Misalignment and Murder
Page 1
Cathy Tully
Misalignment and Murder
A ChiroCozy Mystery Book 2
First published by Visions and Revisions Unlimited 2021
Copyright © 2021 by Cathy Tully
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.
First edition
ISBN: 978-1-7364467-1-3
Cover art by Daniela Colleo of StunningBookCovers.com
This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy
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Contents
Cast of Characters
Map of Peach Grove, Georgia
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Angie’s Italian Frittata
Larraine’s Three Cheese Macaroni and Cheese.
Angie’s Pepperoni Lasagna with Marinara sauce
Glossary
About the Author
Also by Cathy Tully
Cast of Characters
Susannah’s Clan
Larraine Moore - Dr. Shine’s Office Manager
Tina Cawthorn - Assistant to Dr. Shine
Angela “Angie” Rossi - Susannah’s sister
Caden Rossi - Angie’s son
Henry the Eighth - Susannah’s Betta fish
Rusty - Office cat
Peach Grove Business Association
Bitsy Long – Owner of Peachy Things
Marcie Jones - Owner of the Wing Shack
Travis Keene - Owner of America’s Finest
Maggie Hibbard - Owner of Cutz & Curlz
Daniel Kim - Southside Insurance Agency
Peach Grove Police Department
Randy Laughto - Police Chief
Keith Cawthor - Officer & Tina’s husband
Owen Chaffin - Officer
Detective Varina Wither - Detective
Little Junior Long - Desk Sargent
Bitsy’s Family
Andrea Long - Bitsy’s Niece
Fanny Vincent-Long - Cousin & head cook at Scout camp
Jamal Long - Nephew & Andrea’s brother
Kiara Long - Cousin & owner of Apollo
Little Junior Long - Cousin & Sargent at the Peach Grove PD
Shanice Long - Cousin & owner of a print shop
LaDonna Long - Cousin & clerk at the Peach Grove Water Department
Map of Peach Grove, Georgia
CHAPTER ONE
All Hail the Nephew’s Here
“Here comes trouble,” Dr. Susannah Shine commented to Henry the Eighth, her betta fish, who was swimming circles around the green Marimo moss ball in his tank. Her seven-year-old nephew leapt out of her sister’s car and careened toward the front door of Peach Grove Chiropractic. Susannah left her desk to intercept him before he could commence banging.
Caden Rossi ran in, breathless. “Halloween is almost here!” he cried. “Can you take me to the Halloween camp-out this weekend? Jamal and his auntie are going to be there. Can you, can you?” Caden scooped up Rusty, the marmalade cat who called the office his home, and gave him a squeeze.
“Mrow,” Rusty said.
Caden ignored him, stroking him with one dirty hand and holding him tight with the other. “I get to sleep in a tent, and cook over a campfire, and go on a haunted trail.”
“What’s this now?” Susannah turned to her sister, who appeared in the doorway, Caden’s backpack and juice box in hand. “Camping? In the woods?”
Angela Rossi ignored the question. “Caden, let go of the cat.” Rusty’s golden eyes remained placid as he wiggled until he was dangling by his front paws. He squirmed out of Caden’s grasp and sprinted past Angie, who jumped back, grabbing the wall for support. The cat was across the parking lot before she regained her balance. “Only you, Suzie. A bone cracker and a cat rescuer.”
Newly relocated from Brooklyn, Angie pronounced the word cracker as cracka. Susannah smiled. “We adjust spines, Ange. We don’t crack bones.”
“Uh-huh.” Angie peered down the hall toward the adjusting rooms. “Are ya sure Caden won’t bother anyone? I could put off my errands—”
“It’s fine.” Susannah took Caden’s book bag and walked him to the break area, where she placed the book bag on the table. “We have plenty of space away from the patient treatment rooms. Now about this camp-out.”
Angie rolled her eyes. “Caden, go wash your hands.”
Susannah watched her nephew walk down the hall to the washroom. Asking her newly divorced sister to move in with her had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, and she was shocked and pleased when Angie took her up on it. She and Angie had never been particularly close, and Peach Grove, Georgia, was a far cry from the family home in Brooklyn, New York. After two months, Angie’s post-divorce funk was starting to lift, and Caden seemed to be thriving. He had confided in her that he didn’t want to go to the Fall Festival, but Angie made no mention of that. Being an aunt was sometimes more than Susannah had bargained for. “You know I hate being in the woods.”
“Yeah, about that. Ya know I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t have to.” Angie shook out her black hair and gazed up at her younger sister. Her Brooklyn accent caused her to pronounce ask as axe. Susannah shuddered. She had lived in small-town Georgia for a long time—so long that a soft country accent sounded more familiar than Angie’s New York City Yankee twang. “The hospital scheduled a CPR and Advanced Life Support training for Saturday morning, and I hafta attend.”
