Murder at the Moonshine Inn
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Praise for
MURDER AT THE MOONSHINE INN
“Buckle up. Hazel Rose and her book group are not your granny’s amateur sleuths. Southern, sassy, and a wee bit sexy!”
—Mollie Cox Bryan, author of the Agatha-Nominated Cumberland Creek Mysteries
“Colorful characters, dark secrets, and heart make Maggie King’s latest edgy cozy a standout. You’ll be clamoring to join Hazel Rose’s book group.”
—Dianne Emley, L.A. Times bestselling author of the Detective Nan Vining series
“With Murder at the Moonshine Inn, Maggie King has once again created a book group to die for. The investigative techniques and reading choices of Hazel Rose and her friends are equally amusing and suspenseful.”
—Judge Debra H. Goldstein, award-winning author of Should Have Played Poker
“In Murder at the Moonshine Inn, Maggie King distills book clubs, author deadlines, and undercover ops at a redneck bar into a cocktail of pure delight.”
—Diane Vallere, National Bestselling author of the Madison Night Mystery Series
“A brilliant, twisty mystery with fun and memorable characters. King is a writer to watch!”
—LynDee Walker, Agatha Award-Nominated author of Lethal Lifestyles
“When Hazel Rose is asked to look into a grisly murder, she realizes her long lost cousin is the prime suspect. With her book group, she runs into hidden lives, more distant relatives and more bodies.”
—Betsy Ashton, Author of Mad Max Unintended Consequences, and Uncharted Territory, A Mad Max Mystery Mystery
“It’s as if Nancy Drew grew up and put together a crew of smart, funny, brownie-baking avengers.”
—Lyn Brittan, author of the Mercenaries of Fortune Series
“A good mystery teamed with humor and characters you won’t forget make this a read that goes down smooth as a mint julep—with a kick!”
—Sunny Frazier, author of the Christy Bristol Astrology Mysteries
“Hazel Rose and the women of the book group are at it again, investigating two murders while pretending they are doing nothing of the sort! With suspects and possible motives aplenty, they have to consider: Was it for love, for money, or for revenge?”
—Maria Hudgins, author of the Dotsy Lamb Travel Mysteries
“A must read for those who prefer homicide served up with a large dose of hilarity. From the opening scene, where Hazel Rose finds herself—against her better judgment—astride a barstool dressed in her most sensuous “ho” outfit, to the grand finale where Hazel again finds herself in an inappropriate place—this time against her will—King masterfully mixes humor with homicide. Five stars!
—Ellen Elizabeth Hunter, author of Magnolia Mysteries
“Suspense, family secrets, and seduction make Murder at the Moonshine Inn a clever read.”
—Teresa Inge, Virginia is for Mysteries
“Murder at the Moonshine Inn abounds with interesting characters, plot twists and turns and unexpected revelations sure to please mystery fans.”
—Sybil Johnson, author of the Aurora Anderson Mysteries
“Terrific characters that really crackle and lovely, lively dialogue.”
—C.A. Larmer, author of the Agatha Christie Book Club Mysteries
“I love complex, twisty plots: family and friends, love and money—and murder! This book has it all.”
—Vivian Lawry, author of Chesapeake Bay Mysteries and Different Drummer
“If Hazel Rose could say no, she wouldn’t find herself knee deep in another murder case whose list of suspects includes some of her own relatives. In this rollicking fun read, Hazel and her fellow book group members investigate, exposing one astounding secret after another. The murder count goes up and Hazel discovers she’s destined to be Victim Number Three. This second in the Hazel Rose Book Group mysteries series is clever and charming! I thoroughly enjoyed it!”
—Marilyn Levinson, author of the Golden Age of Mystery Book Club Mysteries
“Maggie King delivers a cracker-jack second episode in the Hazel Rose series. The book group is up to its collective nose in murders connected to Hazel’s new-found relatives—and there are plenty of suspects to go around.”
—J. R. Lindermuth, author of the Sticks Hetrick crime series
“Murder at the Moonshine Inn has everything you’d want in a cozy mystery: an intriguing puzzle, the demise of the despised, and a colorful cast of characters including a nosy book group. The insider knowledge of the mystery world, authors, and books makes it a delight for the addicted reader who wants it all in one clever package. Maggie King writes with grace and humor; you won’t be disappointed.”
—Lise McClendon, bestselling author of Blackbird Fly
“Hazel Rose’s reluctant return to murder investigation will have you flipping pages as fast as you can to reach the solution of this engagingly puzzling mystery.”
—Karen McCullough, author of A Gift for Murder and Wired for Murder
“I liked this book from the outset; there’s a quality to the inner voice and a tongue-in-cheek humour that I found appealing. It’s an excellently written story drenched in detail that carries the mounting tension along a treat.”
—Pat McDonald, British crime author
“Move over, Jessica Fletcher! Make way for Hazel and her book group of sixty-something women who do more than read mysteries—they solve murders.”
