Traveling Town Cozy Mystery Box Set

by Ami Diane

  “So,” she said, leaning forward and pulling out what she hoped was a stale fry that she’d been sitting on, “what do you make of this weather we’ve been having?”

  His face lit up. “Strange, very strange, indeed. The light surface winds we’ve been experiencing point to advection fog. However, I went up to the top of Twin Hills yesterday, and the conditions are the same, which means the vertical extension stretches at least that far.

  “My hypothesis is that there’s a lot of volcanic activity nearby, which is supported by the landscape. Although, we haven’t felt any seismic activity…”

  She listened with rapt interest at first, then her mind drifted as the light bounced around off his shiny, slicked back hair while he spoke. He really did remind her of Count Chocula, which made her stomach clench with hunger. She’d only eaten a banana for breakfast, too rushed to grab anything more.

  She realized with a start that he was staring expectantly at her as if he’d just asked a question. “How’s that?”

  “I asked if there was anything I could do for you?”

  “Oh, right. I had some questions… about Charles.”

  Sal stiffened and tented his fingers together on the desk, reminding her of a bad guy in at least a dozen different movies.

  Innocent until proven guilty, she reminded herself.

  “You were leasing this building from him, correct?”

  “Indeed.”

  “And how was that going?”

  His eyebrows rose a fraction. “Just fine. Dandy, really.” Sal leaned back, warming to the topic. “Despite his… shall we call them moral eccentricities? He was a fair landlord as far as business leases are concerned.”

  “What happened if the rent money came in late?”

  “I don’t know. I never had that problem.”

  “But this is Keystone, and you hear things.”

  “Indeed. Occasionally, I’d hear of another lessor paying him late or not enough. He came down hard on them.”

  “How hard?”

  “Nothing more than the exchange of a few heated words.”

  “Anyone skip out on a payment lately?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. You flatter me in thinking I know more about his situation than others.” His lips pinched together before he added, “Why are you asking me these questions?”

  “Because you, like Jenny, have your ear to the ground and hear things.”

  At the mention of the hairdresser’s name, he blinked, and an emotion Ella couldn’t decipher flashed across his features. It was so fleeting, she wondered if she’d imagined it.

  “As do you at Grandma’s Kitchen.”

  “Most of the time, yes. But that’s what’s so unusual,” she said.

  Bending closer, she pierced him with a steady gaze, doing her best impression of Chapman, who was doing his best impression of Clint Eastwood—whether he knew who the actor was or not.

  “You see,” she continued, “I have a hobby, too. I’ve been going round and round Charles’s murder, and I got to be honest, not a whole lot about it makes sense. I mean, it should be a straight forward case. It should be easy to catch the bad guy in a house full of witnesses, but that’s not how this is shaping up. And what I keep coming back to is you.”

  “Me?”

  “You’re the anomaly. You left at, or just before, the murder. And your alibi is Patience, above all people. Where were you just before you left, Sal? You never said.”

  His face reddened as if he were biting his tongue. “I don’t have to answer to you.”

  “No, but if you’re innocent, it sure would go a long way to prove it.”

  “Chapman already took my prints and compared them to the murder weapon. He already cleared me, Miss Barton.”

  The small room lapsed into a tense silence, filled only by the sound of his heavy breathing. His nostrils flared, and a vein stuck out on his neck.

  When it was clear he wasn’t going to answer her questions, she scraped the chair back and rose. “For what it’s worth, I do think you’re innocent, but I’ve been wrong before. This time, I hope I’m right.

  “You’re hiding something, though, even if I don’t know what it is yet.” Her hand rested on the cold knob as she paused. “But I will find out. Whatever it is, Sal, it can’t be as bad as being accused of murder.”

  With that, she stepped out into the hall, the smell of the barbershop nearly knocking her over.

  She popped her head back through the doorway, and her tone came out much lighter. “It might be a good idea to leave this door open a bit. You mind? It kind of smells like a men’s locker room in here. I didn’t want to say anything but—”

  Sal snapped. He lobbed an instrument at her—one of the pointy-looking ones. She ducked out of sight just in time, feeling the wind it created as it flew past her ear and crashed into the wall behind her.

