by Kate Young
BATTER DIPPED MURDER
The wedding party seemed to be lining up for pictures, and the guests were starting to corral near the tent. When I got inside, my crew was nowhere to be seen. I could see Paul through the window on the opposite side of the tent. I went in search of my staff and nodded approvingly when I walked around the first few tables with beautifully lit candles positioned around the pink Stargazer centerpiece. From here the wedding cake appeared to be holding up nicely. I moved closer.
My smile faltered and I squeaked in surprise.
My hand went to my parted lips.
On the floor in front of the wedding cake table lay Lucy, covered in what could only be funnel cake batter . . .
Books by Kate Young
SOUTHERN SASS AND KILLER CRAVINGS
SOUTHERN SASS AND A CRISPY CORPSE
SOUTHERN SASS AND A BATTERED BRIDE
Published by Kensington Publishing Corp.
Southern Sass and a Battered Bride
KATE YOUNG
www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
BATTER DIPPED MURDER
Also by
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
RECIPES
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2021 by Kate Young
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
The K logo is a trademark of Kensington Publishing Corp.
ISBN: 978-1-4967-2149-5
ISBN-13: 978-1-4967-2150-1 (ebook)
ISBN-10: 1-4967-2150-0 (ebook)
For Nita and Rita, who love to laugh as much as I do
CHAPTER 1
The temperature hovered around a near-perfect eighty degrees as the sun began to set over the ocean, and I watched the bride walk down the aisle. My childhood sweetheart, Deputy Alex Myers, stood at the front under a beautiful arch of flowing white fabric, and from my vantage point in the reception tent, he looked dashing. He wore linen pants rolled up at the ankles and a white button-down shirt rolled up at the sleeves. Soft music and murmurs of the wedding rehearsal mingled with the light breeze. The wide expanse of the Atlantic Ocean lapping the shore was their backdrop. It viewed like a scene out of a Hallmark movie.
It appears perceivably untamable Alex Myers can be tamed.
The groom lifted his bride in the air and spun her around, their laughter traveled, and my chest constricted. With a deep breath of salty air in my lungs, I turned away.
“You okay?” My best friend and coworker, Betsy, continued to smooth out and adjust the tablecloths.
“Yep. Perfectly fine.” I glanced around the large tent, with lovely cream silk drapings from the tent peaks, lit with elegant string lights and strategically placed chandeliers over the twenty-five round tables covered with champagne-colored tablecloths. Faux bamboo chairs painted gold reflected in the light. The tables being set up around the whitewash dance floor must have cost them a fortune. Lucy must have a trust fund or a nest egg she’s been saving for her big day, because Alex surely didn’t have that kind of money. Oh well, not my business. I was paid to do a job, and I’d do it and do it well.
“You’re not perfectly fine and you know it.” Betsy tightened the tie over her fire-red mane. “And how could you be? Y’all have history.”
With a sigh, I moved one of the centerpieces adorned with dripping candles closer to the center of the table. Betsy was right, we had significant history. Her cousin, Alex, had been my first love and on-again, off-again boyfriend since high school, except for the two-year period when I’d been married to the jerk of the century. Alex and I sort of picked up where we left off shortly after I moved back home. Enter Lucy.
“I want Alex to be happy, I really do. I just hate he chose her.” That woman and I started out on the wrong foot from day one. She being the reason he and I were no longer together. Or at least they shared a pivotal moment in our relationship’s downward spiral. I’ll never forget the onslaught of emotions I felt when my brother told me he’d spied Alex at the Beach Bum Bar getting cozy with a tourist. And though Alex vehemently denied Sam’s account and any wrongdoing, he later went on to secure said tourist a receptionist job with Peach Cove Sheriff’s Department, and I’d later found out that the two had been spending a lot of time together. Innocent or not, he’d lied to me, and we’d never recovered after that. And though I made attempts to remain civil when they became a couple, Lucy belittled me at every turn. The woman was a total nightmare. Honestly, for catering her wedding, I deserved a peace prize.
“I hear ya. My cousin is an idiot. And his bridezilla is even worse.” She let out a long, noisy breath full of frustration, and gazed out of the tent, where the rehearsal was in full swing. The small group appeared to be going through the ceremony all over again. “I just always thought the two of you would get married and we’d be family for real.” Betsy gave me a sad smile, and I returned it before reaching out and taking her hand.
I gave her fingers a squeeze. “We are a real family. And, Bets, he’s your relative. Don’t let our friendship and your hatred for the bridezilla cause more problems. I’m good. See?” I beamed. Or tried to. I really was okay. Still, it was hard to see Alex moving on in the fashion he had before I did. Not that I was ready to say I do to anyone. It simply stirred up all sorts of emotions.
