Target of Death
A Cajun Cooking Mystery
by
Madison Johns
Copyright © 2014 by Madison Johns
Target of Death Madison Johns
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to persons living or dead (unless explicitly noted) is merely coincidental.
Edited by EbookEditingPro http://www.ebookeditingpro.com
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Cover Susan Coils http://www.coverkicks.com
Acknowledgement
I would like to thank all of my readers, Tammy Lynn Rodrigue, in particular for allowing me to use her name as the main character in this new series. This has been a long road, and both Tammy and I spent many nights burning up the Facebook chat to develop this character and series. It turned out so much better than I could have ever hoped for. I’d also like to acknowledge Susan Coils for the kick ass cover!
Dedication
I dedicate this book to my late boyfriend, Charles Kalkman, who is still with me daily in spirit. Here’s to you, Chuck. I miss you so much, babe.
Also by Madison Johns
Agnes Barton Senior Sleuths Series:
Armed and Outrageous
(Book One)
Grannies, Guns and Ghosts
(Book Two)
Senior Snoops
(Book Three)
Trouble in Tawas
(Book Four)
Treasure in Tawas
(Book Five)
Agnes Barton/Kimberly Steele Cozy Mystery Series
Pretty, Hip & Dead
(Book One)
Romance
Pretty and Pregnant
(Kimberly Steele Novella)
Redneck Romance
(Standalone)
Chapter One
“Well, congrats, Tammy. We are officially in the middle of nowhere.”
I wrinkled my brow in irritation. “Not at all.” I rustled the map in my lap. “I think we’re almost there.”
Dixie rolled her eyes. “You said that an hour ago.”
“Remind me again why I brought you?”
“Because I’m your bestest friend in the world and you’d be lost without me.”
I smiled. How couldn’t I smile when Dixie said something that sweet? Most folks might think Dixie is an airhead on account of how her blonde hair was all teased and big, but she’s one of the smartest women I know—after me, that is. I had to chuckle at that. Seriously, though, I’m Tammy Lynn Rodrigue and I’m anything but the smartest woman on the planet. I quit using my real last name years ago to hide my family’s dark past. I’m from Estelle, Louisiana, and I was heading to Michigan to attend an archery competition, The Tournament of Trouble, in Bear Paw, Michigan. That is, if I ever found the place. Since I recently lost my job, I really need the prize money to keep a roof over my head and food in my belly. Oh, and did I mention that it was in the dead of winter? So much for wearing my flip-flops.
“It sure is snowing hard,” Dixie announced.
“I can see that. I sure hope we don’t —”
“Uh-oh. I so know you’re not finishing that sentence. It’s bad luck and you know it.”
“There is no such thing as bad luck,” I said, while crossing myself like Grandma always taught me to do--when she wasn’t going to church every dang day, that is. Since I wasn’t all that much of a Jesus freak, I rubbed my antler pendant that was attached around a black cord necklace for good measure. It was made from the antler of the first deer I ever killed with an arrow. I killed it on the first try, too. That made my dad pretty proud. Mama wasn’t too happy about it, though. She thought I should do more ladylike things, such as knitting. She kinda gave up after awhile, which made me happy. But it’s not like I’m all that much of a tomboy since every once in a while, I do like to dress up in pink, with green glitter eye shadow to accent my hazel eyes and red hair. I also love to wear heels on occasion, preferably in the form of leather boots, even though I much prefer the chunky heel type. They’ve come in handy a few times, too, like when a date got out of line. Oh yes, these boots were so made for walking all over you.
Dixie looked over at me and busted out laughing. “You crack me up, Tammy.”
“Why, now,” I said, acting like I hadn’t just looked like I was superstitious as all get out.
“Slow down, would you,” Dixie shouted, but it was too late as the Dodge Dart I was driving slid sideways, narrowly missing a truck. The car spun around into a donut, landing smack in a ditch with a thump.
I pressed my hand against my chest as my heart hammered away and glared at Dixie like it was her fault. “Well, so much for good luck charms.”
“All that crossing yourself didn’t do anything for you, either, but it sure was funny.”
It was snowing so hard now that I couldn’t see much at all. “I told you to rent a four-wheel drive truck!”
“I tried, but they didn’t have any.”
Dixie and I crawled out of the car, still arguing, when the truck I almost nailed also stopped. A tall man hopped out and proceeded to pull out chains from the bed of his truck, then walked toward us. Not one to be intimidated, even though I was in unfamiliar territory, I stood my ground, trying to look all brave. It really wasn’t an act. My dad always told me never let them see you sweat. I wasn’t actually sweating, but I was possibly perspiring a little. I’m so blaming that on the near-death experience I just had, or thought I had, anyway.
The man was covered from head to toe with a feather-down jacket and snow pants. He never said a word as he hooked the chain around the undercarriage of my rental car. It was hard to see what he even looked like since he had a ski mask covering his entire face. Under other circumstances, I’d have worried about a man in a ski mask, but then again, I was from Louisiana and I was used to seeing people in masks during Mari Gras in New Orleans. Plus, it was quite cold and neither Dixie nor I were prepared for it, jacket-wise.
