Praise for the Cherry Tucker Mystery Series
Books in the Cherry Tucker Mystery Series
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Copyright
Dedication
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
About the Author
Books in the Cherry Tucker Mystery Series
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MURDER ON A SILVER PLATTER
MACDEATH
THE AMBITIOUS CARD
Praise for the Cherry Tucker Mystery Series
THE BODY IN THE LANDSCAPE (#5)
“Cherry Tucker is a strong, sassy, Southern sleuth who keeps you on the edge of your seat. She’s back in action in The Body in the Landscape with witty banter, Southern charm, plenty of suspects, and dead bodies—you will not be disappointed!”
– Tonya Kappes,
USA Today Bestselling Author
“Anyone who likes humorous mysteries will also enjoy local author Larissa Reinhart, who captures small town Georgia in the laugh-out-loud escapades of struggling artist Cherry Tucker.”
– Fayette Woman Magazine
DEATH IN PERSPECTIVE (#4)
“One fasten-your-seatbelt, pedal-to-the-metal mystery, and Cherry Tucker is the perfect sleuth to have behind the wheel. Smart, feisty, as tough as she is tender, Cherry’s got justice in her crosshairs.”
– Tina Whittle,
Author of the Tai Randolph Mysteries
“Artist and accidental detective Cherry Tucker goes back to high school and finds plenty of trouble and skeletons…Reinhart’s charming, sweet-tea flavored series keeps getting better!”
– Gretchen Archer,
USA Today Bestselling Author of the Davis Way Crime Caper Series
HIJACK IN ABSTRACT (#3)
“Bust out your gesso and get primed for humor, hijackings, and a handful of hunks!”
– Diane Vallere,
Author of the Style & Error and Madison Night Mysteries
“The fast-paced plot careens through small-town politics and deadly rivalries, with zany side trips through art-world shenanigans and romantic hijinx. Like front-porch lemonade, Reinhart’s cast of characters offer a perfect balance of tart and sweet.”
– Sophie Littlefield,
Bestselling Author of A Bad Day for Sorry
STILL LIFE IN BRUNSWICK STEW (#2)
“Reinhart’s country-fried mystery is as much fun as a ride on the tilt-a-whirl at a state fair. Her sleuth wields a paintbrush and unravels clues with equal skill and flair. Readers who like a little small-town charm with their mysteries will enjoy Reinhart’s series.”
– Denise Swanson,
New York Times Bestselling Author of the Scumble River Mysteries
“The hilariously droll Larissa Reinhart cooks up a quirky and entertaining page-turner! This charming mystery is delightfully Southern, surprisingly edgy, and deliciously unpredictable.”
– Hank Phillippi Ryan,
Agatha Award-Winning Author of Truth Be Told
PORTRAIT OF A DEAD GUY (#1)
“Portrait of a Dead Guy is an entertaining mystery full of quirky characters and solid plotting…Highly recommended for anyone who likes their mysteries strong and their mint juleps stronger!”
– Jennie Bentley,
New York Times Bestselling Author of Flipped Out
“Reinhart is a truly talented author and this book was one of the best cozy mysteries we reviewed this year.”
– Mystery Tribune
“This is a winning series that continues to grow stronger and never fails to entertain with laughs, a little snark, and a ton of heart.”
– Kings River Life Magazine
Books in the Cherry Tucker Mystery Series
by Larissa Reinhart
Novels
PORTRAIT OF A DEAD GUY (#1)
STILL LIFE IN BRUNSWICK STEW (#2)
HIJACK IN ABSTRACT (#3)
DEATH IN PERSPECTIVE (#4)
THE BODY IN THE LANDSCAPE (#5)
A COMPOSITION IN MURDER (#6)
Novellas
QUICK SKETCH (prequel to PORTRAIT)
(in HEARTACHE MOTEL)
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Copyright
A COMPOSITION IN MURDER
A Cherry Tucker Mystery
Part of the Henery Press Mystery Collection
First Edition
Trade paperback edition | November 2016
Henery Press
www.henerypress.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including Internet usage, without written permission from Henery Press, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Copyright © 2016 by Larissa Hoffman
Author photograph by Scott Asano
This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Trade Paperback ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-113-2
Digital epub ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-114-9
Kindle ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-115-6
Hardcover Paperback ISBN-13: 978-1-63511-116-3
Printed in the United States of America
Dedication
To Sonja and Bob, thanks for all your love and support
& all your stories about Etta and Sadie.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Arbor Terrace Peachtree City, thank you so much for the tour and stories about your senior living residence. You have a beautiful facility and only the amenities influenced me. All the criminal ideas came from my head.
