Killer Classics

by Kym Roberts

  “Well, I have, and I didn’t know who the killer was until the last chapter of the book,” added Jessie.

  “Of course, you didn’t,” Reba Sue mumbled. “But you’re not a member of the Mystery Moms, are you?”

  Daisy bristled, sat up a little straighter, and glared at Reba Sue. “That’s. My. Husband,” she ground out between her dentures.

  Reba Sue ignored her. “I’m telling you, Sugar killed her.”

  Jessie rolled his eyes at her accusation. “You make it sound like the victim died of diabetes, not a bullet in the head.”

  “And you make it sound like a joke,” Reba Sue accused.

  Reba Sue and I had never been friends, and like Jessie, my eyes rolled when she compared the killer in Nathan Daniels latest mystery novel to our very own Sugar McWilliams. Sugar was as sweet as her name implied and worked as a waitress at the Tool Shed. In her spare time, she worked part time at the Barn. She was responsible. She took care of her boyfriend’s children better than their moms. Sugar was not a killer…and we were arguing about a fictional murder.

  “Good grief, Reba Sue. You sound like you really believe Sugar killed someone,” Leila said.

  Reba Sue began skimming through the book in front of her. “Listen to his description: A voluptuous blond, Candy’s breasts were the size of—”

  It was my best friend who shut her down this time. “We get the picture, Reba Sue. We’re all reading the novel.” Scarlet Jenkins could have been the voluptuous killer Nathan Daniels was describing in his book, except my best friend barely reached five foot, and she had a shimmering flow of red hair, not “sun-kissed blond tresses cascading over her shoulders to tickle the tops of her…”

  If someone described Scarlet like that…bless his heart, because it wouldn’t be beating in his chest for very long.

  “You’re right. I don’t know why I didn’t see the similarities between Candy and our Sugar before now,” said Betty Walker, the owner of Bluebonnet Quilt Shop. Betty wasn’t the eldest of the group, but her blue hair which looked like a helmet sitting on top of her head, didn’t quite go with her skin tone. It made the veins in her face more visible, and I suspected her bobble-head effect was just one of several identical wigs she chose to wear in public.

  “Of course, there are similarities, that’s what Nathan Daniels is known for—creating characters who are relatable and believable.” Scarlet took a sip of her sweet tea and looked around the table, daring anyone to argue.

  This was the wrong group to dare.

  “So, you agree that he based the characters on the real people of Hazel Rock?” I asked as I moved to the table and sat down across from Reba Sue.

  “There’s a baker named Hans, for Pete’s sake,” Betty chimed in.

  “He makes wedding cakes. Does your Franz make wedding cakes for people around the globe?” Scarlet asked.

  “No, but he makes world-renowned pastries,” Betty argued.

  Franz made some mighty fine goodies, but I hated to tell Betty that her beau wasn’t world renowned.

  Daisy wasn’t about to be left out of the argument. “The name of the town is Greenstone and the mayor’s name is Wade. Did you guys know our mayor was stepping out with Candy…I mean, Sugar?”

  Maddie’s head swiveled in Betty’s direction.

  Sugar had had enough. “I am not!”

  “Lord have mercy, you ladies have lost your minds in this heat!” Daisy’s husband sat in the corner fanning himself with his cowboy hat.

  Daisy gave another eye roll. “That’s my husband.”

  The women started arguing across the tables, each with their own opinion about Nathan Daniels’s fictional town mirroring our own Hazel Rock. I leaned toward Scarlet. “Cade’s not seeing Sugar, is he?”

  She gave me a look that said I had gone plum crazy if I believed that.

  Daddy chose that as his cue to exit and headed for the stairs. He hadn’t planned on staying longer than an hour while I managed the book club meeting since it was his day off. I had no doubt there were a few fish with his name on them waiting for him in the river.

  Reba Sue took offense to Jessie’s interruption. “Hush up, you old coot. This is serious business.”

