“She was wrong,” Geoff said. “She ought to watch more CSI.”
“So what happens to Ken and the governor?” Peggy asked.
“If that water report ever sees the light of day, Ken and the governor will swear they weren’t trying to suppress the report. Oh, no.” Amos rolled his eyes. “They merely wanted to clean up their side of the site before they released it. No way did anyone threaten Hiram or offer him a bribe.“
“And the state will go along with this?” Peggy asked.
“You bet.”
“So the governor slides by again, and so does that snake Ken.”
“Not so,” Geoff said. “Either the governor and his cronies will have to clean up the water table and remove the polluted soil, which will cost a bundle. The one thing the Gov hates more than Mossy Creek is losing money on one of his real estate deals.”
“Wait until all the Gov’s buddies take their fancy riding crops to Ken’s backside,” Peggy said with a laugh.
The stitches on my forehead pulled. Since I’d driven Heinzie down that hill without gloves, my blistered fingers felt as though they’d been burned with a blowtorch. I had a big lump on my rear end from a massive penicillin shot and a feverish lump on my shoulder from a tetanus shot.
But I was alive. So were Peggy and Heinzie and Don Qui. “I would kill for a massive shot of morphine,” I said. “The Tylenol definitely does not cut it.”
“What you need is rest,” Peggy said. “We’ll get out of here and leave you alone.”
“I’m sticking around for a couple of days,” Dick said. “You’re going to need help.” He smiled at Peggy. A glowing smile.
Ooooo-kay, was something developing there? Since his wife died, Dick had squired rich, multi-tucked Palm Beach widows around, but nobody serious.
“I’ll send you one of my guys until you hire somebody,” Dick said. “I called Fergus Williams. He’s bringing down his two year olds for you to train here. He knows you can’t come up to his place after the show.”
I had forgotten I had a show to manage in less than a week!
“I can handle things while you’re gone,” Peggy said. “If you trust me.”
“I’d trust Benedict Arnold if he said he’d look after the horses while I’m away,” I said. I could feel my eyes drooping.
I saw Peggy give Amos a look. He glanced at Geoff and said, “I’m going out to Ida’s. You gonna come by and finish the reports before you leave tomorrow?”
I jerked awake. Of course he’d leave tomorrow. Geoff lived in Atlanta and worked all over the state. Still, I felt bereft. I thought we were making a connection. Apparently, he didn’t agree. He followed the others. At the door he said, “You plan to stay here, run the place?”
“For now.”
Suddenly, I was back in the full time responsibility business with a vengeance. Instead of running a house, tending to a husband and a child, I was tending to forty acres, and if not a mule, at least a donkey. And I felt good.
I didn’t realize until I came to Mossy Creek how totally alone I had been for as long as I could remember. I didn’t dare love anyone enough so they could hurt me. That included Allie, Vic, and my mother. I had tons of acquaintances. Friends? Not so much. Heck, I didn’t even own a cat!
Geoff strode across to me. “Atlanta’s not that far,” he said. “Try to stay out of trouble.” Then he leaned down, took my face in his hands, kissed me soundly, executed a military turn that would have done a West Point cadet proud, and strode out.
Oh, well. The chances of my seeing Geoff again were slim. What were my chances of running into murder again?
Acknowledgements:
Thanks to Sam Garner, who trained my driving horse, Azora, known as Zoe the Tank, to drive, then trained me to drive her. Thanks also to Johanna Wilburn and her good-natured Welsh pony, Classic, who brought me back up to speed after a driving hiatus, and to Beverly Hollingsworth, my driving buddy. Thanks also to the Nashoba Carriage Driving Association and its members for telling me great stories and giving me excellent advice. Everything that I got right is thanks to them. Everything I got wrong is my own fault.
Finally, thanks to the Belles: Debra Dixon, the world’s best editor, Sandra Chastain, Deborah Smith and Martha Shields. Finally, for Maureen Hardegree for keeping me up-to-date on the doings in Mossy Creek.
I had a great time writing The Cart Before the Corpse. I hope you have fun reading it.
Lots of love,
Carolyn McSparren
Other Cozy Mystery Series From Bell Bridge Books
Daphne Martin, Cake-Decorating Detective
By Gayle Trent
“I didn’t poison Yodel Watson with a layer cake, even if she was the meanest gossip in Brea Ridge, Virginia.”
In MURDER TAKES THE CAKE, cake decorator extraordinaire Daphne Martin has to clear her name – and her baking reputation. In the sequel, DEAD PAN, Daphne’s confections are once again under suspicion when a neighbor dies after eating her cake at a party.
Coming soon: KILLER SWEET TOOTH. Daphne’s peanut brittle is deadly, sure, but did it kill the local dentist?
Dixie Divas: Southern, Socialites, Sleuths
By Virginia Brown
When Trinket Truelove and her best friend, Bitsy, find Bitsy’s ex-husband dead in a closet, Bitsy is the prime suspect. But the DIXIE DIVAS never let a friend down, and they’re determined to find the real culprit. Armed with wit, sass, great designer shoes and margaritas, these Southern cougars are on the prowl with merriment and crime-solving on their to-do list.
Coming next: Book Two, DROP DEAD DIVAS and Book Three, DIXIE DIVA BLUES.
Table of Contents
Title page
Copyright
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
Acknowledgements:
Other Cozy Mystery Series From Bell Bridge Books
TheCart Before the Corpse Page 28