Traveling Town Cozy Mystery Box Set

by Ami Diane

  His mustache bristled, and he divided a look between Ella and Flo. “Ladies? You got something you wanna tell me?”

  Ella shrugged. “Maybe he learned how to pick locks?”

  “Your hair’s messed up.” Flo pointed at his silver coif.

  Chapman shook his head and dropped onto a stool, folding his long legs underneath. Lines strained his forehead and eyes, and he appeared more harassed than usual.

  Rose set a cup of coffee before him without bothering to ask if he wanted one. He thanked her and slurped. It wasn’t until he replaced the cup on the counter that he noticed how tense the room was.

  “I miss something?”

  Jimmy leaned against the counter by the radio and hooked a finger towards the device. “Joe just put out an announcement.”

  “‘Bout the new curfew? That’s good. Maybe folks’ll stay home.”

  “That. And more.” From the table, Will sucked in a deep breath then told Chapman what had been said.

  As was his way, the sheriff’s countenance remained etched in granite, all lines and leathery skin.

  “I see.” He took a long draught from his cup, draining the dark brew, then stood. “So that’s that, huh?”

  He placed the cup in the sink, thanked Rose, and strode through the swinging door. That was it? He wasn’t even going to deny the accusation?

  By the expressions on the faces of those around the table, the others were just as perplexed.

  Ella jumped from her chair and bolted after him. Her feet carried her through the long, dark hallway as she called out to him. She caught up to Chapman in the entrance hall, under the crystal chandelier. It cast rainbow gems of light all about them.

  He shoved his hat on his head. “Did you need something, Ms. Barton?”

  Ella bit her lip, hesitating. “I guess, I just want to know why.”

  “Why, what?”

  “Why were you so lenient on Six when others have taken lumps for far less?”

  Chapman studied her in silence so long she worried he hadn’t heard her. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and even. “So, because some man with a banjo tells you something, you believe it?”

  “Ukulele,” she corrected, but her heart wasn’t in it. “It wasn’t just Joe. I read it in a history book.”

  “A book, huh? Then it must be true.”

  His boots thumped over the hardwood floor, but he paused again in the entryway. “History’s no more than people’s interpretations of facts.”

  “‘History is written by the victors’,” she quoted softly.

  “And it’s true. I’ve noticed, not one person’s asked the man himself what’s true.”

  The way his eyes bore into hers made her squirm.

  “I expected more from you, Ms. Barton.”

  Ella stared at the murder board, trying to focus on what they’d gleaned so far, but her mind kept returning to Six. Roughly an hour had elapsed since the radio announcement, but the way Chapman had chided her still smarted.

  Also serving as a distraction was a certain handsome inventor who sat on the bed, puzzling at the dry erase marks on the mirror. It had taken far less explanation of the naming convention of the room and board than it had for Flo and Wink. Fluffy lay beside Will on the bed, stretched out and dead to the world.

  Narrowing her eyes, she focused on the board and picked up the foam finger that she’d brought in from her room, for no other reason than to cheer herself up.

  “Tell me again, what purpose that serves.” Will’s eyes were on the finger.

  She waved it through the air. “Bolsters team spirit.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Give it a try.” She tossed it to him and waited while he slipped his hand inside. “See? Don’t you just—” she inhaled “—feel better?”

  “My hand itches. Also, it’s sweaty inside.”

  She retrieved the finger, saying that he just didn’t understand the marvels of her era then pointed out that the room felt like a sauna and he should try encapsulating his hand in foam for several minutes and not get it sweaty.

  Slipping the foam finger back on, she ran the comically large red pointer down the list of suspect names, murmuring each one aloud. She paused at Dirty-jeans Guy and tapped the finger to her head in thought. She’d forgotten to ask if he’d gone straight from the library to the debate.

  She looked at Will in the mirror, and his eyes locked on her in a way that sent her stomach plunging towards her feet. “You arrived early at the debate, right?”

  “At least fifteen minutes.”