Kristine Zepf, thanks so much for your help with what drugs to use to kill off my elderly victims. Debbie Krenzer, congrats on winning the Minion drawing
and I hope seeing your name as the director of Halo House puts a smile on your face. I’m sure you don’t drink that much coffee. Pat Werths, Ruth Barrineau-Brooks, and Julie Hallberg, I appreciate your choices in ringtones. Thanks for the help! And thank you to all the Mystery Minions for your support and encouragement. Love y’all!
Thank you to the Henery Press editors, Kendel, Erin, Anna, and Rachel, and to Art for everything you do.
A huge thank you to my family. Gina, Bill, Hailey and Lily for letting me use your house as a post office and for all your support. Mom for being a second set of eyes. To the Funks, Reinharts, and Hoffmans for spreading the book love. And especially to Trey, Sophie, and Luci for bringing me such joy.
One
In a small town, someone invariably has an eye on your back. Also your front, middle, and every other body part. You just don’t always know whose eye is doing the watching. That sort of scrutiny should make you more careful. Emphasis on should. I’d never taken much to “should’ves,” having been more of a “get ’er done” type of gal. Although now I was paying for it.
That piper called an hour before “Art with Miss Cherry”—a name that made me wonder if Miss Krenzer knew I was teaching senior citizens and not kindergartners. Krenzer caught me in front of Halo House’s lobby fountain. Not that I was doing anything wrong. Lately, I’m often found sitting on the cushioned bench of that particular fountain with my friends. Chatting and sipping our drink of choice. Back when I attended SCAD, I did the same thing with my art school peeps on one of Savannah’s many fountains. Except we weren’t drinking weak coffee.
I’d rather not say what we were drinking, but it was Savannah after all.
From the reception desk, Miss Krenzer leaned forward, spied me, and waved me over. After a quick round of elbow nudges, winks, and “now you’ve done it” from the seniors, I strolled to the front desk.
“Cherry, I got a call from Belvia Brakeman. Do you know her?”
“She’s not one of my students, but of course, I know who she is. I love Meemaw’s Tea. Grandma Jo always made her own sweet tea, but I think buying a jug is handy. Particularly for those of us who tend to forget the stove’s on while we’re painting.”
“We’re very fortunate to have such an astute businesswoman as Mrs. Brakeman living at Halo House.” Miss Krenzer’s smile shrank. “However, Mrs. Brakeman needs something of a more personal nature. Her daughter, Della Brakeman, recently passed.”
“Hit and run while jogging. Terrible, terrible way to go. I don’t condone jogging—not partial to it—but I was truly sorry to hear jogging took her life. Sixty is way too young, and that’s speaking as a twenty-six-year-old.” I shook my head. “My intel says Della Brakeman even wore the appropriate reflector tape accessories as she ran down Highway 34.”
“Intel?”
“My…” I considered an appropriate description for Luke. “My friend, Luke Harper, is a deputy working on the investigation. Not that he’s told me anything I didn’t read in the paper. My friends at Halo House have told me more. With Della Brakeman in charge of operations and soon to take over as CEO of Meemaw’s Tea, it’s made a splash in the local news. And my buddies sure love local news. Particularly the one that’s on before Jeopardy.”
Krenzer glanced at the fountain where my friends waited, craning their necks and trying to hear our conversation. They couldn’t. Among their age bracket, hearing doesn’t tend to be a strength.
However, gossip was. More like a superpower than strength.
“Mrs. Brakeman specifically said to send you and another staff member. Someone discreet. I’m entrusting Jose from maintenance. You’re not who I’d choose for the job…” She shot another look at my cohorts. Krenzer knew their superpowers and considered me guilty through their association. Couldn’t argue that logic, as I did enjoy their superpowers. “But it’s Belvia Brakeman,” she continued. “You don’t question her.”
“Job?” I toned down the excitement in my voice. “I’ll keep my mouth shut. And I won’t say a thing about jogging to Mrs. Brakeman. I only said it to you, because I thought you’d agree about the perils of jogging.”
She cast a look at her midsection.
I scrambled to cover my gaffe. “I understand privacy and sensitivity. I may only be a part-time drawing teacher, but I have come to feel Halo House is more than a speed bump in my portrait painting career. Premiere independent living is something I’ve grown to admire and respect. Halo House has become my home away from home.”