Finally, the man stood up and yelled, “Get behind the wheel and I’ll get you out of there. All you have to do is help steer the car.”
I wanted to say, “Hey, buddy, tell me something I don’t know,” but he was being neighborly, so the least I could do was be nice and act all frail. Hey, if it helped me get the car back on the road, I was game.
I crawled back in the car and started the engine, gripping the steering wheel hard as the car jerked when the chain tightened against it. The engine of the truck roared, and the car was easily pulled from the ditch. My feet pounded the floorboard in my version of a happy dance. I watched as the man moved from his truck and removed the chains. I got out and thanked him.
“You sure talk funny,” he said, referring to my Louisiana accent, no doubt.
“So do you,” I fired back.
“Are you Louisiana Sassy, by chance?”
I put my hands on my hips. “What if I am?”
He laughed. “Of all the luck. You have quite a reputation.”
I didn’t like that a bit, but before I had a chance to teach this Michigan man a lesson about how to treat a lady, Dixie said, “She sure does. She’s deadly with a bow. We’re here for the archery competition.”
“Well, you might just want to turn around now because I’m going to win that competition. I’m not about to let a girl one-up me.”
“I see,” I beg
an. “I have been beating men in competitions for years and I’ll have no problem defeating you. Louisiana Sassy doesn’t take any guff from anyone, least of all a man wearing a ski mask.”
He swiped the ski mask off, flashing me his cat-green eyes. A smile curved his lips. “It’s so on, little lady, but I hope you brought plenty of tissue for when you lose to me. I’m a national champ. I’ve never been beat.”
I leaned forward until I was eye-to-eye with the man. “Me, either.”
He eyed my car. “You can’t even seem to stay out of a ditch.”
“Oh, that little thing. Back home we have bigger potholes.”
“Is that right? Well, you certainly couldn’t have drove yourself out of the itty bitty ditch,” he laughed. “You better move along now before you catch yourself a cold. This isn’t Louisiana. If you plan to last long enough to enter the competition, you better buy yourself a parka. It’s going to be in the twenties tonight.”
Our conversation was interrupted as flashing lights illuminated through a cluster of pine trees further up the road. As the cop cars screeched to a stop, I bit my lower lip. Was this standard policy in Michigan when a car goes in a ditch? I then shook my head, as that didn’t make a lick of sense since I had never even called a wrecker. Something was wrong; I could just feel it in my bones.
Cops staggered from their cars that had careened down on us only moments ago. One of the cops froze when he scrutinized the man who had pulled us out. “What’s going on here, Daniel?”
“I was just helping these ladies out of a ditch.”
There was something about how he said ‘ladies’ that I hated, but then again, I was surprised someone from the north even knew what a lady was.
“Is there something wrong?” I asked the trooper, noting the state police emblem on his car.
“Yes, we found a dead guy in a wooded area not far from here.”
“Oh, my,” Dixie said. “That’s just awful.”
Daniel waved his hands. “Don’t look at me. I just got here. I can’t say the same for the women here. For all I know, they might be responsible.”
Dixie had to hold me back before I smacked this fool. “You just pulled us out of the ditch—or have you forgotten?”
“We take murder investigations seriously here, and as such, we have enough probable cause to search your vehicles,” the trooper informed us.
I pointed in the direction of my rental car. “Knock yourself out, but I’m warning you, our gear is packed tightly in the car.”
Daniel was stone-faced for the moment as he surveyed the cops going through his truck. I, on the other hand, was livid as I helplessly watched as the cops toss our belongings on the ground. “Hey,” I shouted. “Take it easy, would ya.”
When they removed my bow, I rushed forward. “Don’t you dare throw that on the ground. I need that for the competition.”
“Where are you from, Miss?”
“Estelle, Louisiana. Why?”
“I was trying to identify your accent.” He allowed me to hold the bow, but when he came back with an arrow, he frowned. “Have you been bow hunting today?”
“No, I hardly think it’s bow season in January.”
“Even if it was,” Dixie said, “we’re from out of state.”
“Good point.” He waved the other cops forward. “This arrow looks similar to the one we found in the victim.”
“How is that?”
“It also had white and pink feathers.”
“You mean fletches, don’t you? You obviously know nothing about archery, and I imagine arrows like that can be found anywhere.” I gave him a hard stare. “There is an archery competition in Bear Paw, don’t forget.”
“I know all about it, young lady,” a man behind me said. “I’m Sheriff Simon Price. We’ll be taking your arrow to compare it to the one used in the crime.”
I stared at the silver-haired sheriff with less than enthusiasm. “I see. Well, we just got here, so surely we can’t be suspects and you’ll find my arrows all have field tips, which are used for tournaments. Whoever killed the victim must have used a broad-head tip. That’s what most hunters use.”
