keeps throwing her new curves as the appearance of her estranged brother shakes up her world. This fast-moving mystery starts off with a bang and keeps the twists and turns coming. Sarah is a likable protagonist who sometimes makes bad decisions based on good intentions. This ups the action and drama as she tries to extricate herself from dangerous situations with some amusing results. Toss in a unique cast of secondary characters, an intriguing mystery, and a hot ex-husband, and you’ll find there’s never a dull moment in Sarah’s bargain-hunting world.”
—RT Book Reviews, 4 Stars
“Harris’s fourth is a slam dunk for those who love antiques and garage sales. The knotty mystery has an interesting premise and some surprising twists and turns as well.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“The mystery of the murder in A Good Day to Buy, the serious story behind Luke’s reappearance, the funny scenes that lighten the drama, the wonderful cast of characters, and Sarah’s always superb internal dialogue, will keep you turning the pages and have you coming back for book #5.”
—Nightstand Book Reviews
Praise for All Murders Final!
“There’s a lot going on in this charming mystery, and it all works. The dialogue flows effortlessly, and the plot is filled with numerous twists and turns. Sarah is a resourceful and appealing protagonist, supported by a cast of quirky friends. Well written and executed, this is a definite winner. Bargain-hunting has never been so much fun!”
—RT Book Reviews, 4 Stars
“A must read cozy mystery! Don’t wear your socks when you read this story ’cause it’s gonna knock ’em off!”
—Chatting About Cozies
“Just because Sherry Harris’s protagonist Sarah Winston lives in a small town, it doesn’t mean that her problems are small . . . Harris fits the puzzle pieces together with a sure hand.” —Sheila Connolly, Agatha- and Anthony-nominated author of the Orchard Mysteries
“A thrilling mystery . . . Brilliantly written, each chapter drew me in deeper and deeper, my anticipation mounting with every turn of the page. By the time I reached the last page, all I could say was . . . wow!”
—Lisa Ks Book Reviews
Praise for The Longest Yard Sale
“I love a complex plot and The Longest Yard Sale fills the bill with mysterious fires, a missing painting, thefts from a thrift shop and, of course, murder. Add an intriguing cast of victims, potential villains and sidekicks, an interesting setting, and two eligible men for the sleuth to choose between and you have a sure winner even before you get to the last page and find yourself laughing out loud.”
—Kaitlyn Dunnett, author of The Scottie Barked at Midnight
“Readers will have a blast following Sarah Winston on her next adventure as she hunts for bargains and bad guys. Sherry Harris’s latest is as delightful as the best garage sale find!”
—Liz Mugavero, Agatha-nominated author of the Pawsitively Organic Mysteries
“Sherry Harris is a gifted storyteller, with plenty of twists and adventures for her smart and stubborn protagonist.”
—Beth Kanell, Kingdom Books
“Once again Sherry Harris entwines small-town life with that of the nearby Air Force base, yard sales with romance, art theft with murder. The story is a bargain, and a priceless one!”
—Edith Maxwell, Agatha-nominated author of the Local Foods mystery series
Praise for Tagged for Death
“Tagged for Death is skillfully rendered, with expert characterization and depiction of military life. Best of all Sarah is the type of intelligent, resourceful, and appealing person we would all like to get to know better!”
—Mystery Scene Magazine
“Full of garage-sale tips, this amusing cozy debut introduces an unusual protagonist who has overcome some recent tribulations and become stronger.”
—Library Journal
“A terrific find! Engaging and entertaining, this clever cozy is a treasure—charmingly crafted and full of surprises.”
—Hank Phillippi Ryan, Agatha-, Anthony- and Mary Higgins Clark-award-winning author
“Like the treasures Sarah Winston finds at the garage sales she loves, this book is a gem.”
—Barbara Ross, Agatha-nominated author of the Maine Clambake Mysteries
“It was masterfully done. Tagged for Death is a winning debut that will have you turning pages until you reach the final one. I’m already looking forward to Sarah’s next bargain with death.”
—Mark Baker, Carstairs Considers
Mysteries by Sherry Harris
The Chloe Jackson Sea Glass Saloon Mysteries
FROM BEER TO ETERNITY
A TIME TO SWILL
The Sarah Winston Garage Sale Mysteries
ABSENCE OF ALICE
SELL LOW, SWEET HARRIET
LET’S FAKE A DEAL
THE GUN ALSO RISES
I KNOW WHAT YOU BID LAST SUMMER
A GOOD DAY TO BUY
ALL MURDERS FINAL!
THE LONGEST YARD SALE
And
Agatha-Nominated Best First Novel
TAGGED FOR DEATH
A Time to Swirl
Sherry Harris
www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Praise
Also by
Title Page
Copyright Page
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
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Teaser chapter
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2021 by Sherry Harris
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
The K logo is a trademark of Kensington Publishing Corp.
ISBN: 978-1-4967-2304-8
ISBN-13: 978-1-4967-2306-2 (ebook)
ISBN-10: 1-4967-2306-6 (ebook)
To Bob
The perfect man, at least the perfect man for me
and to Clare
The Angel on my Shoulder, I miss you
Heritage Businesses
Sea Glass—owner, Vivi Jo Slidell
Briny Pirate—owner, Wade Thomas
Redneck Rollercoaster—owner, Ralph Harrison
Russo’s Grocery Store—owner, Fred Russo
Hickle Glass Bottom Boat—owners, Edith Hickle, Leah Hickle, Oscar Hickle
Emerald Cove Fishing Charters—owner, Jed Farwell
CHAPTER 1
My shoes slapped the wet sand as I tried to make out what was up ahead of me through the swirling fog. I’d just arrived back in Emerald Cove, Florida, late last night. I’d driven through a dense fog the last thirty miles. When the advisory popped up on my phone, I’d thought, how bad could it be? Very bad was the answer. I’d crept along. Driving through gumbo would have been preferable. My hands still ached this morning from gripping the steering wheel of my vintage red Volkswagen Beetle.