  “Was that rancher there, the one all bent out of shape about not getting his electric fence?”

  “George?” Will’s brows furrowed before he said, “Yes, he was already there. He asked me to help at the ranch.”

  Ella looked at the name on the board again. The man remained the strongest suspect, and the fact that he lived next door to the victim seemed too much of a coincidence.

  She scratched her chin with the foam finger. A muffled explosion vibrated the floorboards which she ignored. Flo had descended into her basement of horrors right after dinner, and Wink had wandered off to the conservatory where Chester had been relegated after he and Fluffy had knocked over one of Rose’s favorite lamps.

  “I read through that story on the computer again.”

  She turned. “Really?”

  “Something wasn’t sitting right, so I looked through the entries again.”

  So, it hadn’t been just her.

  “Did you find what was off about them?”

  Reaching out, he absently stroked Fluffy’s long fur. “They feel too real. There’s too much detail.”

  “Maybe it is real.”

  His mouth quirked up. “You have goblins in your era?”

  “No. Well, certain celebrities and politicians might qualify—but that’s beside the point.”

  She stared out the window. The clear sky had been smothered by black clouds. “Maybe it’s not some kid’s rambling fantasy, but an actual journal. Or maybe they’re one and the same.”

  She winced, realizing she wasn’t making sense.

  “Like a thinly veiled allegory?”

  “Exactly.”

  If so, then that line of thought led to larger questions. Who was the knight? And who was the goblin queen? And why had the entries suddenly stopped?

  She was just facing the suspect list again when the storm that had been rolling in released a crack of thunder that rattled the windows. The lights flickered.

  Sighing, she decided to find a lantern before being plunged into darkness. Her standby flashlight (her phone) was currently charging in her room.

  In the entrance hall downstairs, she and Will ran into Jimmy.

  “Came for a flashlight?” He ducked behind the disused check-in desk.

  “That or a lantern.” She helped him rummage around.

  “Lanterns would be better. We don’t have many batteries left.” He set one by the lamp on the desk which flickered, his eyes doing a double take at the foam finger still on her hand.

  “Have I told you about rechargeable batteries yet?” she asked Will.

  “A few times.”

  Will lit a flame behind the smoky hurricane glass of the kerosene lantern. Beside them, the telephone rang.

  Jimmy was the first to reach it. His greeting was cut short by whoever was on the other end. Slowly, the edges of his mouth turned down, and his eyes hardened.

  “I’ll not be part of a mob. No. I’ll do no such thing.” He slammed the phone back into its cradle.

  “What was that about?”

  “Trouble.” His eyes flashed with anger. “You two armed?”

  The question took her aback, and she wondered for a moment if he’d confused her for Flo.

  “Just this.” She lifted the foam finger.

  Will patted his suit jacket. “I have my .45.”

  “Get one of Crazy Flo’s crowd control-whatever-it’s-called and meet me outside.”

  Out
side?

  The urgency in the innkeeper’s voice sent ice through her veins. She and Will ran towards the hall that led to the basement.

  To underscore the bad feeling she had, another peal of thunder rumbled outside. How many more surprises could this day possibly hold?

  “I know just the weapon to grab,” Will said as they reached the top of the basement steps. “I recently finished recalibrating it after it melted part of my fence.”

  He descended into the darkness before she could clarify that she’d heard correctly. As she recalled, the inventor had a wooden fence. She was no chemist, but she thought it impossible for wood to melt.

  And he’d just finished recalibrating a weapon capable of such a feat. Perhaps Flo’s unrequited love wasn’t far off its mark.

  “Maybe you should be dating that old bag instead of me,” she called after him.

  From a distant part of the inn, she heard the front door open as Jimmy went to face this new, unknown problem alone.

  “Hurry, Will!”

  Chapter 27

  LIGHTNING FORKED ACROSS a dark sky. It wasn’t raining, but the color and shape of the clouds told Ella it could unleash a torrent at any moment. The street lamps were on, their amber orbs revealing an angry mob in the middle of the street.