  Every other word being hurled across the table dropped to the floor in one beat of silence. The Mysteries Moms looked at Reba Sue who had no clue she’d just committed a crime against society. Specifically, we all knew better than to insult Jessie Mahan in front of his wife, Daisy. And Reba Sue had done it several times.

  Reba Sue looked at all the women staring at her. “What?” she asked. “He’s not even a mystery mom.”

  All eyes darted to Daisy, who slowly stood up, every joint in her body creaking in slow motion as it echoed throughout the loft.

  Jessie was the first to recognize the threat. “Now, Daisy. She didn’t mean nothin’.” His knees groaned as he got up and approached the table, but no one paid him no mind.

  Especially Daisy. She was too busy seeing red—or in this case, blue—the blue blouse that was showing off Reba Sue’s cleavage.

  “That’s. My. Husband.”

  Everyone but Reba Sue winced with each word. She was oblivious to the threat standing before her in the eighty-some-year-old body. She dismissed the elderly woman as easily as if she were a just another woman trying to get some attention.

  “Daisy, you know darn well the man is a menace,” Reba Sue said, and then took a sip of her tea like she’d made a comment about the weather.

  And just as I thought Daisy was going to reach for a handful of Reba Sue’s perfectly coiffed blond hair, Reba Sue let out a horrible noise that could compete with a herd of screeching cats on a hot tin roof. She pushed her chair back from the table with so much force, the table drove into Daisy and knocked her back into her chair. Reba Sue went the opposite direction, but our store had old wooden floors that had seen more than a little wear and tear through the years, and Liza just happened to find a divot in one of the planks with the right back leg of her chair.

  Her legs flew up in the air, and her frilly skirt had a new hem length…at her waist as the contents of her glass went directly in her face, and she crashed against the floor.

  Her screeching came to an end as Daddy ran back up the stairs.

  “What in the—?” His mouth gaped for just a fraction of a second before he choked down a laugh and moved to help Reba Sue, who was sputtering and spitting tea from her position flat on her back with her legs up in the air displaying a pair of…granny panties.

  Mateo was right there with Daddy to help Reba Sue get upright and decent, and despite Reba Sue’s harsh words directed at the town’s octogenarian rodeo star, Jessie ran over to assist her any way he could. Most of the women, however, wore smirks or giggled. I picked up the glass before someone stepped on it. It was only then that I caught sight of movement on the floor scurrying behind Scarlet’s legs.

  “Someone kicked me and knocked me over!” Reba Sue yelled as she pulled tea-drenched hair out of her eyes and yanked her left arm then her right away from Daddy and Mateo.

  All eyes turned toward me. I’d been sitting directly across the table from Reba Sue.

  Fuzz buckets. Trouble was synonymous with my name—my nickname, anyway, which was Princess. But it wasn’t me who had knocked Reba Sue on her back. It was our pet pink armadillo who just happened to be named Princess as well.

  I saw the real culprit make her way downstairs as her toenails clicked on the stairs all the way down to the first floor. She’d committed her crime and made her getaway without anyone being the wiser.

  Chapter 2

  Mateo stuck around after my daddy and the others left. There wasn’t much to pick up, but I was avoiding the tearoom, the boxes in the corner, and any conversation they might inspire. Mateo was clearly waiting for the right time to bring it up. I was hoping that time never arrived before I
had Cade’s permission to talk about the reason the tearoom was closed for business. I’d done a pretty good job of deflecting Mateo’s attempts at an interrogation for the past twenty minutes. Except now the loft was back in order, and we were alone.

  Mateo reached around me and took the book from my hand, placing it down on the table. Then he pulled me back against him and nuzzled my neck as his arms wrapped around my midsection. I couldn’t resist holding them in place.

  “Do you realize that none of your friends know we’re dating?” he asked.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You haven’t told a single person that we are dating.”

  I spoke up without hesitation. “That’s not true.” I turned around in his embrace and looked him in the eyes. “Daddy knows, and Scarlet knows. Everyone else would have to be blind not to know.”

  “And yet not one of them felt uncomfortable talking about you getting back together with Cade in front of me.”

