by Mak K. Han
Alex screamed. Emily screamed. I screamed. The centrifugal force had us pressed against the left side of the car. Had Emily and Alex not been wearing seat belts, Emily would have been in my lap and Alex would have been in George's. George had been thrown against the window, dropping the knife in the process.
The landscape was a green and gray blur whizzing past the windshield. The car spun two times. Three times. Four. I could see the guardrail approaching and a split second later I was looking in the opposite direction. George was in the back, struggling to regain his balance. Alex popped open her seat belt and tackled him.
The car thudded against the guard rail. I was dizzy, but cognizant enough to know what had to be done. I reached over and opened Emily's seat belt.
“Now!” I yelled at Emily and Alex.
Emily pulled open her box of cupcakes and threw herself over the center console, complete with a high pitched battle cry. “Take that!” She said, mashing a cupcake into his eye.
“Gah!” He cried out, his arms flailing. “I'm going to kill all of you right here!” He screamed.
Alex pounced on him with renewed vigor, swatting him in the face with both hands. She reached for one of her shirts and as George flailed, she tangled up his hands in it. All three of us descended on him now, bashing on him with clenched fists. He leaned forward and covered his head to protect it. I used it as an opportunity to pull his hands behind his back. Alex made a makeshift rope out of her t-shirt and tied them at the wrist.
I picked up the knife. “I'll hold onto this,” I said. “Let's go.”
The driver's side of the car was flush against the guard rail so the three of us had to pile out the passenger side. My heart was beating a thousand miles an hour and my hands were shaking. I panted for breath. Emily, pale faced, retreated to the side of the shoulder and got sick. Alex and I braced ourselves against the door while George attempted to kick his way out of the vehicle.
A car pulled onto the shoulder. Its driver climbed out. It was Kevin Drake.
“Kevin,” I said. “Funny, we were just talking about you.”
“Are you okay? I saw you guys hydroplane. Who's in there?”
“George. George killed Jeannie.” I looked to Emily as she wiped her mouth. “Call Sheriff Caldwell. We need help.”
“George?” Kevin asked. “How did you find out?”
“He said you'd killed her,” I explained. “I knew that was impossible. You were out of state on Thursday night.”
“Let me out of this!” George cried from inside the car. “You three are going to share a grave with Jeannie, I'll see to it!”
“Can you help us with this?” I asked as George kicked again, nearly knocking Alex and I to the pavement. Kevin, who was a bit bigger than Alex and I, leaned against the door. With our combined weight, George's efforts were useless.
“Maybe you just sit in there and relax,” Kevin said. “We'll let Sheriff Caldwell sort this all out.”
I took a deep breath and leaned against Kevin's car, trying to calm myself. George was under control. Emily was on the phone with the Sheriff.
It was over.
Chapter 21
Watching Sheriff Caldwell push George into his cruiser had been a relief.
I'd been worried that we didn't have enough evidence to send George to jail. When Sheriff Caldwell showed up, however, George had been so overwhelmed with emotion that he'd admitted to killing Jeannie.
Between our testimonies and his admission to Sheriff Caldwell, it seemed pretty clear: George was going away for a long time.
Suffice to say, Tim had second thoughts about handing the company over to George after he was arrested. He wasn't worried about George falling in love with people who might undermine the company anymore; now he was worried about him killing business rivals.
Needless to say, that was a lousy business strategy, and Tim didn't want the good name of Hayfield Construction sullied.
Kevin Drake had been in Dallas to interview for a new job. Apparently he got the job because he left Strawberry Shores about a week later and hasn't been back since. As far as I know, he's started a new organization—the CBD, Citizens for a Beautiful Dallas. Dana doesn't seem to miss him too much. I knew Dana had originally suspected Kevin as the murderer, but we never spoke of it again. It seemed like Dana felt guilty about it. I didn't think she had anything to be guilty about; at the height of the crisis, everyone had suspected everyone else in Strawberry Shores.
Tim Hayfield finished the construction project. After Jeannie's murder, we'd been distracted by the case, but Tim had been clearing the land and laying the groundwork for Bonnie's new establishment. As it turns out, Dana had been wrong—it wasn't a restaurant, it was a café. Bonnie named it the Catalpa Café after the tree that had once stood there. When Emily heard Bonnie was looking for pastry cooks, she applied that same day—and now makes her cupcakes for the Catalpa Café.
As for me? Everything's gone back to normal. I, along with Alex and Emily, have been vindicated.
Not to mention, now I have a new book to write: Murder in Tomato Town 2. I started work on it the night I got back from the police station, after we'd caught George.
About a week after the car crash, Tina came into the library and asked if I was still interested in being an Energy Therapist. I thought of telling her no, but then again, the identity helped me to get to people without arousing suspicion.
Did I think there was going to be another murder? No. But you never know.
I'd been wrong before.
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Strawberry Shores Mystery Series:
Bound To Die: A Cozy Mystery (Book 1)
Excerpt from Bound To Die:
“What a jerk! Who does that guy think he is?”
Susan put her hands on my arms. “Laura, calm down—”
I shook off Susan's grip. “I've never been so humiliated in my entire life! Who does he think he is?”
