I Scream, You Scream (A Willow Crier Cozy Mystery Book 2) (Willow Crier Cozy Mysteries)

by Lilly York

  She turned her back and walked toward the same room they had sat in previously. “Can I get you something? Coffee perhaps?”

  Steve answered for both of them while Willow, being her normal nosy self, wandered down a hallway. “No. I do have to ask, how did you know there was an attempt on Martha’s life? That information wasn’t released to the public.”

  “I’m sure Martha must have called me. We are close, you know. Our mutual concern for Clarissa’s wellbeing is such a strong bonding factor.”

  He laid his hand on the gun at his side. “I don’t think so, Elizabeth. I spoke with Martha this morning. She said she hadn’t said a word to anyone. Not even you.” He continued. “She also remembered what was familiar about the man who tried to kill her in the hospital. What type of cologne does your husband wear? And by the way, where is he?”

  Her eyes gave him away when she looked over Steve’s shoulder.

  Steve quickly turned around to see Mark holding a knife to the maid’s throat. Steve trained his gun on the man’s forehead. “Put the knife down. You don’t want to make this worse than it already is.”

  Steve tried to see Willow out of his peripheral vision but couldn’t find her. He hoped she was out of harm’s way. Knowing Willow though, she was smack dab in the middle of it. He just didn’t know how she would play into it, but play into it she would.

  Elizabeth had gone to stand next to her husband. It was at that moment she realized Willow was missing. She had been so intent on distracting Police Chief Grice, she lost Willow. Her head started to turn, back and forth, looking for the woman who accompanied the chief to the house. She couldn’t find her.

  A commotion sounded behind the couple loud enough to startle Mark into lowering his knife, just a little. Willow reached out from behind him and zapped him with her Taser. He dropped to the ground in a fit of muscle spasms. Elizabeth went for the knife but Steve called out to her to freeze, thankfully she followed orders and didn’t get herself shot. Then again, it probably would have served her right.

  ***

  Willow settled into her recliner. She had gone to the movie rental store and rented the entire nine seasons of Seinfeld in order to understand what Jasper had been talking about. A knock at the door caused Clover to bark. She didn’t want to move. She yelled, “Come in. It’s open.”

  Steve pet the top of Clover’s head. “Hey girl. You being good? Have you dug any holes lately?”

  He moved to the living room where Willow was still relaxing.

  “Have a seat.”

  He sat down on the sofa then gave her the details. She had elected to head straight home and not stay for the questioning. Not that she could have participated. There had to be some rules they followed.

  “Well, looks like you were right. Mark and Elizabeth devised a well concocted plan to blackmail Rune. They kept their identity anonymous to make sure they stayed within his good graces. They got used to the money and got greedy. When he had a copy of his will delivered to them, they realized they would be living the high life if he and Martha were out of the way. Clarissa would never be able to report them in her condition so they decided to go for it. They stole Mrs. Frost’s laundry and used her yellow housecoat and a wig to lure Rune behind the building. Which, by the way, is what Clyde saw. They hit him over the head, drug him into the freezer, and fed the lock through the tabs, and basically froze him to death. They knew about Vick and his missing manuscript so they took the one in Rune’s briefcase to throw us off. I guess Mark has some lock picking skills, so it wasn’t anything to get the basic lock off the freezer door. When they offered me a copy of the will, they conveniently left out the part about the trustees and who controlled the money. If we had that information, we probably would have figured this thing out a lot sooner.”

  Willow shook her head. “How can people be so cruel?”

  “Something good came out of all of this. Martha is going to be taking care of Clarissa at home. With the money Rune left them, she can afford to hire in round the clock care and have her daughter close by.”

  He picked up the box of dvds. “Hey, I love Seinfeld. No soup for you!” He stated in a terrible Russian accent.

  Willow’s face was blank. “Come on, you’ve got to remember that episode. It’s a classic.”

  She shook her head. “I have never seen an episode of Seinfeld.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously!”

  He cocked his head. “Oh, your hair looks much better.”