  The crowd marched as one globulous mass. And they were livid. The fact that they were taking such risk being outside, clearly ignoring the new curfew, and in waning light, spoke volumes to how angry they were—not that the pitchforks, shotguns, and shouting hadn’t.

  “They do not look happy,” Ella murmured.

  She, Jimmy, and Will stood in the street, facing the mob. Cradled in the inventor’s arms was a familiar-looking weapon. She hadn’t gotten a good look at it until now.

  “Is that the Ghost Blaster III? You grabbed that as your crowd control weapon?”

  It glinted ominously. The first time Flo had shown it to Ella, she’d thought it looked like the love child between a rifle and a fishing pole.

  She looked back at the crowd in panic. “You realize that blasted a hole through a garage wall, right?”

  Will glanced down at it, unconcerned. “I repurposed it, fine-tuned the wavelength it fires.”

  Just to be on the safe side, Ella shuffled a few steps away.

  “What are they doing?” Jimmy asked.

  The horde of angry townsfolk had amassed outside the Half Penny several blocks away. Leave it to a bar to remain open even during the darkest of times.

  Thunder reverberated through the air as several entered the building. They came out moments later, dragging a listless figure in a cowboy hat. The crowd roared.

  “They found him.” She looked helplessly along the dark windows and empty sidewalks. “Where’s Chapman?”

  Someone kicked Six, and he collapsed to the pavement. They flocked around him, cheering into the night.

  Ella’s heart squeezed. “We have to stop them. They’ll kill him.”

  Without waiting for a response from either gentleman, she ran towards the throng, screaming, “Stop!”

  She used her sharp elbows to cut a path through the bodies to the outlaw, making sure to step on several toes in the process. This garnered more than a few glares and several dirty words.

  Standing over the prone gunslinger, she screamed again, startling those kicking him. They stopped.

  “Outta the way, woman,” a man with bushy mutton chops growled.

  At her feet, Six sported a bloody nose, a swollen eye, and a fat lip. But it was the utter defeat in his one good eye that lay waste to her heart. The fire was gone, and he seemed to have surrendered to his fate.

  Will and Jimmy reached the edge of the grumbling mass.

  “Everyone, back away!” Will brandished the fishing rod-rifle hybrid. Unsurprisingly, the nonthreatening-looking weapon didn’t affect the crowd.

  A burly man stepped closer to Ella and the fallen Six. His size and menacing snarl were slightly diminished by his bright red thermal union suit, complete with butt flap.

  “Did ya not hear the announcement, Will? You know what he’s done?”

  “I did, Phil. And that’s just hearsay. Since when do we attack someone over a rumor?”

  Ella implored the faces around her, familiar ones. Regulars at the diner. These were her friends, her neighbors, yet they were attacking one of their own like a pack of blood-thirsty carnivores.

  Another flash of lightning tore across the sky, giving their enraged expressions an unworldly look. Thunder boomed, but they were not enticed by the storm to return home. No, she could see it in their eyes. This mob wouldn’t be sated until they got their pound of flesh.

  “Will’s right,” Ella said loudly. “We’ve only heard one version of events.”

  “Well, he ain’t defending himself,” someone near the back shouted.

  A chorus of agreement rose but was drowned out by another round of thunder.

  At her feet, Six continued to lay still, a shadow of his former self. He looked like a wounded animal who wanted to be put out of his misery.

  Jimmy turned a slow circle, looking each one in the face. “Not here, not now. This isn’t the proper venue.”

  Red Pajama Man lumbered closer, close enough for Ella to see the pit stains on his clothes, smell the grease in his hair.

  “That’s not your decision. That law dog’s proved he ain’t worth his salt. We the people get to decide his fate.”

  “That’s not lawful.”

  Lightning struck a tree in the park, and thunder boomed. A moment later, the clouds opened up, and warm rain fell in sheets.

  Jimmy’s hands curled into fists. “All of you go home. Now. This is your final warning.”