“You do spend a considerable amount of time here. I worried we’d become an escape from your personal problems. But I’m glad to hear you’re supportive of our mission.”
Unsure of Halo House’s mission, I held up a paint-stained hand. “Don’t say another word. Let me help you on your other mission. The one for Belvia Brakeman.”
“It’s simple. She’s written a new will and needs two witnesses to watch her sign it. It’s all perfectly legal. But you can see why it’s a delicate situation.”
“A will? Shouldn’t she wait for her lawyer?”
“Belvia Brakeman is…” Krenzer cut her eyes toward my friends and lowered her voice. “At ninety, she’s still a whip-smart and savvy CEO who happens to run a corporation from her apartment suite in my facility. She’s also endowed us with special funds for programs such as yours. Let’s just do what she wants.”
“Good idea.”
“Her daughter, Coralee, is with her now. She’ll assist you. I need to stay at the desk.”
“I didn’t realize she had more than one child. That must be a comfort to Miss Belvia. Does Coralee work for the family company too?”
Krenzer’s lips thinned. “No. Coralee just arrived this morning with her family. They live in the Midwest. You better get going.”
“Yes, ma’am. You can count on me.”
“Just sign and get out. It’s important that Belvia not feel hassled.”
“The last thing I’d ever want to do is hassle someone who’s just lost a loved one. Especially a sweet little ninety-year-old blind woman.”
“Belvia Brakeman may be ninety and blind, but never call her sweet or little. Particularly to her face.”
This diplomacy thing would be trickier than I thought.
Because the residents glutted the already slow elevators, I took the grand, front staircase. Belvia Brakeman resided in a two-bedroom suite near the bank of elevators on the second floor. Because of her fame, I always glanced that way, hoping to get a peek at the Queen of Sweet Tea. Today a man in creased khakis and a Halo House polo stood beside the door. When he wasn’t glancing at his watch, he glanced at a clipboard.
“Hey, Jose,” I said. “Miss Krenzer sent me up.”
He smiled. “Hey, Cherry. I got a leaky bathtub to get at. Let’s hope this doesn’t take too long.”
“Kind of exciting, right?”
He rolled his eyes. “In my time here, I’ve done this plenty. Georgia law says just two witnesses make it legal. And folks here change their minds all the time over who gets the family china and whatnot.”
“That’s disturbing. And sad.”
Jose shrugged. “For some, it’s the only way to get family to visit. Threaten to cut them from a will and they come running. I feel sorry for the residents.”
“I can’t imagine not visiting Pearl and my Grandpa Ed. And there’s nothing to leave in a will. Pearl’s not even blood kin.”
“Maybe when you’re rich it’s harder to get your kids to like you.”
“You’re probably right there.” I thought of JB Branson, the town patriarch and step-daddy to my secret Deputy Sweetheart, Luke. If JB were my relation, it’d probably take a hell of a lot of money to make me want to visit him. Not a good feeling when you’re figuring out a relationship with the stepson.
“Let’s get this done.”
We rang the bell. A young woman answered and was shouldered aside by an older woman wearing a Peruvian alpaca motif sweater and flowing alpaca printed pants. Dangling chandelier earrings also sported alpacas. I glanced at my cropped sweater featuring 3-D pompon polka-dots and pompon-fringed corduroy shorts. Chewed my lip and wondered if alpacas were in my destiny.
“Mother said she called someone.” She looked at Jose. “Do you speak English?”
“Usually,” said Jose.
“You have to understand English for this.”
“I’ll do my best, ma’am.”
“What about you?” She eyeballed me. “Who are you?”
“Cherry Tucker, the art foundations teacher. Are you Miss Coralee? Mrs. Brakeman’s daughter? So sorry for your loss. Your sister—”
“Yes, thank you. We just need you to watch Mother sign the will, sign it yourselves, and then you’re done. That’s all we need to make this legal. As long as you’re not named in the will?”
“I wouldn’t know, ma’am,” I said. “But considering I don’t know Mrs. Brakeman, I sincerely doubt it.”
Jose nodded.
“Good,” said Coralee.
We entered the small foyer and into a living area, furnished with mahogany and cherry pieces. Classy and uncluttered, like an attorney’s waiting room. Without the knickknacks and memorabilia usually seen in the residents’ homes.
A Composition in Murder (A Cherry Tucker Mystery Book 6) Page 1