  She picked up a handful of popcorn and flung it at him. Clover dove for the small morsels, thankful for the treat.

  He smiled. “I almost forgot. I’ll be right back.” He reappeared with a gift wrapped box. “I have something for you.”

  She started laughing. “A lettuce keeper. Where did you find one?”

  “Oh, don’t you worry about it. I have people.”

  “Clarissa gave it to you, didn’t she?”

  “You know what? You’re too perceptive.”

  She grinned and started the first episode of Seinfeld.

  Willow’s Six Week Muffin Mix

  1 15 ounce package bran flakes

  1 cup vegetable oil

  3 cups sugar

  4 eggs, beaten

  1 qt. Buttermilk

  5 cups flour

  5 teaspoons baking soda

  2 teaspoons salt

  4 teaspoons cinnamon

  1 17 ounce can of fruit cocktail, drained

  Mix bran flakes, sugar, flour, cinnamon, salt and soda in large square container. Add beaten eggs, oil, and milk. Mix well. Fold in drained fruit cocktail. Do not use batter until it has bee refrigerated one full day.

  Dip out, do not stir, when you are ready to make some muffins. (Stirring will break down the leavening and the muffins won’t rise.)

  Bake 15-17 minutes at 400 degrees F. Batter keeps, covered in the refrigerator, for 6 weeks.

  Willow’s Peanut Butter Cookies

  2 ½ cups flour

  1 ½ teaspoon baking soda

  1 teaspoon baking powder

  ½ teaspoon salt

  2 eggs

  1 cup shortening

  1 cup peanut butter

  1 cup sugar

  1 cup brown sugar

  Mix, roll into balls and mash on a greased cookie sheet. Bake 7-9 minutes until lightly browned at 350 degrees F.

  This recipe is Lilly’s best friend’s Mom’s recipe from her days as a Yankee. Thank you, Ruth for such a delicious recipe!

  Willow’s Corn Chowder

  1 pound of bacon pieces (cut up bacon or buy already in bits and pieces)

  ¼ cup olive oil

  3 large onions, chopped

  4 tablespoons butter

  ½ cup flour

  1 teaspoon pepper

  ½ teaspoon turmeric

  12 cups chicken stock

  5 pounds potatoes, peeled and cubed

  3 pounds frozen corn

  2 cups heavy cream

  1 pound of sharp cheddar cheese, divided

  In a large stock pot cook bacon until crisp. Remove bacon and excess bacon grease (leave just enough to cover the bottom of the pot). Add olive oil, butter, and onions to the pot and cook until onions until translucent. About 10 minutes on medium heat.

  Stir in flour, pepper, and turmeric and cook for 3 minutes. Add the chicken stock and potatoes. Bring to a boil. Simmer until potatoes are tender. Add frozen corn. Cook five more minutes. Add heavy cream and ½ the cheese. Stir until melted. Serve hot garnished with bacon and shredded cheese.

  Please enjoy this excerpt from ‘This Little Piggy Wound Up Dead’, Book 3 of the Willow Crier Cozy Mystery Series

  Willow woke to a crash and sat straight up. The dog was whining and pressed up against her. “Some guard dog you are.” She heard the little pings of water hitting her bedroom window. The next rumble of thunder gave her an excellent reason to snuggle deeper down in her covers and keep her eyes closed. She loved sleeping to the sound of rain. In
her opinion, there was no better sleeping conditions. She pat the dog’s head. “It’s just thunder, Clover. Nothing to worry about.”

  She was in that place, in-between consciousness and dreamland when a silent alarm started ringing in her head. It grew louder and as hard as she tried to shut the alarm off, it wouldn’t go away. It was an alarm of concern, of something she was forgetting and needed to address.

  Her eyes opened and she left the warmth of her cocoon and stood by her bedroom window. “It’s raining. So what?” She asked out loud.

  Then it hit her. The BBQ cook off. It was rain or shine.