  “Yep, okay. I can take a hint. Pretend the last thing I said was that scary bit about being accused of murder.” She danced back as Sal’s hand reached for another instrument, something brass with glass and liquid.

  As Ella jogged through the shop, drawing stares for her haste as much for the string of curse words Sal was shouting, she decided two things. One, it might be a good idea to focus on another lead for the time being. Two, if Keystone ever started a softball league, she’d be sure to recruit the barber as the pitcher.

  She burst through the front door. The cool air was a reprieve from the suffocating blanket of scents inside. Once she’d taken in several lungfuls of fresh air and put distance between herself and the shop, her thoughts returned to the murder.

  There was one more angle to pursue in regards to Charles’s leasing and buying up Main Street. Someone who had turned the victim down. Someone who had refused to be bought out.

  But to get answers, she would need to enlist the Troublesome Twosome.

  Chapter 19

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE I’m back here.” Ella’s shoulders slumped as she, once again, took in the seedy interior of the Half Penny. The place was crawling, but she supposed that was standard for a Friday night in a small town.

  At the bar, Lucky worked the counter alongside another man while a server ran the floor.

  When Ella shuffled her feet forward, her soles stuck to the wood floor, which they hadn’t done the last time she’d been in.

  “Cheer up, El.” Wink nudged her forward. “Besides, this was your idea.”

  “I feel like I need a tetanus shot for just looking at this place. Flo, you okay?”

  Beside her, the crazy woman fluttered her lashes and winked at some poor, young sap across the bar. “I’ll see you around, ladies.”

  She made it one step before Ella was pulling her back, her not-beehive bouffant hair wobbling atop her head. “No robbing cradles tonight for you, missy. You’re supposed to be helping me catch a killer.”

  “We can’t all talk to Lucky. Besides, you wanna hear the scuttlebutt around town, don’t you? Find out what it is you’ve missed?”

  “Yes,” Ella replied warily.

  “I bet that young man knows a whole lot.”

  “Ew.”

  “Hey.” Wink’s eyes were on Flo’s quarry also, so when she reached out to tap her friend’s shoulder, she missed and knocked Flo’s glasses askew. “I think he was one of your students.”

  “Nonsense.” After Flo shoved Wink’s hand aside and affixed her glasses in their proper place, she zeroed in on the lad. Her face fell. “Oh, so he is. That’s Jacob Cartwright.”

  Ella made a show of gagging. “Gross, Flo. He’s got to be a couple of decades your junior.” She paused and scanned the woman from her skyscraper hair to her red and white penny loafers. “Make that three decades your junior. Not that I’m judging. But I am. A lot.”

  Ella led them over to the bar where the volume of noise increased exponentially, due in large part to a raucous game of poker at a nearby table. She leaned close to Flo, shouting, “You were a teacher?”

  “Sunday Sch
ool.”

  Ella’s mouth fell open, and she took a moment to collect herself. “Alright, I’m laying down a rule. From now on, if they have most of their hair and the majority of it is still the color they were born with, you have to look the other way.”

  Flo stuck out her tongue, then she leaned against the counter, scoping out her next victim.

  Shaking her head, Ella spoke in Wink’s ear to be heard. “How am I supposed to question Lucky in this noise?”

  “You’ll get a chance. It always gets a bit rowdy after Six wins a hand, then it dies down.”

  Ella craned her head around, noticing the outlaw for the first time. He sat with his boots on the poker table, mud flaking off on the green felt as he held up his cards. Smoke curled from a lit cigarette between his lips.

  “I miss the days when smoking indoors was prohibited. Also, isn’t public gambling or gaming illegal?”

  “Is it?” Wink waved at the bartender—not Lucky—trying to get his attention.

