Killer Beach Reads

by Gemma Halliday Publishing

  And I could keep killing her over and over again until I got it out of my system. Ah—the perks of being a writer.

  * * * * *

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Dane McCaslin, author of the new Proverbial Crime mystery series, resides in the state of Arizona with her very patient husband. She has been writing all of her life: poetry, short stories, journals, letters (yes, those old-fashioned epistles that require pen and paper), and now she brings her talents to the cozy mystery genre.

  In addition to being an author, Dane McCaslin is an educator. She currently teaches advanced language arts classes for grade 11; additionally, she teaches beginning writing classes at the local university. Being an educator is an important part of her life, and passing on her passion for reading and writing is one of her great joys.

  To learn more about Dane McCaslin, visit her online at:

  http://www.danemccaslin.co

  BOOKS BY DANE MCCASLIN

  Proverbial Crime Mysteries:

  A Bird in the Hand

  Other works:

  Murder at the Miramar

  Becklaw's Murder Mystery Tour

  Legend

  BACKYARD BAR-BE-FEUD

  (Working Stiff Mysteries)

  by

  Kerri Nelson

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER ONE

  10:30 a.m.

  "I never understand that thing about not throwing the baby out with the bath water," Sundae Giddings said as she swatted at gnats that hovered around her face.

  "Ah, I think it has something to do with not throwing out the good with the bad," I replied.

  We were standing over a picnic table at the Sugar Pines Golf Course making preparations for tonight's annual Millbrook Summer Fest.

  "Yeah, but I mean, who would throw out a baby? It just doesn't make sense," Sundae continued her reasoning. She'd been on a kick to analyze clichés and idioms lately.

  I smiled at her as I peeled off more tape to affix the plastic tablecloth to the underside of the wooden table. Sometimes it was better to just not respond to my friend when she went on one of her pseudo-philosophical rants.

  In an attempt to earn a few much-needed bucks, I'd taken a temp job with the local Back Porch Café, owned and operated by my lifelong elderly friend Ms. Maimie.

  The job was simple—arrive early, set up tables, haul food from the café to the course for the all-day picnic and music festival, stay to watch the amazing fireworks show after dark, and then hang out for clean up duty. For all that, I would get a sweet five hundred dollars, and I'd agreed to split it fifty-fifty with Sundae. As a local hairdresser, she wasn't exactly flush with cash, and it would be a lot more fun if I had company.

  All in all, not a bad deal for one day's work. Plus, I was allowed to snack on the food throughout the day, and this made it an absolute peach of a deal.

  "Hi, ladies."

  I recognized the smooth timbre of Officer Devon Keith and turned to give him a grin and a peck on the cheek.

  He was my kind of-sort of romantic interest at the moment. It was nothing serious, but we'd been hanging out the last few months, and I was enjoying his company.

  "More chairs?" I asked as I noticed the bundles of folding chairs that he held under each arm with little effort—his biceps bulging. My eyes were also bulging at the sight of his studliness, but I hoped he didn't notice.

  "Yeah, Ms. Lanier called and told me to pick these up from the church. I told her that I thought we had enough from the school, but she insisted." He gave a little headshake.

  Ms. Lanier was my next-door neighbor and one of the town's matriarchs. She was, quite possibly, the oldest living member of the community. Then again, no one was exactly sure of her real age as she always claimed to be in her "sixties" when asked. Of course, we all knew that she hadn't been in her sixties for at least the last two decades, but no one was gonna call her on it.

  "Put those over here, Devvie," Sundae's voice broke in as she teased him with his much-hated nickname.

  He gave me an eye roll, and I gave him a wink. He returned the wink, and I was sure it looked much sexier on him than it had on me. At least, it brought out a blush on my treacherous Irish complexion nonetheless.

  Distracting me from my flirtations, I heard the chirp of my cell phone and retrieved it from my back pocket with two fingers.