  Clover was whining at her feet. “All right, girl. I’ll let you out.” She opened the back door and the dog hung out on the patio, looking frightened. “Clover, go on, go potty.” Clover just stared at her. “Oh good grief. Are you kidding me?” She ran out into the back yard with the dog. “Now go potty! Why do both of us have to get wet?” Clover did her thing then ran for the door.

  Willow toweled both of them off on the patio then made her way inside. Everything had been packed up the night before, well, except her duffle bag. She still had a few things to stuff in there. Now she would need ponchos and a few umbrellas. The show must go on.

  “Mom, did you grab the hats I bought?”

  “Already got ‘em. They’re sitting on the counter in the kitchen.” Willow popped her head out of the bedroom door with her hat already perched on her head. The pink hats with the three little pig’s logo were perfect for their first BBQ cook off. “I’m almost ready. Has Steve shown up yet?”

  “He just pulled in. Looks like he has the smoker and the grill in the back of his truck. Should I have him put the coolers in there too?”

  “Yeah, that’ll work.” Willow zipped up her duffle bag and set it by the front door. “I think that’s it.”

  She watched as Steve hoisted the heavy cooler into the back of his truck bed. He had a small pull behind camper hooked up for Willow and Embry to use. He said he would be fine in the bench seat of his truck.

  Willow was excited. This was her first real BBQ cook off. It was the real deal. She had all four required meats in the cooler, brisket, butt, ribs, and chicken. She walked out and handed Steve his hat.

  “Pink, huh?”

  She grinned. “Do you have a problem with that?”

  “Of course not.” He grinned. “Real men wear pink.” He placed the hat on his head. “Do you have more that needs loading?”

  “Nope, I think this about does it.” She tossed her duffle bag into the back of her Jeep. “Everyone ready?”

  The Three Little Pigs caravan pulled into the park just after noon. Willow hopped out of her truck opening an umbrella as she landed then told Steve she was going to check in and figure out where they were supposed to set up.

  She returned with a map and a few minutes later, the three of them were busy getting set up. Getting wet in the process.

  Willow looked around the park, totally in her element. The smell of smoking meat was driving her crazy. Her stomach rumbled. She decided to take a quick walk and meet a few of the other participants. She wandered from camp to camp, introducing herself and pointing back toward her own camp, telling people to stop by anytime.

  Almost everyone was friendly and welcoming. Some were even helpful, giving tips for her first BBQ competition.

  Her feet made squishing sounds with each step she took. Her rain soaked tennis shoes were going to be useless. The only other shoes she brought was a pair of flip flops. She leaned up against a big tree and proceeded to kick them off. Angry voices carried as the rain reduced to a drizzle.

  “Bridget, I told you to stop talking to him. You’re flirting and I won’t have it.”

  “Dean, you don’t own me. There’s no ring on this finger.”

  “Own you? Yeah, I do and you know it. Don’t you ever think otherwise.”

  She heard the unmistakable sound of a slap followed by Bridget angrily saying, “You’re such a pig, do you know that?”

  She saw the back side of Bridget as she stomped back to her camp. She peeked around the other side of the tree to find Dean still cradling his cheek. He started after her. Neither of them noticed Willow.

  When Willow returned to camp, she hung her tennis shoes up to dry inside the camper and slipped on her flip flops. The smoker was ready to roll so she prepared her brisket and butt with her seasonings and secured them in the smoker.

  “Well, for now, that’s that. Anyone want to get a bite to eat? We’ll need to take turns babysitting.”

  Embry yawned. “Why don’t you two run and get something. Bring me back a sandwich. I’m going to take a nap so I’ll be ready for my shift.” She held up her phone. “I’ll set my alarm. No worries.”

  Embry crawled in to the readied camper and left Willow and Steve standing in the rain.

  “Well, I guess she has it all figured out.

  Steve and Willow sat down under a shelter with plates of pulled pork sandwiches, potato salad, and baked beans.

  “This rain is giving me the chills.” She zipped up her sweat shirt. A voice coming from the table next to theirs captured her attention.

  She lowered her voice and told Steve what she had heard earlier when she was out walking.