“Laura, calm down.” Susan maneuvered me to the seat behind the counter. “That's Edward Brooks. You're right, he is a jerk. Don't take it personally.”
I was fuming. “I don’t know what I’ll do the next time I see him.”
Susan chuckled. “I'd advise against that. He's one of the library trustees. Spit in his face and you can kiss this job goodbye. Don't worry though. Sooner or later he'll get what's coming to him.”
I took a few deep breaths. My hands were still shaking, but not as badly. I closed my eyes, pushed away the negativity, and when I opened them again Daniel was standing there. He was a big balding guy with a beer belly, dressed in a pair of paint-spotted jeans and a stained white t-shirt.
“The mouse traps are reset,” he said. “Now about this room?”
Susan nodded at the door. “It's out back. I'll show you.” She looked at me. “Are you going to be okay? You're not going to go homicidal, are you?” she asked with a grin.
“No, I'm fine,” I said, brushing her away.
Susan stood and started for the door. I rubbed my forehead and glanced at the clock. Four. Just an hour–
“Excuse me?” a male voice interrupted my countdown to getting off work.
I squeaked and spun around in my chair. Since when was there someone else in the library?
&n
bsp; He was a handsome guy, around my age, with wavy blond hair. From the looks of his arms in his tight shirt he worked out. When he smiled it was like staring into the bulb of a spotlight. “Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.”
I leaned forward, thumping my elbow on the desk and setting my chin in my upturned palm. With my free hand I brushed the hair out of my eyes. “No, it's fine. I mean, you didn't scare me. I mean…hi. Can I help you?”
“I'm Harold,” he said, handing a book over to me. “I'd like to check this out?”
“Sure. No problem.” Without looking down to see what I was doing I groped around for the barcode scanner and then waved it around under the laser until I heard it beep.
“So, what's all the excitement? Why was everyone here earlier?”
“We—I found a secret room under the library.” I heard the computer bleep. It was telling me when the book was due. Without taking my eyes off Harold, I hit the keyboard a couple of times until I hit the 'Enter' key. “Here,” I said, handing him the book. “It's due sometime. Do you want to see the secret room?”
Harold smiled. “Well, I wasn’t—”
“Are you sure? It's really cool. There are books dating back to 1998. Er, 1778.”
Harold chuckled again. “Sure, I guess.”
For the second time that day, the library front desk went unattended. I lead Harold out of the library and around to the back. Daniel had already blocked off the door with caution tape and set up his work space—a tool box sat near the door and with it a radio. “Ring of Fire” by Johnny Cash was playing. Susan was standing nearby with a man in a suit.
“Can we go in?” I asked Daniel. “Just real quick.”
Daniel shook his head. “Sorry, sweetheart, I got orders from Mr. Shade. I'm supposed to keep this blocked off until we figure out what we're going to do with it.”
“Come on, Daniel,” Susan piped up. “The room belongs to all of us. And we're not going to screw around with anything—I just want to show it to Chester. He didn't get a chance to see it earlier.”
Daniel was resolute. His head shook and didn't stop.
Scowling, Susan turned away from Daniel. That was when she spotted Harold and me. “Oh. Hi, Laura. Hi, Harold. Who's watching the desk?”
“There's no way in?” I asked Susan. I could feel my cheeks growing hot. I'd promised to show Harold the secret room—this didn't seem like a great way to start out friendship.
“Daniel won't let us. By the way, this is Chester Rutherford.” Susan gestured to the guy standing next to her. He stepped forward and extended his hand. His eyes, a dark shade of hazel, seemed to cut through me as his gaze met mine. “Hi, Chester Rutherford.”
I shook his hand. “Nice to meet you. I'm surprised you didn't see it earlier.”
Chester shrugged. “I had to work late. I work at Allied Innovation. Usually I work from midnight to noon, but today I had to work until 3:30.”
I scrunched my nose. “That's a weird schedule.”
Chester chuckled. “Yeah, it is. But, rumor has it, Mr. Brooks is retiring soon. Once he's out of the way, I'm a shoo-in for management. Then I make my own hours.”
I opened my mouth to ask about Mr. Brooks when Harold cried out beside me. I turned. “Huh? What's the matter?”
Harold was looking down. “Sorry. I stepped on a nail.”
I scanned the ground. I didn't see any nails. I did see a mouse, probably displaced by Daniel, scurrying toward the woods. “Are you afraid of mice?” I asked him.
Harold swung around, scandalized. “Are you serious?” he asked coolly. “Me? Afraid of a stupid mouse? No way.”
I heard static. I almost didn't hear it at first. But, I'd been hearing it for the last ten years—ever since the — and it had a very distinctive, unmistakable sound to it. I tried not to giggle aloud as I thought about big, tough Harold afraid of mice.
“In any case, I have to get going. Thanks for the book.”
I hopped after him. “Do you want me to walk you to your car?”
Harold shook his head. “I think I'll make it on my own,” he laughed and disappeared around the corner.
I turned to face Chester and Susan. They too were on their way back. Chester paid me no attention, but as she passed, Susan gave me a glance.
“Shut up,” I said as I fell a step behind her.
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