—Mary Miley, author of the Roaring Twenties mysteries
“Whodunit? Maggie King did! She’s served up a fun, great read in the Murder at the Book Group mysteries. If you’re a cozy reader, you better join her group!”
—Tj O’Connor, author of Dying to Know
“Hazel Rose and her book group are back on the case. From the opening scene where Hazel goes undercover, to the final scene where she comes face-to-face with the killer, this story will keep you turning pages. Fun, fast-paced, and well plotted, this is the perfect ‘cozy’ read.”
—Jayne Ormerod, author of the Blonds at the Beach series
“With a likeable heroine, suspicious deaths, feuding relatives, love triangles, and a peppering of literary references, readers will be kept guessing until the final pages of this enjoyable and saucy whodunit.”
—Kathryn O’Sullivan, author of Foal Play, Murder on the Hoof and Neighing with Fire
“Maggie King has achieved what mystery lovers crave: a surprise ending which makes perfect sense. The clues are there, but Maggie’s sleight of hand weaves them skillfully into a story that has readers looking in every other direction. I highly recommend Murder at the Moonshine Inn to anyone who relishes a great mystery. Hazel Rose and her book group have done it again!”
—Amy M. Reade, bestselling author of House of the Hanging Jade
“Hazel Rose and her book club are back for more discussions and sleuthing in Murder at the Moonshine Inn, a good read and fun romp through Central Virginia. Hazel and her friends need to uncover the killer before he or she strikes again and again!”
—Heather Weidner, author of Secret Lives and Private Eyes
“In Murder at the Moonshine Inn author Maggie King’s smooth style and subtle humor has created a well-crafted cozy mystery that is enriched with plot twists, realistic dialogue, home town references and a list of engaging characters that will keep readers turning its pages.”
—P. J. Woods, author of the Harper Simone mystery novels
Also by Maggie King: Murder at the Book Group
“This promising series debut—edgier and sexier than many cozies— should intrigue anyone who enjoys biblio crime.”
—Booklist
“The characters in this story are fascinating, and for the side of humor that the author delivers, ther
e is definitely a dark side to go along with it.”
—Mary Lignor, Suspense Magazine
“Murder, books, and a book group . . . this is a perfect series for me!”
—Teresa Kander, Book Babble
Murder at the Moonshine Inn:
A Hazel Rose Book Group Mystery
by Maggie King
© Copyright 2016 Maggie King
ISBN 978-1-63393-281-4
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other except for brief quotations in printed reviews—without the prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. The characters are both actual and fictitious. With the exception of verified historical events and persons, all incidents, descriptions, dialogue and opinions expressed are the products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
Published by
210 60th Street
Virginia Beach, VA 23451
800-435-4811
www.koehlerbooks.com
To Glen, with all my love
TABLE OF CONTENTS
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ONE
IF ONLY I could learn to say no, I wouldn’t be perched on a barstool in a redneck bar, breathing secondhand smoke and pretending to flirt with men sporting baseball caps and Confederate bandanas, their eyes riveted on my Victoria’s Secret-enhanced cleavage. I wouldn’t be tricked out in a bizarre hairstyle, frosted blue eye shadow, painted-on jeans with strategically placed slashes, and a two-sizes-too-small Harley Davidson tank top.
I hit the rewind button on my life and stopped a few days earlier, at the point where Phyllis Ross threw a cup of coffee in Nina Brown’s face. How that led to this undercover assignment—finding out who killed a middle-aged drunken woman in the parking lot of the Moonshine Inn—is quite a tale.
•••
When I walked into one of the many Panera restaurants that dotted the Richmond, Virginia landscape I didn’t spot any rednecks. Perhaps they were traveling incognito. The Panera denizens wore standard summer garb: shorts, capris, sandals, T-shirts, with a baseball cap here and there. They sat hunched over laptops or swiping the screens of their smartphones. Some retro types chose to absorb the day’s news on paper.
Trudy Zimmerman’s long white mane made her easy to spot in a booth that overlooked Panera’s patio and the parking lot beyond. When I took the seat next to her, she introduced the woman sitting across from us as Nina Brown.
Nina Brown. Where had I heard that name? Trudy pronounced Nina like the number nine followed by a short a—Nine-ah. Short and long vowels brought back memories of long-ago school days: were vowels still a part of the teaching curriculum?
Nina’s appearance spoke volumes about her health. A heavy layer of makeup didn’t hide the shadows under her dark eyes. Vertical lines bracketed her mouth like parentheses. I wondered if she suffered from depression, perhaps brought on by a serious health condition or recent trauma.
She extended her hand. “Nice to meet you, Hazel,” she assured me in a surprisingly strong and melodious voice, one I associated with telephone sales or disc jockeys.
Trudy had called me the night before, saying she had a friend who needed a favor that apparently only I could grant.
“What sort of favor?”
“I can’t say. She made me promise not to.”
“Huh? What is this, some kind of spy operation?”
“I think you’ll be intrigued by what she has to say. Please, Hazel. Do this for me.”