“Uh-huh. You look like you’re good.” Betsy put her hands on her hips. “And I know you aren’t inferring I’m the one causing the rift in the Myers family.”
I pursed my lips.
“What are you sayin’? It’s my fault?”
I gave my head a shake. “I’m saying that what happened at the bridal shower can’t happen again. He’s marrying her now.” Seeing her on the verge of a hissy fit brought back th
e encounter and caused my shoulders to knot up. I took my part of the blame. It had been a mistake for me to attend the shower. Lucy thought I’d shown up to monopolize the family, which wasn’t the case. She’d invited me, a gesture that had shocked me to my core, and initially, I’d planned to politely decline. Then Betsy pleaded for me to go and stupidly, I had. Attempting to be the bigger person had backfired. After a plethora of hateful scowls, Betsy and I left early. Lucy had followed us outside the church and the onslaught of snarky insults ensued. It was almost as if she were looking to spar, and I made the perfect punching bag. When Betsy rushed to my defense, Lucy turned on her. It went south from there. Alex had been livid.
“Don’t tell me you feel guilty?”
“We could’ve walked away and should’ve.”
“Whatever. I don’t feel the least bit guilty. She totally started it!” Betsy huffed and puffed for a few seconds, glancing out the tent as cheers echoed from the beach. “You know what?” She pointed in the direction of the rehearsal. “When it comes down to it, Alex is the root of the problem. No one likes Lucy. You think I’m the stumbling block in this whole family drama, ha! You should hear Aunt Vi rave on. She prattled on to Aunt Regina about her son ruining the only chance at happiness when he lost you. And she called him a fool for not seeing the rattlesnake he’d snuggled up to.” Knowing Betsy’s aunt Vi my entire life, and living with her for a short period of time, I could only imagine.
“Let’s calm down and finish up here.” I attempted to get us back on track.
“I’m calm.” Betsy bared her teeth in a failed attempt to grin. Her red perspiring face made me worry she’d give herself an aneurism with her blood pressure spike.
“Marygene.”
Betsy and I turned to see Paul Fowler making his way through the tent with another man I didn’t recognize. Paul and I had been dating for a couple of months. He’d waltzed—or more like splashed—into my life at a time I needed it most. In fact, it had been during the same weekend Alex announced his engagement to Lucy. I’d skipped our usual Sunday lunch and decided to drown my sorrows in natural vitamin D and salty water. I was soaking up some rays on a float in the calm surf, trying to float my troubles away, when a man on a paddleboard wiped out and took us both under. I’d broken the surface, sputtering, and so did he. Red-faced and mortified, he introduced himself. Paul and I spent the rest of that day together and then several days following. I’d needed a distraction and like magic, he’d appeared. The man was game for anything I wanted to do, and we discovered we had the exact same taste in movies. He was everything Alex wasn’t: gentle, well-read, and had opinions about politics. It was refreshing.
I smiled at Paul as he spoke. “This is Christopher Davis, the new manager of our office.”
I moved through the space and extended my hand. “Nice to meet you. I worked with your predecessor, Adam, on several events, and they were each a great success.”
The older round man smiled and released my hand to wipe the perspiration from his brow. “I’m pleased to hear it. I’m from Sunshine’s Savannah branch. I wanted to make the introduction personally with all our partners. We look forward to many years of successful events together.”
“As do my sister and I.” I nodded with a smile. The Sunshine Murder Mystery Company had brought in more business for the Peach Diner’s catering operation than we could have hoped for, and now had us on the list of partners. Jena Lynn and I were extremely pleased at the expansion of our little family business. My enterprising Nanny had used the talents and money she managed to scrimp and save to open the Peach Diner when her husband lost his fortune in moonshine and gambling. The women of the Brown family were foodies to our core.
“Glad to hear it.” Christopher’s phone rang and he excused himself to answer it.
Once his boss was out of sight, Paul leaned down and gave me a kiss on the cheek. His cologne smelled stronger than usual, and his hair looked slightly damp, making me wonder if he’d recently showered. Odd for this time of day.
I pushed the thought from my mind. “What happened to Adam?”
Paul ran his long fingers through his thinning sandy-blond hair. “He decided he needed a change, I guess. He was MIA for a couple of days and then Mr. Davis showed up. No one at Sunshine knows anything other than that.”
“Well, that’s weird.” Betsy took up residence beside me.
“Oh, hello, Betsy. I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s been a topsy-turvy day.” Paul and Betsy hadn’t quite become friends yet, but they both were trying, and I appreciated it.