  I heard the front doors open and glanced down to see who was coming in the store. When I saw her signature purple clothing, I sighed. Liza Twaine was back. I squirmed in Mateo’s arms. His gaze followed mine, and he tightened his grip. “If she sees us together, she won’t bother you about Cade.”

  I pulled away. “If she sees us together, the gossip will be like wildfire. That’s not the type of PR we want for the store.”

  Mateo looked skeptical.

  “Besides, I don’t think that’s type of PR you want either, going into your next election.”

  Mateo didn’t have a chance to respond before Liza Twaine’s heels clicked up the stairway. “There you are. I was hoping to get a quote about your relationship with Cade Calloway for the evening news. I understand the mayor’s moving in with you?”

  I groaned as Mateo picked up one of the boxes I didn’t want him to notice. I saw him frown as he stared at the shipping label.

  Fuzz buckets.

  Liza didn’t seem to notice since she was on a mission. She stuck her phone in my face, and I could see a voice recorder app ticking away the time. Even Liza would have had more tact then to blatantly accuse me of infidelity in front of Mateo…if she knew Mateo and I were dating.

  I glanced at Mateo. He was wearing an I-told-you expression. Drat the man.

  “Mayor Calloway moved some of his belongings”—Liza moved her phone closer to my mouth as I spoke—“from the old barber shop down the street into our tearoom. He’s remodeling the building and needed some storage space. We were more than happy to help him out after everything he’s done for the Book Barn Princess and the town.” To finish my interview, I turned toward Mateo and put my arm around his waist after he set the box down on the table. Although his grin was barely visible, his arm snuck around me. My silent announcement of our relationship squelched any questions he had.

  Liza took notice, then turned the direction of her interview. She moved toward Mateo with her purple phone. “Did Mayor Calloway apply for permits to remodel the building, or is it another behind the scene private negotiation between friends like what he did with the Enchanted Inn?”

  Mateo’s smile disappeared. His arm dropped. “Don’t move, Liza.”

  “I hardly think my question rises to the point of being bullied, Sheriff. The people have a right to know if the businesses of Hazel Rock are making deals under—”

  “Liza, if you know what’s good for you—”

  Liza sputtered. “Are you threatening me, Sheriff?”

  I looked at Mateo wondering what the heck he thought he was doing. She was recording for Pete’s sake! Mateo, however, wasn’t looking at either of us. Nor was he focused on her phone. He was looking at Princess who had just arrived at the top of the steps with a friend—her friend. Not mine. And her friend didn’t talk, it waddled like her. But her guest wasn’t another armadillo. It was a skunk.

  “Holy schnikes. Shut up, Liza,” I whispered.

  Liza was about to argue until I pointed behind her.

  “Don’t move.” Mateo inched away from me and reached for the box he’d set on the table. The box was filled to the brim with stuff I didn’t want anyone to see. Especially Liza. Nor did Cade for that matter. Besides, dumping the box without spooking the skunk was next to impossible.

  “Not that box,” I ordered, but Mateo ignored me.

  To make matters worse, Liza had never listened to anyone telling her what to do a day in her life. As a former kindergarten teacher, I knew exactly which kid she would have been in my classroom—the one who wreaked havoc during nap time. Reading time. Game time. Liza Twaine was that one kid who was the bane of existence to all teachers. As an adult she continued to challenge authority, much to Mateo Espinosa’s chagrin. And mine.

  Liza turned around, took one look at Princess and her new friend, and screamed. The skunk perked its ears, twitched its nose, and chattered as it lifted its tail and stomped its feet in response. Liza ignored the warning. Again, I pictured that kindergarten student who just didn’t know when to quit. Liza shooed with both hands, and the skunk lifted its back legs in what looked like the most threatening handstand I’d ever witnessed. Liza saw it as a bigger target for a field goal between the two handrails of the steps and cocked her purple pump. The skunk was going to be her football.

  I yelled, “Liza don’t!”