“For you, huh? Who is this woman? How about a hint?”
“I can’t. I’m sworn to secrecy. Just come and hear her story. You can always say no.”
I’d laughed. “Yeah, just say no.” One would think that at my age I would have learned to say no. But I suspected I’d be filing for Medicare without mastering that useful skill. Oh well, I had two years to work on it.
“Okay, I’ll listen to what she has to say. I’ll say ‘yes’ to that.” We decided on Panera at Stony Point at eight the next morning.
Introductions made, Trudy looked at me and said, “Why don’t you get something and then we’ll chat.” I noted her party hostess tone and gave her a look.
When I returned to the booth with coffee and croissant in hand, Trudy stood to let me slide into the booth. “I might have to leave early. We have a staff meeting at nine-thirty.”
“We” referred to the library where Trudy worked. Great, I thought. I hoped Nina got her tale told before Trudy deserted me.
Nina smiled and started with an icebreaker. “So Hazel, Trudy says you two are in the same book group.”
“Yes, for, what is it, ten years now?” Trudy nodded.
Nina sipped her coffee, bleached by a heavy dose of creamer. “And you’re a writer?”
“Yes, I write romance novels for baby boomers.”
“How many books have you published?”
“Six, so far.”
“A lot of people like your books.”
I smiled. “So, what kind of work do you do?”
“Oh, nothing much right now. I help out at my . . . my sister’s non-profit.” She inhaled heavily and grabbed my arm, startling me. “I have something to ask . . . a favor.”
“Why, Hazel Rose and Trudy Zimmerman. Fancy meeting you here.”
“Hi, Phyllis.” In one voice Trudy and I greeted Phyllis Ross, another member of our book group. Phyllis fixed her attention on Nina—not on us. Her do-I-know-you look was a little too probing, but Phyllis wasn’t known for her subtlety.
Trudy put down her egg sandwich and wiped her mouth before making introductions. “Phyllis Ross, Nina Brown. Nina—”
“So it is you! I can’t believe it.” Phyllis pointed a shaky finger at Nina.
Nina looked alarmed. “Who are you?” she asked.
“Who am I? I’m Phyllis Lassiter Ross. Charlie Lassiter’s sister.”
“Oh! I didn’t recognize you.”
Phyllis glared. “Well, it’s been twenty years.”
I could understand why Nina didn’t recognize her. I’d seen pictures of Phyllis from her younger days and the years hadn’t been kind to her. Likely her love of the sun had accelerated the aging process.
Her face darkening with anger, Phyllis leaned over the table, hovering over Nina. Her brown-going-gray hair fanned out around her head and I covered my mug with my hand lest a stray hair invade my coffee.
“Charlie loved you, may he rest in peace,” Phyllis railed. “But you dumped him like he was yesterday’s garbage. After taking his money for that pyramid scheme.”
“Charlie died?”
“Yes, two years ago.”
Charlie Lassiter had suffered a massive heart attack. At his funeral I’d met his current wife, former wife, his children and grandchildren. I felt sure he was long over Nina. So, why was Phyllis pinning his demise on her?
“Phyllis, I’m sorry he died, but I had nothing to do with it. I hadn’t seen him in years. As for the money, I paid him back.”
“Not according to him you didn’t. Two thousand dollars to invest in nu
trition supplements.” Phyllis gave Nina the once-over. “Obviously a poor investment.”
Trudy and I looked at each other, not sure if we should intervene. But I felt like I had to do something. “Phyllis, please—” I started.
Phyllis ignored me. I hoped she wouldn’t follow in her brother’s footsteps and have a cardiac event. Could one of the device-addicted customers be a doctor? Eyes flashing, she continued to challenge Nina. “So tell me, how many children did you have?”
Nina opened her mouth as if to answer, then closed it.
“You told my brother you wanted children; you said your clock was ticking. Even though when you met him you claimed you didn’t want them.”
“I changed my mind.”
“So how many little rug rats did you have? Or was it all a ruse to get rid of Charlie?”
“I didn’t have children. I broke up with your dear brother because he was a jerk. God rest his soul, but he was a jerk!”
“He loved you and so hoped to get back together. God knows the whole family told him you weren’t worth it.”
“Yeah, I know. He stalked me for two years. And another thing—he was weird sexually.”
Weird sexually? I privately hoped she’d expand on that item. As a romance writer I was always on the lookout for new material.
Up to then the two women had kept their voices modulated, but now Nina amped up her proclamation about Charlie’s peccadillos, pulling people’s attention from their newspapers and electronic devices. It also put Phyllis over the edge. In less time than it took to blink, she picked up Nina’s mug and tossed the contents into her face, adding a few choice expletives.
Nina sat open-mouthed in shock, face and hair dripping with coffee.
I handed Nina my napkin and Trudy’s. “Are you burned?” Trudy made a dash for the napkin dispenser on a nearby condiment station.
“No, just wet.” Nina wiped her face. No doubt she could thank her over-creaming habit for cooling her coffee enough to save her from injury.