There wasn’t a future for us if Paul couldn’t get along with my nearest and dearest. If I’d learned anything from my past, it was I would never allow a man to control my life or have a say in who I kept company with ever again. Not that Paul and I were anywhere near contemplating a future at this point, but I wanted no confusion on the subject. Early stages of a relationship were a fragile thing. Some days, I could see myself making a life with him, and others I sensed a bit of unrest within him, or maybe it was me I sensed it in, but it gave me pause. I wasn’t certain. However, I cared about him and would just take things one day at a time.
Betsy’s smile appeared more as a grimace. She’d had a little thing for Adam, and they’d planned to go out. “He just left without a word? That’s doesn’t make a lick of sense.”
Paul shrugged his thin shoulders. Apparently he wasn’t concerned with where Adam’s sudden departure left the company. “Well, I’ll leave you ladies to finish up. I’ve got two more stops to make with Mr. Davis before we end for the day. See you later tonight, Marygene?”
Tonight I needed to be alone, to ponder choices and deal with closure.
I gave my head a shake and Paul’s mouth thinned into a flat line. My past had left me with issues I couldn’t ignore. Healing and self-care would always need to be a priority and I’d adjusted to that fact. I’d also learned I didn’t need to apologize for it or feel guilty. It was okay to say no. “After the reception tomorrow, we can go out for a bite to eat.” I patted his arm. “Okay?”
He nodded but didn’t look happy about it. “See you tomorrow then. Call me if you get a chance or change your mind.” The way he looked at me with some sense of urgency gave me the impression he had something on his mind he was eager to discuss.
Weddings had that effect on some people. For me, I was content with the way things were and didn’t feel ready to move to the next stage of the relationship. Maybe my intuition would be wrong. I sighed as he turned to leave.
Betsy waited until he left the tent to start her rant. “That just makes no sense. Adam and I had a real connection. We had a date for next Saturday. He wouldn’t leave without telling me!”
“Maybe he had a family emergency. He might call you.” I turned my attention back to the tables.
“Yeah, I guess. Sunshine won’t be the same now. We’ll have to see a lot more of the scarecrow.”
“Scarecrow?”
She threw her arm in the direction Paul had left. “He’s the spitting image of the scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz.”
“No, he isn’t.” I shook my head at her silliness.
“He is! Just picture him standing out in a field. Here, I’ll help.” She threw her arms out and made a painful-looking face. “ ‘If I only had a brain . . .’ ”
“Bets”—I covered a snicker with a cough—“you said you’d try.”
Betsy scrunched up her face. “I lied.”
“Betsy!”
“Oh, for the love of Pete”—Betsy rolled her eyes—“you can’t actually be into that guy. He’s not your type.” She didn’t wait for me to respond. “He’s too tall and skinny. Plus, he’s a Yankee. Topsy-turvy? Who do you know that says topsy-turvy?”
I pursed my lips for a second and scowled at her. “Don’t give me that Yankee nonsense. Javier is a Yankee and you had the hots for him.”
“Javier is different. Sadly, he and I weren’t meant to be. I need a man with a sense of humor.” I laugh
ed, thinking back to Betsy and Javier’s date, where she’d attempted to charm him with her fluent pig Latin.
She chortled when I reminded her.
“Yes, I’ll freely admit Paul is a different type than I normally date, but I think that’s what makes him appealing. Besides, it isn’t serious. We’re just getting to know each other and seeing where it goes.” I’d made my mind up to go slow and be sure of what I was getting into before leaping. The issues I had that resulted from the abuse I’d incurred in my horrendous marriage a couple of years ago taught me to be cautious when it came to committing my life to another. It took me a long time to gain the strength to walk away from Peter Hutchinson. And even longer to open up to anyone about it. Today, I’m stronger thanks to a great therapy group, my amazing friends, and family. I still had bad days when ugly issues surfaced, but I’d learned in therapy I could box them all up and put them away—via my coping mechanisms—and I could repeat the procedure as needed. One day at a time. It’s how I lived. And I was proud of my progress.
“Fine. Whatever. I’ll get this to the work area.” Betsy went to take the deep fryer to the small tent adjacent to the large reception tent. The small workspace afforded us enough square footage to position two refrigerators, three worktables arranged in an L-shape, and storage cabinets. Now, thanks to Alex’s insistence we serve funnel cakes, his favorite fair food, we also had two deep fryers. Jena Lynn and I did our best to try and talk him out of it. It certainly didn’t go with the menu Lucy decided on and even she protested, but in the end, he’d won. I guess he needed to win something, since she monopolized everything else. Thankfully, my brother and diner grill-cook, Sam, would be manning the fryer.