  “Actually, I’m not sure,” Ella said. “I think it’s up to the state’s discretion. And around here, Chapman’s the law, a man from gun-toting saloon days full of tuberculosis, snuff, and wild west shootouts. Which means, of course, he’s going not going to bat an eye at a few card players in plain sight.”

  As Six laid out his cards to another chorus of threats, he caught Ella’s eye. He winked at her then scooped up his earnings.

  The other bartender swept past, still oblivious to Wink’s attempts to get his attention. She’d resorted to leaning across the bar, waving frantically like an air traffic controller.

  “If he can’t notice someone in bright pink hair, waving their hands about and practically laying on top of the bar, then he’s probably partially blind.”

  “It’s too crowded.” Wink slid down onto a stool. “That, and I’m not young enough.”

  Ella clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Well, that’s agist on his part.” Wink stared at her. “What? Oh, agist is a term—”

  “Not that. You came here ‘cause you wanted to speak with Lucky, right?” She inclined her head at the other end of the bar where the owner’s fiery hair caught the light in blazes of copper. “Well, now’s your chance. Go talk to him.”

  “He’s not going to be very forthcoming with so many people around.”

  “He will if you flirt. Bat your eyes, show a little ankle—”

  “A little ankle?” Ella teased. “Don’t go all Fifty Shades of Grey on me now.”

  “Just go get what you need so we can get out of here. And get him to give us some water while you’re at it.”

  Ella’s feet hit the sticky floor. “Sure thing. What about Flo?”

  They both glanced over to where their friend was lips-deep in a glass of what was probably whiskey, laughing alongside Jacob and a circle of his friends who appeared equally as young.

  Ella made a noise cross between a hiss and a growl. “What did we just talk about? Can you at least run interference before we have a child groom on our hands?”

  Wink shrugged. “She’s probably just reminiscing, but don’t worry about it. I’ll handle her.”

  They parted, each with their assignments. This time, she did resist the urge to hum the Mission Impossible theme song. Something about navigating around drunk strangers in a room decorated between a frontier saloon and a speakeasy didn’t make her feel like a secret agent.

  When she reached the end of the bar, she was relieved to find it slightly less crowded, meaning that there was now room for her shoulders but not room enough if she got the sudden urge to do jumping jacks.

  Lucky spotted her, and his eyes quickly narrowed. It took her a moment of sifting through her memory to remember their last interaction hadn’t been so pleasant.

  “Evening, Lucky.” She flashed him her best smile, but this only resulted in his eyes narrowing to slits.

  “What do you want?”

  Wink had said to flirt. Ella thought she remembered how but wasn’t overly confident.

  She leaned forward and fluttered her eyelashes.

  “Something in your eye?”

  “Nope.” She straightened and sighed. “Can I get two glasses of water, please?”

  After roaming about, he returned and deposited two glasses of water with as much delicacy as a caveman, causing liquid to slosh onto the counter.

  “Uh, thanks,” she said, but he was already several feet away, bending his head towards a customer to hear their order.

  Across the way, the poker table burst with shouts as loud as a sports bar on Super Bowl Sunday. Judging by the threats leveled at Six and the smug look on his face, the outlaw had won another hand.

  Tuning them out, Ella sipped her water before walking across the room to Flo’s harem of young men to take Wink’s drink to her.

  “I struck out,” she said, handing the cup over.

  “Well, what are you doing telling me about it?” Wink said before sipping her water. “Go try again.”

  “Hey, Poodle Head.” Flo nodded at Ella. “I want you to meet someone.” She introduced Jacob, adding, “and he’s single,” with a not-so-subtle wink.

  So, that’s what the old woman was up to. Ella shook the young man’s hand who, by all accounts, was handsome.

  “How do you do?” she asked before she could stop herself. Crap, she was already sounding like a local. “Jacob, I have a bit of a bold question, if you don’t mind me asking. How old are you?”

  “Nineteen, ma’am.”

  Ella swore under her breath, turned to Flo, and said, “Too young. For both of us. Move along.” Then to Jacob, she said, “Nice to meet you.”