Susannah chewed her lip. She’d been thrilled when Angie found a position at Henry County Hospital. She was a little less thrilled now. As for the camp-out, after an unpleasant incident over the summer, her appreciation for the outdoor life had waned. F
earing an Italian-American intervention featuring her mother’s Rosary Society, she had kept the details of the unpleasantness from her family in New York, and she wasn’t going to mention them to Angie now.
Angie squinted at her, a trait Susannah knew meant she was ready to argue. “Bitsy is taking Jamal. Maybe you can share a tent. Keith will be there too. You have nothing to worry about.”
“I’m not worried. I—” Susannah stopped. Caden appeared in the hallway, and Angie rushed to him; she planted a loud kiss on the top of his head and led him back down the hall to the break area. Susannah noted a fleeting expression of doubt sweep across Angie’s features and then disappear. It was her turn to reassure her sister. “He’s going to be fine.”
Angie nodded at Susannah and pulled a lipstick from her purse. She looked around. Susannah knew Angie was searching for a mirror. Foundation, eyeliner, and blush were what Angie called her first line of defense. Mascara, eye shadow, and a custom lipstick color, which Angie called Marvelous Magenta, finished the tableau. Susannah would have looked like a clown with that much makeup on, but set off by Angie’s olive skin and black hair, it looked amazing. “Don’t forget, the Fall Festival is tonight at school.” She dropped the lipstick into her bag and pointed down the hall to the break area. “I already stocked the fridge so yas can have a hot meal before ya go. I know me leaving early for my shift is throwing a monkey wrench into your schedule, but once I’m done with training, I won’t need you to watch him as much.” Like most in her family, Angie was a lover of Italian food. But Angie was also a tireless cook, using all the family recipes and updating and inventing her own gourmet takes on them. She laughed at Susannah’s simple way of eating and food sensitivities. “Go to work.”
Twenty minutes later, Susannah entered treatment room two where Gus Arnold, the assistant principal at Peach Grove Elementary School, sat. His blond hair and deep-set gray-blue eyes gave him a Ryan Gosling look, only blonder.
“Dr. Shine.” He smiled at her. “That last adjustment fixed my knee pain. I’ve felt better in the last month than I have in the last year. And I’ve gotten off all my pain medications.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Susannah held up her hand for a high five.
“Me too.” He laughed as he high-fived her. “But yesterday, I was walking around my yard and stepped in a hole, and I think I misaligned my knee. The pain is back. I need another adjustment.”
“I can arrange that.” Susannah faced Gus and positioned his leg for the adjustment, wrapping her hands around his knee while he lay on his back. A low, deep click signaled a successful adjustment.
Gus sat up, tentatively putting his weight on his leg. “I can’t believe the difference. I wish I had done this years ago.”
“That’s what they all say.”
Gus took a few steps, placing more and more weight on the joint. “Thank goodness, the pain is gone. You have no idea how much this helps me. Tonight’s the Fall Festival at school. I’ve been on my feet constantly the last few days.”
Susannah took a moment to ask Gus about what to expect at a Fall Festival, and he filled her in. His gracious manner and infectious smile put her at ease.
“I’ll see you there.” He did a herky-jerky step and laughed as he left the room.
Peach Grove was in autumn mode, and this year she would have the added enjoyment of accompanying Caden to the festival. As she watched Gus leave the treatment room, another thought came to her: in addition to the Fall Festival tonight and the camp-out this weekend, tomorrow morning another local institution was meeting. The Peach Grove Business Association would elect a new president, and her best friend, Bitsy Long, was running. Whatever the outcome, this was going to be an interesting week.
CHAPTER TWO
A Zombie in the Sand
Susannah entered her office and was startled to see Caden with his cheek pressed against the glass of Henry the Eighth’s fish tank. Henry swam his usual route as Caden watched, wide-eyed, his small body slumped sideways in a chair, one finger tracking the fish as he swished by. The glass on the tank fogged from Caden’s breath.
Susannah said, “You never told me why you don’t want to go to the Fall Festival.”
Caden blew on the tank and ran his finger through the condensation. “Some of the kids are mean to me. Dylan S. laughs at me. He says I talk funny.”
Susannah felt her stomach sink. His New York accent was not as pronounced as Angie’s, but it was clear he wasn’t from around here. She put her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t pay attention to Dylan S., he sounds like a real doofus.”
Caden sat up and smiled. “Yeah, he’s a doo-puss.”
“Not doo-puss, doofus. It means he’s dumb.”
“Oh. I think he’s a doo-puss too.”
Susannah shook her head, not sure if she had just made the matter worse. “Come on, let’s go have some fun.” She grabbed his backpack and loaded him into her Jeep.