“You can check our GPS unit in the car if you’d like,” Dixie volunteered. “It will prove that we just got here.”
“I see. Well, like I said, we’ll be retaining the arrow. I hope you ladies plan on sticking around in town until the investigation is cleared up.” He stroked his mustache. “I have a friend in town who could offer you a place to stay while you’re here. Margarita Hickey, she owns the local restaurant, Hidden Pass.”
I sighed. “Sure, whatever you say.”
The sheriff then gave me directions, which I only half listened to. How hard could it be to find? My thoughts were more on Daniel, who seemed to have some kind of death wish for suggesting Dixie or I could be capable of murder. Oh, I have had dark thoughts, all right, but it’s not something I’d ever act on. My family already had a black mark against it and didn’t need another.
The cops left our belongings on the snow-covered ground and I just wanted to scream at them to put everything back the way they found it, but I knew that would be impossible on account of how hard it was for Dixie and me to pack the car the first time around. I had some harsh words for that Daniel character, but he had piled into his truck and sped off.
As the sheriff made for his car, I asked, “Can you give me the full name of the man who helped us out of the ditch? I haven’t properly thanked him for helping us out.”
“Daniel Adams. He’s our local archery champ. I’m fairly certain that he won’t let a woman beat him.”
Oh, I’d like to beat Daniel, all right. Instead, I just nodded in agreement. “I’m so used to the type, and it’s always so gratifying to me when I—”
“Meet them later for a congratulatory drink,” Dixie interjected.
Dang that Dixie for interrupting me before I could add that I’d kick that man’s ass all the way to China. I suppose I should thank Dixie. Otherwise, we might not run into him again until the competition, and that just wouldn’t do. For all I knew, the Daniel character might be the one responsible for the murder, although it didn’t appear that the cops had found any bow or arrows in his truck, but he sure lit outta here fast.
Chapter Two
Once we were back on the road again, I felt Dixie’s eyes on me.
“I know what you‘re going to say,” I told her.
“Oh, really? Are you suddenly a mind reader?”
“God, no. That’s all I need. Although I sure could visualize a man dead in the snow with an arrow through his heart,” I said with a shudder.
“I could, too, but I guess it’s hard not to think about that. Personally, I would rather not go out that way.” She folded her arms across her chest. “You really need to control that temper of yours. You should know you catch more flies with sugar water.”
“Oh, and by catch, you mean…?”
“Daniel was cute, don’t you think?”
I gripped the steering wheel with both hands and retorted, “Not! He tried to implicate us in a murder, don’t forget.”
“Yes, but maybe he had a good reason to say that.”
“Yeah, like maybe he’s the one responsible for that man’s death.”
“Man? I don’t remember the sheriff mentioning that—”
“It’s a man, for sure. Who else would be tramping around in the woods in the dead of winter?”
Dixie chuckled. “Really? If we were back in Louisiana, I’d say you. I can image there are plenty of women who love the great outdoors here in Michigan. There might even be a few in the archery competition.”
I arched a brow. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”
There was a fork in the road and I veered off to the right. “You’re going the wrong way,” Dixie sang.
“No, I’m sure this is the right way.”
“Were you actually listening to the directions or were you daydreaming?”
I found a plowe
d driveway in which to turn around and then made my way back, turning on Creek Road. Pine trees were tightly packed along the sides of the road and I kept my eyes peeled for wildlife. From what I knew of Michigan, you could never predict when a white-tailed deer might make an appearance and glide across the road. In fact, we just passed a deer crossing sign. The last thing I needed was to crash into one. It would really bite if I had an accident and that Daniel character had to help me out again.
I considered myself to be a strong woman, one who didn’t need a man in her life. It’s not like I’d ever really met a man who was capable of dealing with my love of archery or the outdoors. I guess I spent too many years in the competition circuit. Most men were too intimidated by me, besides the ones who frequented bars. I’ve prided myself to stay away from those places. I had zero tolerance for men touching me—or anyone else for that matter—unless I knew them, of course. That’s when Dixie came in handy. If anyone tried to get that fresh, she set them straight, real quick-like. She probably saved a few lives in the process. I have been known to kick a man in the teeth if he cut out of line. My momma didn’t much care for that type of behavior, though, and if she ever found out about it, which she had on occasion, I was sent straight to church, a Catholic church. Problem was that we weren’t even Catholic. I think she just loved that whole confession thing. If she’d heard the half of my confessions, she’d have locked me in the cellar for sure.
I cleared the trees and passed the Bear Paw sign with the population of twelve hundred clearly displayed. I had a love-hate relationship with small towns, although I came from one myself. Estelle, Louisiana, where I lived, was located in Jefferson Parish. It is considered the Deep South, so what I was doing in Michigan, freezing my ass off in the winter, was beyond me.
The downtown area of Bear Paw didn’t seem to have too many businesses to speak of and no McDonald’s, either. Great, I can’t image where and what we’d have to eat. One thing was for sure; it wouldn’t contain any Cajun food.
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