I’d planned to sleep in. To unpack my worldly goods, which filled my car. Emptying my old life in Chicago into my new life in the Florida panhandle. But loud, angry waves pounding outside my two-bedroom beach house had other plans, so I’d gotten up, pulled on my running gear, and set out just before dawn. I squinted my eyes, but the fog danced and shifted like flowing Arabian head scarves, changing the view. There. There it was again, thirty yards ahead.
It looked like the mast of a sailboat angled oddly. Way too low for a boat to be upright. I tried to speed up, but the sand pulled at my shoes like wet hands trying to drag me under. Usually I found hard sand to run on, but this morning I hadn’t found any. A groan and a creak floated across the air. The sound wasn’t one I normally heard on the runs I’d taken to over the summer months. No one else seemed to be out. But the early hour and fog explained that.
The fog opened up just long enough for me to see a massive sailboat, listing to its side bobbing on the water.
“Hello?” I called as I got closer. I ran my hand through my short, brown hair. It curled wildly in this humidity. The boat was between the two sand bars that ran along this stretch of beach. The groan and creak seemed to be coming from the boat. A muffled cry sounded from inside the boat. A baby’s cry. I whipped out my cell phone and dialed 911.
I thought of Julia Spencer-Fleming’s opening line in In the Bleak Midwinter. “It was one hell of a night to throw away a baby.” A terrible morning here.
“Where’s your emergency?”
“Delores.” Thank heavens it was someone I knew. “This is Chloe Jackson.”
“What’s wrong, honey? I didn’t know you were back.” Delores’s voice was sweeter than the Mile High Pecan Pie she served at her diner when she wasn’t working as a dispatcher.
“There’s a sailboat that seems abandoned. It’s stuck between the two sandbars. I heard a baby cry.”
“Where are you?”
“The fog’s so thick I’m not sure. I left my cottage about seven minutes ago and ran west toward Vivi’s house. But I can’t tell if I’m to her house yet or not.”
“Okay, well, stay put while I get someone from the Walton County Sheriff’s Department out there.”
“Will do.” I hung up and shouted again, “Anyone here?” I peered at the boat. The cry sounded again and tugged at my heart. I noticed a rope ladder dangling off the back end. It was like fate was telling me not to let the baby wait alone. I took off my shoes and dropped my key ring with its Chicago key chain in the toe of one of them. It looked like high tide, but I wasn’t certain. I ran up the beach a few yards and left my shoes so they wouldn’t get wet. There were marks in the sand like the boat had been farther up onshore.
I splashed through the water until it was waist deep and swam the last bit. I tried to keep my phone out of the water doing an awkward, one-armed stroke and kicking hard with my legs. The boat was farther out than I’d originally thought. It tilted up a bit, but I managed to catch the rope ladder and scramble up. As I boarded, a wave smacked the boat. It knocked me off my feet and I landed on my rear end, jolting every bone in my body. My phone flew out of my hand. I grabbed at it in midair but missed. A plop sounded in the water.
“No, no, no.” The boat righted itself and I slid across the deck. My shoulder slammed into the side of the boat. Ouch! I gritted my teeth together. Another bounce, and it tipped precariously away from the sandbar. I clutched the side, managed to stay on the deck, and clung. The crying got louder, but now it didn’t sound as much like a baby as it had from the shore. An animal perhaps? The boat began to move away from the shore and out to sea. What had I done?
CHAPTER 2
“Help,” I yelled toward the shore. But the fog wrapped around my words and muffled them. No one yelled back. The boat moved quickly, probably caught up in a rip current. I eyed what bit of water I could see through the fog. Jumping in and trying to swim out of the current didn’t seem smart, even though I was an excellent swimmer. I could become disoriented in the fog. The boat lurched in the waves. If I jumped, I couldn’t be sure the boat wouldn’t change direction and run me down.
The only thing worse than jumping in would be being tossed overboard. The boat tipped and tilted like the carnival rides I loved as a kid. Then there was the cry to think of. I couldn’t abandon a baby if there was one. Moving would be perilous, but not moving wasn’t an option.
A door that must lead to the cabin below banged open and closed with the motion of the waves. I eyed the distance. Standing would be foolish, but maybe I could slide over on
my stomach. A wave pitched, I let loose. For a second I thought I was going in, but the boat rocked the other way. I took advantage and slid and scooted to the door. It banged shut behind me as I rolled down five steps, landing on the floor of the interior.
It took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the dim light that came through narrow, rectangular windows. I was in a living room, dining room, kitchen combo. The boat was a mess, with trash and clothing on the floor. The cry came from a room to my left. I stood and careened toward a door, staggering worse than any drunk I’d ever seen. I pushed on the partially opened door. A gray cat with long, white socks leaped off a bed and into my arms.
Not a baby, then. A cat. The boat pitched and we landed on the bed. I rubbed my cheek against the cat’s head. “So, you’re the one who caused me all this trouble.” If not for the cry, I’d still be onshore. And my phone wouldn’t be dead in the water. Literally. The cat purred and settled into my arms. The prudent thing seemed to try to wait out the waves down here now.