Her last patient had been running late, and they were behind. Luckily, Peach Grove Elementary was only minutes from the office. When they arrived, a Peach Grove Police Department patrol car blocked the entrance to the parking lot. Officer Owen Chaffin, who Susannah had met over the weekend at Tina and Keith Cawthorn’s Halloween party, waved her toward the other cars parked behind the school.
Caden pressed his nose to the window. “Are we really allowed to park on the lawn?”
Susannah chuckled. The overflow parking was in the grassy field past the playground. In Brooklyn, where Caden came from, the only wide-open green spaces were parks surrounded by cement walkways and chain link fences. In fact, some of the parks in Brooklyn were just cement walkways and chain link fences. “Only tonight, kid. Too many cars to fit in the lot.”
The Jeep bumped over the rutted grass, and she squeezed into the last spot next to some cedar trees. She led Caden across the playground, toward the gymnasium, passing Bitsy’s SUV on the way. The air smelled of hay and freshly popped popcorn. Bales were stacked two and three high, with gap-toothed jack-o’-lanterns and scarecrows lounging on top. Strains of “Turkey in the Straw” filled the air, and children and adults lined up to play games along a midway. At the far end of the building were a dunking booth and a bouncy house.
She looked around for Bitsy, who would be accompanying Jamal, but didn’t see her. Caden found his classmates and queued up to try his hand at knocking down a pyramid of empty soda cans with a tennis ball. As he took his turn, a loud whoop caught Susannah’s attention, and she proceeded down the midway. When she saw the source of the whoop, she laughed out loud and called Caden over.
Bitsy stood in the dunking tank, water cascading off her body. She was dressed as a scarecrow, her straw hat drooping. Jamal stood in front of the booth, and Caden ran to his side.
“That’s Jamal’s auntie,” he giggled. “She looks funny. She’s got straw in her hair.”
Susannah watched as Bitsy’s colorful costume and lively banter kept the adults around the dunk tank. A few moms cheered delightedly when she splashed down. Each time a bull’s-eye pitched Bitsy off her perch, Caden and Jamal capered to and fro in front of the tank, like oversized puppies, soaking up almost as much moisture as she did. After an hour, Bitsy had raised $300 for the PTA and was as wrinkly as a box of raisins. She exited the booth with a lopsided smile and a wilted straw hat. She was immediately set upon by the boys, who, if they’d had a dry spot on them, immediately lost it. Susannah kept her distance as Bitsy rained on the pavement.
“That dunking tank is hungry work.” Bitsy hugged Jamal and winked at Caden. “What do you say we go get ourselves some kettle corn?”
The boys nodded enthusiastically.
“Can I, Aunt Suzie?” asked Caden.
“Sure, you stick with Ms. Bitsy while I get you some dry clothes out of the car.”
Susannah hurried away, crossing the playground quickly. The streetlight from the parking lot shone an orange haze across the swing set and sandbox. Digging in her purse for her keys as she went, she
stopped. Had she heard a noise? She looked around, but all she saw was a teacher cleaning up her game station in the parking lot. Glancing at the row of cedar trees, she reached her Jeep and jumped in. As she pulled the door shut, “Girl on Fire,” the ringtone she had assigned to Bitsy, sounded from her purse.
“Kettle corn’s almost all gone,” Bitsy crowed. “What’s taking you so long?”
Susannah wedged the phone between her shoulder and ear as she twisted to reach the back seat. “I’m coming. Save me some,” she replied, grabbing the gym bag jammed with emergency supplies.
“You snooze, you lose,” Bitsy replied. The call ended and Susannah tossed the phone into her bag, shaking her head with a smile. As she pulled out a pair of blue jeans and a T-shirt from the gym bag, she had the feeling that she was being watched and again gazed down the row of cedar trees. Not a soul graced either the paved lot or the grassy overflow parking.
Suddenly a scream split the quiet. Her heart began hammering so strongly, she could hear her pulse in her ears. She shouldered her bag and grabbed her keys. The slam of the door fell flat in the still night air. Hustling across the parking lot, she passed the sandbox and swings. A loud groan sent the hair on her arms standing straight up. She turned and saw someone dressed as a zombie coming from the trees. Trembling, she forced a smile. Probably some middle schooler trying to scare me.
“Dr. Shine.”
The zombie had called her name. She stopped, watching the costumed teen shamble toward her, one leg dragging behind in a classic zombie cadence. Suddenly the zombie tripped and fell face down into the sandbox. Susannah clutched her keys, her hand shaking. Again the zombie called her name and she drew closer, horrified to see a dark substance seep into the sand beneath its hips.
That’s blood!
She rushed over. “Ack!” she blurted. This was not a teen. It was a man, face down, sprawled with one arm pinned underneath his body. She turned him over and gasped.
“Gus!”
Blood seeped from a hole in his chest.