  “And if we don’t?” Pajama Man growled.

  Jimmy nodded at Will and the innocuous-looking Ghost Blaster III.

  “Last chance,” Will warned, raising the weapon to his shoulder like a rifle.

  “I’d listen if I were you.” Ella made sure to duck as Will swung the weapon around.

  The crowd thinned, as the rain continued to pour, but not enough. With a warning look from Will, Ella dropped beside Six, instructing him to stay still.

  The blaster emitted its signature high-pitched whine that was almost out of hearing range and probably made dogs go nuts. The air vibrated, and for some unknown reason, she tasted metal on her tongue.

  She had just enough time to say, “That’s new,” before Will pushed a button and snapped the rod out like he was casting a line.

  Nothing happened.

  Nothing directly related to the weapon, anyway. Incongruous to every weapon from Flo’s armory, it made no explosions, no sounds, and didn’t even light up.

  However, it had a tremendous effect where he’d aimed the end. People dispersed, screaming and covering their ears. Their clothes whipped about as if in an invisible tornado.

  Quickly, the mob became a handful of stubborn holdouts who’d yet to feel the power of the improved Ghost Blaster III. Within less than a minute, it was just the three of them standing in the street and Six still on the ground.

  Ella’s wet clothes adhered to her skin as the rain continued to pour. Reaching down, she held out a hand to the outlaw. He was slow to grasp it.

  As they walked down the street, his steps faltered. He moved more in a zig-zag pattern that was either the result of his beating or the alcohol he’d consumed.

  Jimmy looked past Ella at the dejected cowboy. “We’ll take him back to the inn. Let him clean and sober up.”

  She could do no more than nod. Her emotions were spent, and she didn’t even have the energy to care that they were splashing through puddles. Her world was an ocean wave, churning, battering her against the rocks, and she couldn’t see the way to the surface.

  She sloshed through a rising creek at the edge of the street as she angled towards the wrought iron arch for the inn.

  Home.

  The sky lit up again, and she waited for the roll of thunder, but it never came. The cloud
s were softening like a reverse sunset, and the rain stopped abruptly as if someone had flipped a switch. Electricity forked all around, different than lightning, creating a purple, hazy dome.

  She breathed in the familiar scent of burning ozone. “Oh, thank God.”

  For the rest of her days, she never wanted to see another dinosaur, and that included movies and museum displays.

  As the last word died on her lips, the town jumped.

  Chapter 28

  ELLA WOKE UP late Saturday morning, stiff from the previous day’s adventures, but with renewed focus. Maybe she couldn’t see a way through the storm of events at the moment, but she would tread water until she could.

  In the kitchen, she poured a cup of coffee from the percolator on the stove and listened to Rose and Flo console Wink about leaving Peanut behind. The diner owner used a cloth napkin to dab at the corners of her eyes.

  “I just hope he’ll be okay.”

  Chester, who sported a basketball uniform today, climbed onto Wink’s shoulder. She nuzzled the pet.

  Beside her, Rose pressed her lips into a tight line but didn’t chide the creature for being near their food.

  “Does anybody know where we are, yet?” Ella scooped up a blueberry muffin from a plate on the table. It was still warm and melted the butter as she slathered it on.

  “Looks like another ocean.”

  Her heart sank a little, but after their last location, she’d take it. Statistically, it made sense and surprised her that they didn’t jump more often to the middle of a body of water.

  Flo slapped her best friend on the back. “At least voting’s opening today.”

  This earned a groan as Wink buried her head in her hands.

  Rose caught Ella’s confused expression and explained, “They announced it on the radio. The booths were set up at the church a few days ago and were never broken down after the postponement was announced.”

  “Ah,” Ella said around a mouthful of muffin.

  Through the window, a morning sun glimmered on the lake. The back door was open to release the heat that had been building in the mansion for the past week.

  A cool breeze played in, and she reveled in the fresh air. “I hope we didn’t leave the professor behind.”