  Turning, she headed back to the bar for another crack at Lucky, wondering if she wouldn’t have to start keeping Flo on a tighter leash.

  “Back for more water?” Lucky asked when he spotted her, his eyes flashing dangerously. He was clearly on to her ruse.

  “Yes, it was just so delicious.”

  “That why you still have some left?”

  Ella glanced down at the cup in her hand and quickly guzzled it. “I don’t know what you mean. Can I have some more water, please?”

  Muttering to himself, the barkeep wandered off to refill her glass, buying her a few precious moments to come up with a new tactic.

  As he slammed her freshly filled cup in front of her, Six let out a string of swear words loud enough to be heard over the din of conversation and music.

  A muscle behind Lucky’s beard twitched. This was perfect. Six could be her in.

  “I can get rid of him for you.”

  “How do you mean? Permanently?”

  “What? God, no. What is this, the Godfather? I’m not talking about killing him. Just… I can get him to leave tonight.”

  Lucky waved off a patron trying to get his attention and bent close enough to Ella that she could smell his dinner on his breath. Grilled chicken and potatoes.

  “I’m listening.”

  “That’s it. I’ll get him out of here for tonight.”

  “Doll, the last time I threatened to throw him out, he shot up my windows. Those ain’t easy to replace, you know.”

  “Don’t I know it,” she muttered. “And I think you’re underestimating my feminine wiles.”

  “Your what?”

  She waved her hand dismissively. “Doesn’t matter. Point is, I’ll get him out, quietly, without any backlash against you.”

  “In exchange for…?”

  “You answer a few of my questions.”

  The bar owner clicked his tongue. “Knew there was a catch.” The bulbs above cast shadows around his already deep-set eyes, making him appear menacing. The way his thick biceps flexed as he wiped out the glass in his hands also didn’t help her feel at ease. “Not interested, doll.”

  Disappointment sank in her chest. “Don’t you even want to know what my questions are regarding?”

  His hand froze inside the glass, his bicep now a ball. “Not interested,” he repeated through clenched
teeth.

  The poker table across the way erupted. Someone tipped over the card table, sending it on its side with a crash that Ella felt in her feet.

  Six leaped from his chair, whipping his revolver out of its holster. This resulted in a similar action by the other card players, and a moment later, quick as lightning, half a dozen gun barrels pointed at each other.

  From out of nowhere, Lucky stalked forward like a lion in a cage, a baseball bat magically in his hands.

  “Get out!” he roared, swinging the bat through the air, narrowly missing a player.

  Chairs crashed to the floor as all across the bar, people dove for cover. Those closest to the entrance were fortunate enough to bolt outside.

  Lucky pointed his bat at the poker players. “Out, right now! All of you!”

  The room fell deathly silent, save for the jukebox playing Hank Williams’s I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry.

  A few of the players lowered their weapons. One spat on the ground before taking his finger off the hammer of his gun and replacing the weapon in his holster.

  Six, however, slowly trained the barrel of his revolver around to Lucky. “I’ll leave when I get what’s mine.”

  “You’ll leave now.”

  “You want a hole in that head of yours?” Six growled and closed one eye, aiming.

  Before she could rethink her decision, Ella jumped in front of Lucky. Somewhere in the deep recess of the room behind her, she heard Wink call out to her, telling her to get out of the way.

  Ella held up her hands. The outlaw flinched, but he didn’t lower his gun. “Out of the way, darlin’. This don’t involve you.”

  “How about no one dies tonight, Six? I think one dead body at a time is enough, don’t you?” She held his dark eyes a moment before looking over her shoulder at the barkeep. “What if he takes half of his earnings then leaves?”

  Lucky stared past her at the outlaw. After a long moment, he scratched his beard with the tip of the bat. “Yeah, fine. Whatever. Just so long as he leaves within the next minute.”

  One of the other gamblers protested. “But he was cheating. That money ain’t his.”

  Six leveled his deep voice, full of gravel and rage, at the man. “I ain’t no four-flusher.”