  The display read Henny Penny.

  "Hey, Penny," I greeted my long time high school friend. I dropped the "henny" reference as she hated it, and I wasn't feeling very brave this early in the day.

  "Are you over at the Pines already?" she asked.

  "Yep, been here for an hour now. Setting up the tables and such. What's up?"

  "Oh, nothing much. Just have a sort of situation going on down at City Hall that I thought you might find interesting."

  "At City Hall? It's Saturday—isn't it closed?" I tried to focus on what Penny was saying, but my attention was being refocused on the sight of Devon bending over to deposit the chairs at the nearby grandstand. And the way his blue jeans fit just perfectly from the rear view was sort of winning out.

  "Dougie Mills has chained himself to the flagpole," Penny said.

  "Wait… What?" The words registered in my mind, but I somehow couldn't imagine the scenario.

  "The former mayor of Millbrook? Remember Dougie Mills?" Penny sounded frustrated at my lack of excitement.

  How could I forget? I'd once found a frozen corpse in the attic of the former mayor's home.

  "Why in the world is he chained to the flagpole?" I asked as images from my past began to assault my mind.

  "We don't know yet. As he's said that he'll only speak to you about it." There was a certain excitement in Penny's voice now that was unmistakable. My friend loved a good news story. And, as owner of the town's newspaper, this was a dream come true for her.

  "Me? Why me?" My face heated at the idea, and this time it wasn't a blush, it was anxiety.

  "We don't know, but Ty told me to call you and get you down here. We've got the governor coming into town at noon for the opening ceremony, and this isn't exactly the image we'd like to greet him with." Penny cackled. She was really enjoying this.

  "But, I'm working…" I desperately tried to think of a way to get out of this. I was trying to stay away from anything controversial these days. Quiet life. Normal life. No drama.

  The muffled sound of two people talking met my ear, and then Penny's voice was replaced by that of her brother, Ty Dempsey. "Mandy, just get in your car and get down here. Find out what he wants, and let's get it over with. I don't have time for this today."

  "Uh, Ty. You don't give me orders. I'm not one of your police officers. I don't care if you are the new chief."

  Ty and I had a history, and it found its way into my current life more than I'd like.

  A long sigh on the other end of the phone followed. I really knew how to push his buttons, and I seemed unable to resist doing it.

  "Is that Chief Dempsey? Is he looking for me?" Devon was back by my side now. His face serious. Now in full force cop mode at the mention of his boss.

  I shook my head.

  "Okay, I'll be there as soon as I can." I ended the call.

  Devon and Sundae stood before me waiting on more information.

  "Well, it seems that our prior mayor wants a word with me in a very public way," I announced and then recounted the details of my phone call.

  Devon raised his eyebrows, and Sundae opened her mouth in surprise.

  "Hmmm…he's about as honest as the day is long," Sundae's clichés continued.

  "I don't think that really applies to him," I said, remembering all the trouble his family had caused not even a year ago.

  Sundae shrugged and followed me toward my car. "Well, I'm coming along to see what's what anyway."

  I nodded. "It's probably nothing," I said toward Devon but his eyes showed suspicion.

  "I'll follow along as well. This guy sounds as nutty as a fruitcake," Devon pulled his k
eys from his pocket and headed toward his Jeep.

  Great, more clichés.

  CHAPTER TWO

  11:00 a.m.

  By the time, we arrived at City Hall a small crowd of curious onlookers had gathered around Douglas "Dougie" Mills as he sat at the base of the flagpole. He was in a lawn chair and a large chain was wrapped around his waist fastening him and the chair to the pole.

  In his left hand he held a file folder and in his right, a gun.

  It had been almost a year since I'd seen him, and he'd been heading to the hospital at the time after suffering a cardiac episode.

  As I approached the scene before me, I felt a little like I might have a cardiac episode of my very own. I rubbed my left shoulder in response.