  “Hey, we aren’t going to have any trouble this weekend. Not with our equipment, not with our neighbors, and certainly not with a pig. I am off duty. So are you.”

  She distractedly nodded in agreement. “Do you think that young man she is talking to is the man Dean warned her off from?”

  “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”

  “Yes, I did. I was just wondering is all. I can wonder, can’t I?”

  Steve shook his head. “No, you are banned from wondering. You cannot wonder until you arrive home Sunday evening.”

  She grimaced then took a bite of her sandwich.

  ***

  Early the next morning Willow crawled out of her bunk and stretched. She smelled coffee. Someone somewhere already had the stuff brewing. It was still dark out. She listened intently. She heard a few hushed voices, a dog barking, a jet ascending, but she didn’t hear the pitter patter of rain. She felt the inside of her shoes. Still damp. She had ten minutes until her turn with the smoker. She had to find a bathroom and coffee. And she had to hurry if she didn’t want Embry upset with her. The girl was downright ornery when she was tired. Hunger made things ten times worse.

  Willow was nearly on top of Dean’s camp when a rather behemoth of a man erupted. “I trusted him to keep this thing going. It was his only job. It’s not even hot anymore.” He turned on the spotlights he had set up around his very large smoker and gathered enough supplies to hopefully get his smoker up and running again. He opened it just as Willow was close enough to hear a string of expletives pour out of the man’s mouth. He slammed it shut and stepped back, as though his eyebrows, nose hairs, and chest hairs had all ignited. His smooth bald head was gleaming in the moonlight.

  He began speaking gibberish. Willow stepped closer, trying to understand what the man was saying. He kept pointing to the smoker. His eyes danced back and forth between her and the closed unit. She finally had enough with the foreign tourist act and opened the smoker. She stared for a brief moment. Inside was a man, positioned with all fours bent, up in the air and an apple in his mouth.

  “Oh goodness. It’s the pig.”

  Author Bio

  Lilly York (aka Darlene Shortridge, author of Contemporary Christian Fiction) is a transplanted northerner living in the southwest with her husband, children, grandchild, and adopted dog, Clover. Her many experiences in learning the southern way of doing things have been the basis for the Willow Crier Cozies. Including but not limited to drivers honking, making obscene gestures, and all the crazy phrases and southern drawl that make communicating a challenge. She wouldn’t change living here for the world though, the people more than make up for any difficulties a different culture presents.

  To stay informed on the whereabouts
and goings-on of the Willow Crier Cozy Mystery Characters as well as upcoming releases, recipes and maybe a clue or two, join Lilly’s e-mail club by going to…

  LillyYork.com

  A Yankee’s Guide to Southern Phrases

  Bless Your Heart: The most back handed kind words spoken in the south. Means, while you’re sweet, you’re also stupid, you don’t quite get it and I feel sorry for you.

  Fixin to: About to do something, almost ready, thinking about doing something.

  Nervous as a long tail cat in a room full of rockin’ chairs: Nervous to the point of being jumpy.

  Reckon: So suppose or believe something is true.

  Yankee: Anyone originating north of the Mason Dixon line.

  Redneck: Polite, blue collar individual who loves hunting, country music, and blue jeans. Add alcohol and anything can happen.

  Y’all: You guys

  All y’all: More than five people

  I could eat the north end of a south-bound polecat: Starving!

  Lil’ Dogie: A motherless calf, a calf separated from its cow.

  Hankering: Craving something

  Fair to middlin’: Doing okay

  Three sheets to the wind: Drunker than a skunk

  Passel: A whole bunch

  To stay informed on the whereabouts and goings-on of the Willow Crier Cozy Mystery Characters as well as upcoming releases, recipes and maybe a clue or two, join Lilly’s e-mail club by going to…

  LillyYork.com

  Also by Lilly York

  The Willow Crier Cozy Mystery Series

  Chili to Die For (Book 1)

  I Scream, You Scream (Book 2)

  This Little Piggy Wound Up Dead (Book 3)

  Southern Fried Son of a Gun (Book 4 – Coming Soon)