  Mateo forgot the box and turned his attention toward Liza to stop her. Or maybe, it was to save her. I’m not quite sure. Princess however, decided to attack her. She rammed her little head into Liza’s support leg. The only leg the reporter had planted on the floor. It didn’t succeed in knocking her off her feet. It just knocked Liza off balance, and her purple phone went flying in the air as her kick went wide, and Mateo tackled her. I had a split second to grab Princess before she ended up beneath the pile, and as I reached for my pet, the skunk turned around.

  It was one of those slow-motion moments in life. Liza’s garbled cussing filled one ear as she and Mateo hit the floor, while a distressed squeal from Princess filled my other ear as we saw them land precariously close to Princess’s friend.

  I wouldn’t say it was an accusatory look Mateo gave my retreating form, but it was definitely one that I’d remember for a long time. Liza’s phone hit the skunk on the back, and it was done being patient. I heard a distinct hissing sound, like someone decided to spray several aerosol cans at once as I ran for the door that connects my apartment to the store.

  Liza screamed again, and Mateo, bless his heart, let loose a trail of Spanish words I was unfamiliar with, though I could guess their meaning.

  I looked back to see Liza crawling in my direction, Mateo dumping the box on the floor while rubbing his eyes, and a faintly yellow mist in the air. Liza reached toward me, but I was not exposing my apartment to that odor. I closed the door, locked it, and jammed a towel at the base of the door. Then Princess and I ran around to the other entrance. I made it down the stairs and to the front of the bookstore just as Sugar came running outside. She didn’t seem to be wearing any new form of perfume in the scent of eau de skunk.

  She stopped me from going inside. “Mateo said to keep everyone out.”

  “He’s going to need my help.”

  “He said he would take care of it.”

  I was afraid of what that meant. Did it mean he would kill the skunk, whom Princess had somehow lured into the Barn? Or did it mean things were so bad, he didn’t want me to be anywhere near my store? Or did it mean something else altogether?

  I didn’t have time to think about it before the front door to the Barn swished open, and Mateo came out with a box in his hands. His new cologne reached us before he did, and I hate to say that Sugar and I took a step back.

  Mateo’s eyes were red and running. He squinted and rubbed his left eye on his shoulder as he held the box out in front of him. We all took another step backward.

  He looked completely distrau
ght. Hopefully he couldn’t see my reaction, but I seriously doubted that he missed it.

  God in heaven…he stunk.

  “I’ve called animal control to relocate our delinquent,” he said.

  Princess squealed at his feet and then pawed at his combat boot.

  “I think that’s her friend.”

  “You want him?” He took a couple of steps in my direction.

  “Don’t you dare, Mateo Espinosa!” I warned as I backed up into the street.

  He smirked. At least his sense of humor hadn’t failed him.

  Princess followed him and began chatting up a storm. The box answered. It wobbled in his grasp. A violent struggle for freedom ensued. Mateo hugged the box as the weight shifted, and Sugar and I ran behind the police car. Mateo lost the battle and barely got the box near the ground when the skunk escaped through the top and ran for the back of the Barn with Princess on his tail.

  Fuzz buckets. She was going to smell worse than ever when she came home. Just like Mateo.

  “You lost your man,” I said.

  Mateo scowled in my direction. He looked as if he wanted to respond, but Liza exited the Barn.

  She didn’t look bad. Just a little rough around the edges with a scrape on her knee. Her body spray, however, could have been named Eau de Salaud. Aromatic Stinkard.

  Liza eyed the onlookers who weren’t about to approach her. Then she spotted me behind Mateo’s unmarked patrol car and stomped in my direction. As she moved closer, Sugar went the opposite direction I did, and one thought came to mind: Liza’s scent wasn’t light like an eau de toilette. It wasn’t even in line with an eau de parfum. Liza was wearing the strongest variety of heavy-oiled perfume money couldn’t buy. She smelled even worse than Mateo.

  I grimaced and moved around the cruiser. Sugar decided it was time to get the heck out of Dodge. Her blond ponytail bobbed along with her across the street.

  “This is your fault!” Liza accused as she followed me around the car.