  Chief Ty Dempsey stood a few feet from the mayor's location. His sister Penny beside him, her arms crossed and a smile on her face.

  "I'm here. What now?" I asked, my throat tightening a little.

  Ty glanced over at me and then at Devon who was only a few steps behind me. I thought I caught a quick clench of his jaw, but maybe I'd imagined it.

  Ty was aware of my budding relationship with Officer Keith, and he was also aware that he shouldn't get involved. But that didn't mean that he didn't have a certain opinion about it.

  Thankfully, he kept the opinion to himself as we focused on the scene before us.

  "Mayor Mills…I mean Dougie Mills wants to talk to you about something." Ty motioned for me to step closer and chat with the large, sweaty man who was watching us closely.

  "Should I just step up there?" I asked, cautiously. Indicating his possession of a gun by making a finger gun with my thumb and index finger.

  Penny giggled from behind Ty, but I avoided eye contact with her. She was enjoying this—my friend had a weird sense of humor.

  "I won't hurt you, Ms. Murrin," the former mayor of Millbrook called to me. Obviously sensing my hesitation.

  Ty nodded. I cast a glance back at Devon. He was staring at Dougie Mills with nothing less than his full-on man-of-action policeman's glare. I'd been the subject of just such a stare when I'd first met Devon.

  If old Dougie knew what was good for him, he'd behave.

  I tentatively stepped forward to within about five feet of the City Hall protester and knelt down.

  "Thanks for coming, Ms. Murrin. I know you didn't have to, but I'm glad you did," Mills said.

  I shook my head slowly. My stomach rumbled beneath my hot pink tank top.

  "I'm just not sure what I could possibly do or say, Mr. Mills. Why did you want to see me?"

  He looked down at his hand—the one grasping the gun. I noticed a slight tremble.

  "You were the one who exposed my family for the mess that we are…" He looked up and out over the crowd. His eyes not really focusing on any one thing.

  "I'm sorry, but I—" I tried to reply, but then he turned and made eye contact with me, and I stopped short with my response.

  "Thank you for doing that," he finished.

  I swallowed, and my throat was thick. Probably an allergy attack coming on. Well, either that or pure terror.

  "I'm still not sure I understand." My brain replayed all the things that had happened last summer when I'd sort of accidentally blown the lid off an old town scandal.

  "I have nothing now. I'm alone." He pulled a handkerchief out of his shirt pocket and used it to soak up the sweat that had beaded up on his forehead.

  I sank back on my feet and placed my hands on my jeans-clad thighs. "But what can I do for you today, sir?"

  I decided to try to get this moving along. The crowd was growing by the minute. And I could almost hear Ty screaming inside my head about the governor's impending arrival.

  Tucking the dampened cloth back inside his pocket, he focused on me. "I'll never be mayor of this town again. I know that. But, my family founded this city, and I need to play a role here. I need something in my life."

  I gave a short nod, but I still couldn't see how this involved me.

  "And since you did such a good job of figuring out how to destroy my family and all that we'd built…" He pierced me with rheumy eyes and a small shiver crept up my spine.

  "I want you to figure out a way to get me on the City Council."

  Huh?

  I had no idea how to do this, and I told him as much.

  "Well, you'll need to visit the four members of the council. Get them to sign this paper." He leaned forward to hand me the file folder. The hand with the gun swung around to face me as he bent over, and a few gasps arose from the crowd.

  I was aware of two men drawing their weapons behind my back.

  "Let's put that gun down, Dougie," Ty said.

  I held my breath. Dougie straightened up and extended the folder toward me, placing the gun safely back in his lap. He ignored Ty completely.

  I slowly reached out and took the folder.

  "Everything you need is in there. I want the four signatures, and then I'll leave peaceably."

  "But…it's the Summer Fest today. I won't possibly have time to do this right now."

  He let out a small chuckle. "The Summer Fest will wait."

  "You wanna bet?" The voice of my neighbor, Ms. Lanier sounded behind me.

  "The Summer Fest waits for no one," Ms. Maimie chimed in.

  Oh great. The elderly crime-solving contingent of Millbrook was here. I glanced back over my shoulder and saw Devon holding them off from coming any closer to the action.

  "Well, it will wait today. Good luck finding fireworks for the big finale. I think you'll find that I own every fireworks store in the tri-county area. And they'll be awaiting my phone call before releasing any for tonight's event," Dougie Mills said in a voice that sounded a lot like a small boy who had won the biggest teddy bear at the local fair.

  "Mr. Mills, ruining the Summer Fest is not exactly a good way to win back the city's trust," I stated the obvious and received nods and murmurs of approval from the crowd.

  "Don't care. Just want my request granted. So, the sooner you get it done…the sooner the festival can continue. And that's the deadline, by the way. Four signatures or no fireworks. And…well… I hear that the governor loves the fireworks." Dougie Mills leaned back in this chair and seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

  This day was turning into something way different than I'd imagined.

  "Well, don't that just chap yer hide," Ms. Lanier said.

  Yes indeed it does.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Noon

  "Mandy, I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I think you should go and get these signatures, and let's get on with the day," Ty said, his voice calm and face pleading.

  "But, what if they won't sign off? What if we just waste the entire day trying to get the signatures and still no fireworks, and it is just a big mess?" I thought of the Summer Fest and how I'd been really looking forward to it. Not just the money and not just the food but the entire community. Coming out and relaxing together. No drama and no worries. A little trickle of sadness overcame me.

  "Yeah, let's just arrest the big idiot and get back to our day," Ms. Maimie offered.

  We stood in a small circle near Ty's police cruiser across the street from City Hall. Devon and Officer Prentiss had stayed back by the flagpole to keep an eye on the crowd and on Dougie Mills.

  "But that's just the thing, Ms. Maimie. By his throwing this sort of protest, he'll end up attracting all the attention away from the festival. And with no fireworks show, we'll lose our big finale. This whole thing will become the headlines instead of our fun event," Ty tried to reason through.

  "Maimie, let's me and you get back to the café and finish up the food. Mandy and Ty can handle this." Ms. Lanier's voice was unusually calm, and that made me suspicious.

  I looked down at the folder and began to flip through the pages. "These are the council members?" I held up the list for all to see. It read: Randall Jamison, Milo Mulder, David Cavello, and Macy Deats.

  "Yep, that's th
em." Ms. Lanier squinted at it behind thick glasses.

  "Who is Macy Deats?" Ms. Maimie asked.

  "That's the late Ms. Strength's niece. Remember, she moved into her house over the holidays?" Ms. Lanier answered in her know-it-all voice.

  "Mandy…" Ty drew my attention away from the list.

  I closed the file and stuck it under my arm. "Okay. Let's get going."

  "Don't worry, Mandy. I'll help finish setting up for the festival. You take care of this mess, and I'll save you plenty of food," Sundae spoke up from where she was leaning against the cop car.

  I smiled at her, and she returned the smile full force. She was a good friend.

  Ty held the door of his car open for me, and I crouched inside. The car was emitting a wave of heat that made my hair turn to pure frizz and my throat parch.

  "Why don't we take Stella instead?" I asked, staring longingly at my classic convertible parked nearby.

  "No, this is official police business. We need to take my car." Ty gave me the answer I didn't want to hear as we drove off, leaving my friends staring at our departure.

  I looked back down at the list. "Let's see Randall Jamison first."

  Ty gave a small grunt and hit the lights and sirens as we sped through town.

  I rolled my eyes.

  Boys and their toys.

  * * *

  A few minutes later, we were at the home office of Randall Jamison. Local attorney and a close family friend. He'd been a schoolmate of my father's back in the day. I hadn't seen him in several months, and the last time I had seen him it hadn't actually been on the best of terms.